4. afghanistan: shir berenj [and turning twenty]

Time never ceases to amaze me. Sometimes fleeting, sometimes unending, never enough, and so many names. Seconds, minutes, hours. Days, weeks, months. Years. Decades. Centuries. Millennium. Clocks, wristwatches, pocket watches, timers. Calendars, planners, schedules. Deadlines.

Wibbly-wobbly, really.

It's been, what, two weeks since my last post? A while, comparatively speaking. A lot can happen in two weeks. Attending a concert [Mat Kearney], writing a few papers [political theory and Spanish], reading a few books [class assignments], finishing another season of television [Torchwood], a trip out of town to attend another concert [Fleet Foxes in DC], starting a new job [tutoring], volunteering [soup kitchen], screaming with joy when a favorite screenwriter gets nominated for an Emmy [Steve Moffat for Sherlock, obviously], turning twenty.

Twenty years old. It's a strange feeling. I mean, I started school early so I'm the last among friends and peers to turn twenty. Many of them are already twenty-one, if not much older as is [taking a course with grad students makes one feel rather little, particularly when one is invited to go out for drinks with course professor and said students]. But still. One-fifth of a century. Two decades. Twenty years. 1,040 weeks. 7,280 days. 175,316 hours.10,518,975 minutes. 10,483,200 minutes. 631,138,519 seconds.

A lot can happen in twenty years.

But this isn't the time to reminisce about it.

I am, though, fortunate. Extremely so. For knowing the people that I've met, having the friends that I do, and a family that is always there. I sometimes forget it, but I'm always reminded. Particularly when I'm confronted with three different birthday cakes in the span of two days, an all-expenses paid dinner [parents are indispensable when you're in college], some meaningful gifts, and a load of well-wishes.

Cake from mother? Check. Cake from friends? Check. Life-size cardboard cut-out of the Tenth Doctor? Check.

You know, I'm pretty damn happy.

Birthday weekend started out like all great weekends should: a phenomenal dinner cooked by Mr. Sparta [I still dream about those mascarpone-stuffed dates...] and spectacular birthday carrot cake by Mrs. Sparta [orange-zested cream cheese frosting is such a revelation!]. I spent the beginning of the weekend in DC with Chelsea's family, Matt, Rudhdi, and Liz for a Fleet Foxes concert, and Chelsea's family graciously offered to prepare a birthday meal beforehand. The dinner was absolutely amazing, the concert was incredible, and there was tons of hilarious conversation on top of it all.

What did I say before about being blessed to have the friends that I do?

Came home Saturday afternoon, during which Farnoosh refused to let me open the fridge, as she and Tommy spent Friday afternoon baking a birthday cake for me. So I was forced to keep to the couch, having all fridge-items brought to me by Noosh, until going out for a delicious Thai dinner with Zack and Jerm in tow. Once we got home, Tommy came over and I finally got to see the dessert: an absolutely gorgeous chai cake with honey-ginger cream cheese frosting. It was beautifully constructed and tasted phenomenal in its complexity and similarity to a chai tea latte. And thus day two of the birthday weekend ended, yet again, in tummies full of sugar.

As for today, the 'rents drove in for the afternoon [as they always do] to take us out for a lunch of kebabs [as they always do]. I love the familiarity, especially since it means that mom has prepared a rich, dark chocolate torte to celebrate [as she always does]. They stayed for a while, we caught up since I hadn't seen them in over a month, enjoyed some of the cake from yesterday, and then cut into another one. And now, lying on the couch with a knit blanket, best friend by my side, flicking through channels on the new television [present courtesy of my father], and plates of cakes just eaten skewed across the coffee table, I can safely say that I am in a good place.

Twenty years old, and in a good place. A surreal feeling, but one that I think I will enjoy getting used to.


As for this dessert [because God knows that after three cakes I really just need another pound of sugar to throw me into a coma], I cooked it up earlier today before my parents arrived, and after a breakfast of leftover chai cake with milk. In the style of Middle Eastern puddings, which I love dearly, shir berenj is a Persian rice pudding. This one I've made in honor of Afghanistan, with a quite a bit of help from Noosh as well.

Shir Berenj
Adapted from Turmeric and Saffron, alongside some of Noosh's expertise.

You'll need:

• 1 cup basmati rice, rinsed and soaked in 2 cups water
• 1 cup water
• 5 cups milk [whole milk preferred, though 2% will do as well]
• cinnamon, to garnish
• honey, if desired
• fruit preserves, if desired

Rinse and soak the rice in cool water for at least two hours (preferably overnight). Then, rinse water and pour the rice into a deep, nonstick pot. Add the water and heat over medium flame until the water comes to a boil. Reduce heat to a gentle simmer, and stir occasionally until the rice absorbs all of the water, 10-15 minutes. Slowly pour in the milk and continue stirring over low flame until the rice has soaked up the milk, 30-40 minutes. Be sure to stir occasionally as to prevent the milk from burning.

Once pudding has cooked [the rice will be soft, but shouldn't break apart], remove the pan from the heat and let the pudding cool for 10-15 minutes. Pour the pudding into serving dishes and flatten the tops using a spoon. Sprinkle cinnamon over top of the pudding. Serve immediately with honey or fruit preserves to sweeten, or cover the tops with clingwrap and refrigerate until serving.

It's an easy dessert, really. Cooks for a while over stovetop, similar to seviyan, and the end result is a thick and creamy custard. Milk-based puddings are, for the most part, all made in this way: slow-cooked over a low flame for the milk to thicken to sweet, melt-in-your-mouth goodness. In other words, delicious.


You know, turning twenty has made me think about how quickly time goes by, and how much can happen in just a few years [if not two weeks]. But perhaps it's time to stop thinking about time. Time means that these cakes won't last forever. And that means that I'll have to stuff my face now and savor each moment.

salted caramel bread pudding

In my head I pictured it as a nice daytrip to the city, catching up with an old friend, gracefully strolling through art museums, admiring the gorgeous weather and scenery, eating some quality meals over quality conversations, and a pleasant drive home.



...Then again, when does anything ever go as planned?

Yesterday Noosh and I took a roadtrip to DC to see Kevin, whom I haven't seen since his visit last September [if you will recall the bread pudding and apple pie that were both epically conquered within 24 hours.] Dropped the car off on the outskirts of the city, took the metro in, and made it just in time for the three of us to grab some lunch at Capital Brewery. And by 'just in time' I mean about an hour and a half after the fact, since Kevin's phone lied misinformed us about the hours of operation of a few locations.

But it was a delicious lunch just the same. Even if they did leave the sauerkraut off of my Reuben [to which I remember Kevin and Noosh asking me if it was really a pity at all that they forewent the fermented cabbage, but I happen to enjoy sauerkraut very well, thank you very much]. Would recommend for sure, if you're ever in the area.

After lunch we strolled through the city for a bit, catching up on life [I distinctly remember telling Kevin beforehand that I'll be leaving the country, but he seemed to disagree], and mid-afternoon met up with Cory and Daniel [who had driven up for the day, after sleeping in until almost 11], at the National Gallery for the Chester Dale: Impressionism to Modernism, Nam June Paik, and Canaletto and his Rivals on Venice exhibitions. [The Venice exhibit was truly breathtaking, but all three were phenomenal.]

I should also mention that I had been carrying a 16-oz baguette in my purse for the grand majority of the day, including our museum visit. Also an unopened box of light brown sugar, but that was less of an issue since it was wrapped in a plastic bag. But I was pretty positive that museum security was going to kindly request that I discard the baguette, since, I mean who in their right mind carries an unopened, enormous loaf of French bread in their bag? 

Well, I got in just fine. So that's a tip for any of you who want to visit a museum and are worried about them taking your bread away from you: it's totally chill. Does make me wonder, though, what other oddities they must see on a regular basis...

Anyway, spent a few hours there before heading back to Kevin's apartment to make dinner. Because it seems as though whenever Kevin and I are in the same vicinity, cooking a meal is inevitable. Which I am more than happy about.

Canaletto, Santa Maria della Salute and the Entrance to the Grand Canal, looking East
1744 
[not my image]

A delicious dinner of bak choy, kalbi with radishes, Cantonese tomatoes and eggs, sauteed drumsticks, and chicken gizzards. Everyone pitched in, either prepping, cooking, dish-washing, clearing the table, what-have-you, so it was a very lovely little dinner party.

Can I just say, though, that only for you, Kev, would I try a chicken gizzard. And I must say, the taste was just fine. The texture I abhorred, with a burning passion. But at least that's something else to cross of my list, eh? [Even if I plan on never letting one touch my plate again.]

the spread, in terrible lighting

Kev put me in charge of dessert, as per usual, and so I went with another bread pudding [seems to be a tradition to bake bread pudding alongside our meals? sure]: salted caramel bread pudding, to be precise. Really, all I was thinking was thank the lord I can take this poor, abused loaf of bread out of my purse.

Salted Caramel Bread Pudding
Adapted from The Comfort of Cooking

You'll need:

• 1 (16-oz) loaf unsliced French bread
• 2 cups milk
• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1 cup raisins
• 1/2 cup salted caramel sauce [homemade or store-bought]

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and line a baking sheet with aluminum foil. Using a serrated knife, slice bread into 1-inch cubes. Spread bread evenly across baking sheet and bake for 12 minutes.

In a large bowl, combine milk, brown sugar, vanilla, eggs, and raisins. Toss toasted bread in the milk mixture until well mixed. Cover bowl and chill for at least 45 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Gently pour soaked bread into a greased casserole dish, cover the top with aluminum foil, and bake for 20 minutes. Uncover  and bake for an additional 10 minutes, until pudding is set. 

Pour caramel sauce into a bowl and heat for 30 seconds, or until warm. Serve with bread pudding.

The pudding is delicious. I wish I had had some more of my things over to photograph with, but Kev's gorgeous D7000 was fun enough to play with. After we thoroughly demolished the entirety of the bread pudding and salted caramel sauce, Noosh very kindly did the dishes as Cory and I played Fruit Ninja, and then the four of us [sans Kev] decided to go out for a midnight crepe run [because we needed more food after that feast, obviously] at Crepeaway. Also definitely recommend, if you're in the area [and they stay open until 4 am, I believe.]

Enjoyed some crepes, chatted some more, realized it was nearing 12:30 and we should probably head back to the metro station if we intended to leave DC that night morning, said our goodbyes, hopped on the metro, and drove home. Definitely one of the most painful late-night drives of my life, and I can hardly remember what happened between me parking the car and waking up at 1 pm this morning.

Save that it was one of the best daytrips that I can remember.

Edit: The very sweet hostess of Sweet as Sugar Cookies, Lisa, has invited me to participate in her Sweets for a Saturday with this recipe post. Thanks so much, Lisa! I'm truly honored. :)

the good, the bad, and the bread pudding

Let me break it down for you. I don't hide it when I don't like a food. I won't force myself to eat anything I don't think is tasty. And I will always be honest with you when it comes to your cooking.
And mine.

Kevin arrived this evening. And for a while I had a grand feast planned out for tonight's dinner. Eventually, dinner expanded to not only include Farnoosh, Kevin, and I, but also Matt and Daniel. Still, I made adjustments ahead of time and was very excited about this meal.

Let me just tell you. Not so delicious. Not terrible, but definitely not tasty.
I've also come to learn that quinoa...is pretty awful. Which is a shame, because it's supposed to be so good for you, and I was super duper excited about cooking it [not to mention it's also low-GI, so it would have fit perfectly with my pre-diabetes]. Maybe I just used a bad recipe [although it got quite a few 5-star ratings, so I was severely disappointed], but that stuff tastes like dining hall oatmeal. Mixed with vinegar and some chopped up veggies. Yuck.

Also, I went to the Farmer's Market this morning to pick up some tomatoes [for an easy tomato and onion salad, which was actually quite good], Italian bread, and chicken [for Moroccan chicken that I was planning on making as the entree]. Got there, picked up my tomatoes and bread, ate some delicious treats for breakfast, and discovered that chicken breasts are $14 a pound.

Now, I'll be the first to accept that quality comes at a price, and I would much rather spend $14 a pound on grass-fed, happy chicken meat than on terrible supermarket, corn-fed, factory farmed chicken meat, but let's be real. I'm a second year college student with almost no money [haven't gotten paid yet!]. Sad life. So instead I stopped by the international market on the way home, which I had never been to before [and loved, which is ironic because it is a carbon copy of every Pak-Indian market my parents have dragged me to over the years, but I mean if they're going to give me free samples of kaland...]. There I bought some excellent whole-wheat pita and really awful hummus. But I didn't know the hummus was as awful as it was until I cruelly fed it to everyone at dinner. Ugh. Though, thank goodness for leftovers, because we just heated up some of my pesto from yesterday and had a bit of that instead.

So all in all, an uber fail. BUT, I still had dessert on my side.

photo taken by Kevin and his amazing skills/lens. muy jealous.

Cinnamon raisin bread pudding, to be exact. Quite delicious. Ate it hot out of the oven with some vanilla ice cream on top, and it was pure bliss.

Cinnamon Raisin Bread Pudding

For the bread pudding, you'll need:

• 5 cups stale bread, cut into cubes [Italian works best, but any sort of brioche or combination of white and whole wheat is great as well]
• 2 cups warm milk
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 tbsp cinnamon
• 1 tsp nutmeg
• 2 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 1 cup raisins
• 1/2 cup chopped nuts [walnuts are ideal]

For the hard brandy sauce, you'll need:

• 2 cups powdered sugar
• 1/2 cup [1 stick] butter, softened
• 1 tbsp hot water
• 2 tbsp brandy, or 2 tsp brandy extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease a 2-quart casserole dish. Spread bread cubes evenly over the dish. Pour warm milk over the bread and let sit while preparing the rest. In a bowl, combine sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, eggs, and vanilla. Pour mixture over the soaked bread. Toss to coat all bread with mixture. Sprinkle raisins and nuts over the bread pudding. Bake for 50-60 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare the brandy sauce. Beat all ingredients together until it forms a smooth paste. Refrigerate until bread pudding is done. Pour sauce immediately over the hot pudding. Eat while warm. Serve with vanilla ice cream, if desired.

half-eaten because it took me until then to realize I hadn't snapped a photo

It was so good. Though, I once again failed to remember that my oven overbakes everything just slightly, so it was a lot like eating cinnamon croutons with vanilla ice cream. But still, delicious.

I like to think it made up slightly for the torturous meal.

In other news, thank goodness I'm fasting tomorrow, because all this starch these past two days are taking a huge toll on my tummy. Ugh.

Kind of funny how up until Friday I had been giving up all refined and artificial sugar, and made it a good 23 days [for any of you not in the know, I had made a vow to give up all refined and artificial sugars for 30 days]. I pretty much just reversed any and all of my progress within the past 48 hours.

But I'd say it was pretty worth it.