Loubieh Polo

I've started taking Farsi (Persian) lessons with a nice woman from Tehran whose daughter happens to be our seminary class president this term. Yesterday I went to her house for Persian, and she decided to teach me some recipes for our lesson. Yessss!

First, she asked me if I know how to cook Persian rice. I said we have a Persian rice cooker. "No no no," she exclaimed, "You need to know how to cook Persian rice yourself!"

Admittedly, if you can't do the rice, you might as well give up on learning anything else about Persian cooking. The rice is key. It's not a meal without rice. And as such, there are probably hundreds of different rice varieties. Having a party featuring Persian food? Better have about three different types of rice.

What's so special about Persian rice? First, it's a long grain rice, such as basmati. Second, it's light, fluffy, and not sticky. Let me repeat: not sticky. I recall a time when Linus's aunt from Phillie was talking about rice and with a look of disgust described East Asian rice's mushy stickiness. For Persians, sticky is bad. Don't get me wrong, I am happy to appreciate both, but cannot stress the importance of Persian rice's non-stickiness.

Third, there's this miraculous and beautiful part of properly prepared Persian rice that occurs on the bottom of the pan: "tadig". Tadig is the golden and crunchy layer of rice on the bottom of the pan that is intentionally cooked that way. For me, even with the Persian rice cooker, this is the hardest part to cook right and also my favorite part to eat. For most Persians, the tadig is a coveted treat in the course of a meal. Case in point: while we were visiting family in Texas, my father-in-law took the last of the tadig before a cousin got back from an errand. The other Persians chastised him, said that the cousin would want some, and so forced him to put some tadig back. One of the neat things about tadig is that like the rice itself, it can be prepared in multiple ways. There's probably more, but I know of the plain tadig, potato tadig, and naan tadig. I've eaten all three, and I like all three, especially the naan tadig (made with a very thin layer of Persian bread or naan). Here's a picture of plain rice with a potato tadig:


The fourth and final point about what makes Persian rice so special is in my opinion all the delicious ways that it can be prepared, from the various types of tadig to the various meals that can be made from a rice dish alone. There's plain rice with plain tadig. A variation on that would be with saffron and barberries (or just saffron or just barberries):


One of my absolute favorites is made with lots and lots of dill.


And then there's rice dishes with more substantial ingredients to make a meal out of it, such as "loubieh polo".

After teaching me how to make the basic rice, my Tehranian taught me how to make loubieh polo, which I had never had before. In Farsi there are several words for rice. Uncooked rice is called "berenj". Linus will have to remind me what "chelo" is exactly (I think it's for plain cooked rice?). And I'm pretty sure that "polo" refers to rice cooked with more than just spices. "Loubieh" are green beans. So, loubieh polo is literally rice with green beans. But, fortunately for legume-intolerant Linus, there is more to the dish than just plain green beans. Loubieh polo is made with carmelized onions, ground meat (traditionally ground beef or lamb, but I just made some with ground turkey), tomato paste, green beans (traditionally fresh, but canned or frozen works fine), some salt and pepper, turmeric, paprika, and cinnamon. After carmelizing the onions and cooking the meat with the spices and the onions, you mix in the tomato paste and the green beans:


Then in your pot, you alternate layers of semi-cooked rice....Stop.

This is how you cook the rice: rinse the rice first, then boil it in more water than you think you should with a tablespoon of salt for 10 minutes. The water should already be boiling when you add the rice and you should start counting the 10 minutes after it returns to a boil. Then drain the rice in a strainer and pour about a cup or so of fresh water on it to get some of the salt off. Then proceed to whatever recipe you are using it in. (For just plain rice you would first put 1-1.5 TBSP olive oil in the bottom of your pot as well as about half a cup of water. Then put in the rice. Optional: it might be a good idea to put an additional tablespoon of olive oil on top of the rice and an additional fourth a cup of water. Cook, covered with a paper towel under the lid, on high for five minutes, then on low for half-an-hour to an hour depending on your tadig preference.) Resume.

Ok, so for loubiyeh polo, you alternate layers of the semi-cooked rice and the thick meat/green bean sauce in your pot, ending with sauce. Then let it all steam for up to an hour, covered, with a paper towel underneath the lid. Make sure that before the first layer, on the bottom of the pot you put in one to two tablespoons of olive oil and about half a cup of water to make the tadig. It's good with a layer of thinly sliced potatoes for a potato tadig. It's important that for the first five minutes (or until you can see steam coming out from the sides of the lid), you cook it on high, and then for the rest of the hour turn the heat down to low.

That first five minutes on high is critical for getting a crispy tadig. It will still taste fine without it, but as I learned tonight, it really should be on high for those first five minutes if you want tadig. Mine tasted great, but I didn't get a tadig because I only had it on medium at first. In other words, don't be afraid of burning the bottom of the pot--that's why there's tadig in the first place. Oh, and when it's all done steaming, you should stir it up a bit (without disturbing the tadig) to get the rice and the sauce properly mixed.

Now I know why my Tehranian scoffed at the idea of a Persian rice cooker. Doing it the right way, I got a beautiful consistency. I don't know if I'll ever be able to go back to the electric one. Maybe for plain rice...

Alright, now you all know how to make Persian rice and loubieh polo. If you can follow my meandering directions, that is.

All thanks to Farsi lessons. Lucky me! Hopefully next time I get the tadig right, and then I can have some people over for loubieh polo or another type of polo. So, if you're in Columbus, let me know when you want to have your first experience with Persian rice from my kitchen. I might even be persuaded to cook some on trips home!