Categories
food Iran

Food in Iran

We had fairly high expectations of Iranian food going into the trip, and to some extent our expectations were met–most things we had were quite delicious. However, sadly, food for tourists in Iran suffers from two serious problems.

The first is the same issue that I spoke of in my Syrian food entry (4.27)–the food that is generally served in restaurants is only a small subset of the cuisine as a whole, and to try other dishes essentially requires an invitation to a home-cooked meal. Just as in Syria or Turkey, restaurant food is largely kebabs, in various forms. This problem is more severe in Iran because the restaurants do not have the mezze/salad culture of Syria or Turkey, but alleviated by the fact that even fairly basic Iranian kebabis often will serve, in addition to kebab, dizi or a stew (see below for both). At home, we are told, people eat less kebabs, and more stews and rice dishes (polo).

This distinction between home food and restaurant food is common throughout the Middle East, and my two best guesses so far is that it exists either because of gender roles or history. The first theory is that there is a difference between food traditionally cooked by men and food traditionally cooked by women, with only the former being served in restaurants, where only men work. Just as men barbecue in America, grilling kebabs seems to be a man’s job, and I do not recall seeing one woman working as a waitress or a cook in a proper restaurant in the Middle East. [On the other hand, there’s nothing about being male that would prevent you from learning to cook other dishes and serving them in restaurants.] It’s also possible that kebabs represent more masculine food (cooked around a campfire in ancestral days?), and that the customers at restaurants were, primarily, men (since women were more likely to be at home for meals).

The historical theory, I would pose, is that kebabs (due to their meatiness) somehow represented higher class food, or at least food that would be served in a premium (restaurant) setting. Grilled meat is something of a status food in other countries as well (e.g., steakhouses), and the idea of going out to eat may have been equated with eating special food that you couldn’t eat at home every day. Of course, as average wealth has gone up, this is to a certain extent no longer true (many people now can afford to eat meat regularly at home, even if they do not choose to), but this “ranking” of food may persist in what restaurants serve.

Anyway, on to the food.

Let’s start with the kebabs. The most common by far is a minced/pressed meat kebab called kubideh (what a Turk would call köfte). It is fairly highly seasoned in Iran, and delicious almost anywhere (although very fatty in lower class joints). It is the single most common food, here served with grilled tomatoes and onions.

Most simply, kebab can be eaten with bread, which is provided for free in Iranian restaurants, but most people order it with rice, which costs some money. The rice in Iran is long grain, similar to Indian rice, and is often served with some saffron-tinted rice and a few barberries on top. The rice is almost always cooked perfectly, light and delicious, especially with the often provided pat of butter. Here, chicken kebab with rice.

Often called “the national dish,” dizi or abgusht is one of the most homey, basic foods of Iran, of northwestern/Azeri-Turkish origin we read once, and is served in restaurants as well as basic teahouses.

Dizi has quite a complicated eating process. First you drink the soup, which is a meaty tomato broth, usually by pouring it into a separate metal bowl and adding a whole lot of torn-up bread. Here, we did it in the dizi pot.

Once you have consumed all of the liquid, you mash up the solid ingredients (meat, potatoes, vegetables) with the provided masher, add some onions, mint or whatever else is provided for additional seasoning and spoon it up, perhaps with bread.

As I mentioned, many restaurants have at least one stew on hand, which is always served with rice. Two particular stews are by far the most common. The first is khoresht ghaimeh, which is a red stew made with split peas and meat. Here, pictured with yogurt, which is offered with all Iranian meals.

The second is khoresht ghormeh sabzi, which is (and tastes) green. It’s a matter of personal preference and mood, I think, which of these two stews one would prefer at a given time.

Many Iranians told us that their favorite Iranian dish is fesenjun, which is meat served in a thick green sauce of walnuts and pomegranate juice. The flavor is complex and slightly tangy, to me a bit reminiscent of Mexican mole, although not quite as dark and rich. Here, it was served with chicken, as is usual, although we also saw it with lamb. Fesenjun is delicious and fairly hard to come by in a restaurant, and so we ordered it whenever possible.

Tachin. It looks almost like a quiche in this picture, and that is because it is made with a lot of egg (we think just yolk). The substance of the “pie” is rice, crusted on top, and there is a large piece of chicken buried within (visible in the lower right). Oddly, it is served on yet more rice. I found the dish a bit too egg yolk-y, for my taste, but Derek loved it. In addition to appearing on tachin, crusty rice from the side of the pot is eaten as a snack in Iran, just as in parts of East Asia.

A common “appetizer” is kashk-e bademjun, a mixture of eggplant and whey. We used it as a sort of dip for bread.

One special food in Esfahan is beriani. Although it has the same name as Indian biryani it is totally unrelated, as you can see (cf. post of 5.12). A patty of seasoned meat hides within some bread. Not too exciting.

In order to avoid eating kebabs two meals a day, we found ourselves resorting to “fast food,” which in Iran generally means hamburgers and pizzas. Fast food restaurants, mostly one-off restaurants and not chains, and serving food fairly quickly but no more so than kebabis, are more common than any other kind of restaurant. The pizza in Iran is not so good (often packed with fairly bad pork-less meat products) but the hamburgers excellent (made with patties that are a combination of meat and soy). This food was from the Hamedan branch of a national chain called Atish, filled with very hip, middle-class Iranians.

I am not sure whether an Iranian would call firni breakfast food or dessert, but it was first introduced to me in Turkey (in baked form) as a dessert. Here served with sweet date sauce (without the sauce it was fairly bland).

The most common Iranian sweet, at least of those served on the street and not counting soft serve ice cream: faludeh. The light, thin short strips (made with wheat or rice, I believe, depending on where you get it), more similar to pasta than anything else, are frozen and gently flavored with rose water. Here, served with lemon sherbet on left.

The most common drink in Iran is tea, but we found these very interesting beverages on th
e street in many cities. I believe both are made with flowers, but know only the name of the orange one–khak-e shir. The most unique thing about these drinks, hopefully visible in the photo, is that there are countless “floaties” that slowly settle and then become suspended in the liquid again at a gentle shake. The floaties have a pleasant texture as you suck them through your straw. I was told that the drink is also supposed to have therapeutic qualities.

Categories
food photo Syria

Food in Syria

Syria doesn’t really have a cuisine that is unique to itself, but rather shares a cuisine with Lebanon (and certainly overlaps with other Mediterranean countries, such as Turkey and Egypt). As you may know, Lebanese food is generally considered the most sophisticated and tasty in the Middle East (why so many Middle Eastern restaurants are called Lebanese restaurants), and so one could say the same about Syrian food.

The most common foods for the budget traveler, cheap, quick and ubiquitous, are felafel, shawarma and mini-pizzas. You are probably familiar with at least falafel, which are deep-fried chick pea patties usually served in a sandwich. Felafel in Syria is generally made in the form of a little doughnut, which increases the crunchy surface area relative to a sphere or disk, the other common shapes. The felafels are crushed on the bread as the first step of the sandwich assembly. I’ll miss felafel in the months to come–they are not only cheap and tasty, but the combination of the savory, crunchy fried felafel with the cool refreshing salad can be a real pleasure.

Shawarma, which comes in chicken or lamb, is a vertical spit meat (similar to doner or gyro) that gets gradually cooked by a heat source and sliced off, usually into sandwiches. The chicken variety is usually cheaper than the lamb, and also tastier. We were told that 30 chickens are used to put together a full shawarma “pole.”

Lamb shawarma on the fire

Chicken shawarma, being sliced

Raw chicken shwarma

Mini-pizzas (I imagine they have an Arabic name although I do not know it) come in many varieties, including perhaps most exotically a salty thyme (?) one that is green (I believe the Arabic is zaatar). They are baked in great big ovens, and if not fresh hot are reheated for you.

Variety–zaatar on left

More conventional pies, hot out of the oven

Stepping one step closer to restaurant food, but also cheap, common and served just off of the street in smaller shops, are foul and fatta. Both are derived from some combination of chick peas, tahini, olive oil, beans and perhaps some meat, served with bread.

From a restaurant in the Aleppo souk

Finally, the most common restaurant food, or what I think would be considered core Syrian-Lebanese cuisine. As with food in Turkey, my belief is that the foods below actually do not make up the bulk of what a Syrian household eats on a daily basis; rather, there is a sort of separate repertoire of dishes that one would cook at home. This latter category of food is somewhat inaccessible to tourists, but we were able to sample it at some simpler restaurants where pre-prepared food is served from bins (as we had once in Turkey and not dissimilar from the manner of serving at basic Latin American restaurants in the U.S.). This food is also delicious, but harder to describe as a cuisine–an assortment of stews served with rice, in contrast to most restaurant food, which is eaten with bread. I imagine that the split in the cuisine has a historical/ethnic history. [Speaking of rice, there are also restaurants that serve what is called “bedouin” food, including the dish mensaf which is a biryani-like mixture of seasoned rice with meat. My guess would be that the rice cuisine is of eastern origin while the bread cuisine is more natively Mediterranean.]

Anyway, back to the restaurant. You start your meal (as in Turkey) with mezze, which are hot or cold appetizers that are shared by the table. Each cold mezze generally costs something around 50 SP (or USD 1), although the serving size and quality of course differ. The most common cold mezze are spreads with which you are likely familiar: hummus, moutabbal, babaganoush, and so forth. Hot mezze, which are somewhat more expensive, include pastries with meat inside, sausages, grilled eggplant, etc. Also eaten earlier in the meal are fresh salads, most commonly fattoush (our favorite!) and tabbouleh.

“Arabian salad” in front, similar to fattoush though with different dressing, moutabbal on rear right and beans on rear left

Our favorite babaganoush, in a restaurant in central Aleppo

Muhammara, made with walnuts and pomegranate juice

In Turkey, we found and heard that mezze often takes over the meal, but in Syria we saw that people generally do order main dishes, which means grill items–some form of kebab. Predictably, there are chicken kebabs and lamb kebabs, the latter coming in ground (meatball-like) and unground (chunks of meat) form. In some restaurants, we found the standard of seasoning and preparation to be quite high.

Chicken kebab (shish taouk), served with fries

Kebabs grilled on the street, nighttime Aleppo

Note the bread being used as a plate–bread is always free in Syria and often used as a plate or cover for served kebabs.

Sweets. Some restaurants do offer desserts, but I believe the local sweets are eaten more often as snacks than after-meal finishers. Syrian sweets, which include a form of baklava, are sold everywhere, and are somewhat expensive. We also purchased (from the factory featured in my 4.19 post) really great marzipan-ny cookies that were in the form of macaroons (the mini-sandwich, not the coconut, kind). A more basic local dessert called muhalabiya is a form of rice pudding, though not as delightful as the Indian variety.

A sweets store in Hama

Pistachios are a common feature of sweets

Beverages. The most common beverage in Syria, as with much of the Middle East, is tea. Like in Turkey, it is served highly sweetened in small cups. In addition to tea, Syrians also drink yerba mate, imported from Argentina (the history of this may be related to Syrian emigration to South America). Coffee of the Turkish variety is also available, as is the universal “nescafe.”

Tea being sold in a shop. The tea is Syria is almost always from Sri Lanka.

From a coffeeshop near the Umayyad Mosque, Damascus

Fresh juice is also available from specialized stands, served in gigantic glass mugs for about 50 SP, or USD 1. The juice guys also make a pretty good banana milk.

Blended fresh

One special drink we saw, and one that all foreigners seem to love, is lemonade with mint. One person we met said that it goes well with gin!

Categories
food India photo

South Indian Food

Traveling to India, one knows to expect good food. Indian cuisine, after all, is one of the most flavorful and richest in the world. Even with our relatively high hopes, however, the food in South India has far exceeded expectations.

In 2003, when we were traveling around the tourist circuit in northern India (Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, etc.), we found that we were too often faced with eating somewhat mediocre food along with other tourists. In bigger towns, such as Jaipur or Bombay, there was of course a wide variety of restaurants frequented by more affluent Indians, which served tremendously good food (including one restaurant in Bombay that we thought had some of the best cooked food in the world, and which we plan to revisit later on our trip). But too many meals were just so-so (no doubt much of this was also due to our inexperience and lack of know-how in finding good food). Not in South India. Outside of a couple mediocre meals in Cochin (eaten mostly with other tourists), almost every meal has been terrific. I think this is because the more basic eating establishments catering to locals in South India are generally cleaner and appear more welcoming to tourists, and because South Indian food is delicious in a more simple way that can be achieved by more restaurants. Since South Indian food is not as frequently offered on Indian menus, especially in areas without large Indian communities, I thought I would give a brief overview of some of the items most commonly found.

The most common restaurant meal in South India is the thali, which is available at lunchtime at pretty much any restaurant. In South India, thalis are usually served on banana leaves, either on a platter or directly on the table (you rinse the fresh leaf with water before servers come and plop portions of food on it). The starch of the thali is plain white rice (with surprisingly large grains in Kerala, though we were told that the fat grain rice comes from Andhra Pradesh), and you are also usually given a crispy thin wafer called an appallam as well. A thali generally costs about 25-35 rupees (or less than $1), and is refillable–servers come with shiny little metal buckets to give you more of whatever you want. I can’t name all of the various “side dishes” (reminiscent of Korean banchan), but there are generally at least three or four, as well as pickle and yoghurt to be used as dressings. The main sauce for the rice, called sambar (which must be the same word as “sambal” used in other cuisines), is poured directly on top. In nicer places you also get dessert, and in one place we were offered ghee (clarified butter) and a powder to use for the rice in place of sambar.


The first thali we ever had was at the mess hall at Ranakpur Jain Temple in Rajasthan (which by the way is amazingly beautiful, though we hear that Mt. Abu is yet more). Puris and simple curries were served in very small portions, and constantly refilled, with the cost around 10 rupees (~25 cents). At the time, due to our ignorance, we thought that this manner of serving was somehow guided by religion–not only does it ensure a minimum of waste but nobody walks away hungry, which seem to me laudable spiritual goals, where food is concerned. Of course we now know that there’s nothing holy or sacred about it, but it still appeals to me, for those reasons. An all-you-can-eat or buffet in the U.S. (or in Asia for that matter) is usually a setting for overindulgence and gluttony. The concept is generally extravagance (though of course the quality of the food at a buffet can be highly variable); the result, overeating. In parts of Asia, buffets are also often luxurious, and therefore exclusive. I imagine there are tons of waste, either on the plates of people whose eyes were larger than their appetites or food never taken. The thali, while satisfying the requirement that people should eat to their satisfaction, is the opposite–there is a minimum of waste, since serving portions are small though refillable, it is highly affordable and therefore available to many and the relatively more limited number of dishes makes it much harder to overeat (although it could also be said that people coming by to refill your plate of your favorite items could result in overeating, while at a buffet you at least have to get up to refill). Something else about the limited number of dishes–a typical buffet while communal (people gather food from the same table) seems to me individualistic, because the number of dishes leads to selection and an expression of individual preference and choice. Thalis, on the other hand, result in everyone eating (more or less of) exactly the same food, served from the same buckets by the same hands, and therefore is much more a shared experience.

Outside of thalis, the most common food eaten by locals and tourists in restaurants is in the “snack” category, and here South Indian cuisine shows its sense of fun as well as flavor. These snacks are often eaten for breakfast, although for dinner as well.

The one that is probably most familiar to you is the dosa. A crispy-fried crepe-like dish, it is folded or rolled and often filled with curried potatoes. This one was served with other sauces as well and a deep-fried savory dough called a vada (the one that looks like a spicy doughnut).


An idly is a little flying saucer shaped rice pillow, bland alone but good (well, okay) with curries. Pictured below, a lady preparing idlies and idlies dressed with sauces. This appears to be one of the most commonly items in South India and is sold and eaten everywhere.



A picture of (amazingly puffy) puris.


The dish below, made with rice, is called pongal, and has a consistency similar to risotto or polenta. Also delicious.


In the “tiffin set” breakfast seen below is a dosa, a scoop of pongal and several mini idlies, swimming in sauce.


At our hotel in Cochin we were served iddiyappam, noodle pillows similar to rice noodles (bun) served in Vietnam, one of my favorite foods.


Another important item in the starch category is of course the paratha, which is a somewhat greasy and chewy, but delicious pan-fried bread that has layers like a mille-feuille pastry. You may also know this as a roti, as served in roti canai in a Malaysian restaurant. Pictured below, a man slapping a paratha together (to create the paper thin sheet, which is then crumpled together), as well as others cooking on a griddle.


After the parathas are cooked, they are crushed to reveal their many folds and layers. Below, a paratha served with a Keralan curry.

We saw the paratha-based dish below for the first time in the Tamil area of Sri Lanka in 2005, and were wondering whether we would find something similar in Tamil Nadu. The seasoning isn’t the same and it’s not as good, but here it is. Essentially, it is a paratha chopped up and fried along with egg and onion, served in a messy pile. It reminded me of Mexican chilaquiles (and no doubt there are other similar dishes around the world that people put together with day old bread–I really love finding similar foods/food ideas in different countries).


One night we had this item, which was called adai avial. I believe it is made with beans, as it reminded me of a Korean bindaetteok.


Oothappam, in five different varieties. This was pretty similar to a western pancake.


There are other amusing starches that I do not have pictures of (including a flat rice pancake called appam, which is delicious), as well as some we haven’t had a chance yet to try.

All of this is eaten with hands, not utensils. As a general rule I think it’s good to eat as the locals do, but as a chopstick using rice-eater, I can’t get myself to use my hands to eat goopy curry-soaked rice. So I ask for a spoon (which is mildly embarrassing, especially when other tourists point out that I should be using my hands).

Additional, even quicker snacks, can be purchased at many roadside stands, including at bus stations. I cannot name each, but below a picture of a selection. The best, in my opinion, is the one on the far left, which is something like a falafel and often spicy. Also, a man selling vadai, somosas and other fried snacks at the bus station. Samosas, by the way, can be found in many many parts of the world, including Central Asia.


Also of course Indian sweets. Many are similar to those available in North India, but we have also encountered some we have not had elsewhere. The small metal cup next to the yoghurt on the thali shown above tasted similar to a rice putting (kheer), but had tapioca as well as thin noodles. The one pictured below was a thin pancake filled with a sweet bean paste (similar to Korean hotteok).

And tea to wash it all down!