THE COOKBOOK TEST #0031: MAYDĀN (PART TWO)
INSTALLMENT #0031 (FREE) DATA GATHERING / ALTERED CHICKEN / RICE, NOT-SO-NICE
Dear Readers,
Last week’s installment was a straight-up rave review of MAYDĀN: RECIPES FROM LEBANON AND BEYOND. Making the book’s punishing lamb and hummus method resulted in a culinary reward as rich as anything I’ve ever tasted, and when you go through that kind of a journey with someone, it tends to create a lasting bond.
I am both sad and pleased that I kept cooking out of Maydān after last week’s adventure, because it turns out that making additional recipes results in learning additional information. Case-in-point: one recipe that needs some substantial adjustments (provided below, courtesy of yours truly) and another that needs to be yeeted into a blast furnace.
at your service,
James
MAYDĀN: RECIPES FROM LEBANON AND BEYOND
BY ROSE PREVITE WITH MARAH STETS
ABRAMS | 2023 | $40
First things first: an ambitious charcoal and chicken and rice situation that needed a little editing.
MANDI: TAKE TWO
Maydān’s recipe for Mandi, a Syrian charcoal-flavored chicken rice situation, is very much my jam [1]. Chicken and/or beans and/or rice, from just about any tradition, is one of my power foods - I eat it and my mood and energy level just perks up appreciably. Once, at the Miami airport in the middle of what turned into an 18-hour delay, I got a hot plate of chicken and rice at 11pm and it saved the entire day.
This dish is made intriguing through a home-compounded Baharat spice mixture, and a little smoky piece of charcoal that goes right into the pot to smoke stuff up. But in practice, when I made the dish, the proportions weren’t quite right, the chicken turned into a minor ordeal, and the charcoal turned into something of an unfortunate non-factor.
Even with all the various hiccups, the finished dish was quite tasty, and the copious leftovers were tasty (or tastier?!) as well.
My adjustments:
More cooking time, thermometer technology. The original recipe called for a 50 minute cooked, verified by slicing into a thigh and obtaining clear juices. I found that clear juices were NOT a predictor of completely cooked chicken, and ended up roasting for another 30-40 minutes. Granted my chicken was a little bigger than the 4 pounder called for here, but the method really needs some finessing for the home cook.
More detail re: charcoal. After nearly 10 minutes under the broiler, my charcoal lump was barely ignited - I figured it would continue burning and get the job done, but it mostly sputtered out and made little impact. I’ve added some specificity about how engulfed you want your charcoal, and warned you to use aluminum foil rather than a metal bowl (as the charcoal destroyed one of my little metal prep bowls.)
Less rice. My version of Mandi includes half the rice of the Maydān version. And while it STILL might be too much rice, it will at least seem plausible, as opposed to being an absurd overestimate.
More tasty toppings. The original Mandi recipe calls for ¼ cup each of almonds and raisins; I’ve doubled that, which, in addition to halving the rice, should make the dish feel festively adorned, not begrudgingly decorated by a Fixins Miser.
MANDI
Serves 4-6
Chicken
1 roasting chicken (about 4 pounds)
2 Tbsp Baharat (see below)
1 ½ tsp kosher salt
½ tsp ground turmeric
2 Tbsp olive oil
Rice
1 ½ cups (270g) basmati rice
1 tsp Baharat
1 tsp kosher salt
¾ tsp ground turmeric
1 bay leaf
To Serve
1 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 Tbsp olive oil
½ cup sliced almonds
½ cup raisins
Baharat
Makes about 1 cup
Mix in small sealable container: ¼ cup of sweet paprika, ¼ cup ground cumin, 2 Tbsp ground black pepper, 2 Tbsp ground coriander, 1 Tbsp ground nutmeg, 1 Tbsp ground cinnamon, 1 ½ tsp ground cardamom, 1 ½ tsp ground cloves
Spatchcock your chicken. In small bowl, combine Baharat, salt, turmeric, and oil. Stir into thick paste, rub paste on chicken. Place uncovered in the fridge for at least one and up to 24 hours.
Preheat oven to 450 F. Place flattened chicken, breast side up, on a rack in a roasting pan and roast for 15 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 350 F and roast until thighs are about 160 F at thickest point. Remove from oven and let stand for 5-10 minutes. Cut chicken in half along the breastbone.
Meanwhile: cook the rice. Rinse rice until the water runs clean then drain well. Pour 2 ½ cups of water into a large Dutch oven or other heavy pot with lid. Add Baharat, salt, turmeric, and bay leaf. Bring to boil, stir in rice, bring back to a boil. Cover pot, reduce heat, and simmer for 15 minutes until water is absorbed and rice is just tender to the bite. Remove from heat and leave covered for 5 minutes.
Have ready a small bowl made from aluminum foil. Place a charcoal lump or briquette on gas flame or in broiler until bright red. Uncover pot, fluff rice, remove bay leaves, place chicken halves side by side on rice and then nestle bowl with coal between the chicken in the rice. Pour a Tbsp of vegetable oil into the bowl and immediately cover pot and let stand for 10 minutes.
To make garnish, heat olive oil over medium-low heat until shimmering, and then add almonds and raisins and cook, stirring, until lightly browned, about two minutes. Use slotted spoon to transfer to bowl. Just before serving, uncover pot, remove dish of charcoal, cut chicken into pieces, and sprinkle with the raisins and almonds.
TAHDIG: A PERSIAN RICE-BASED DISASTER AREA
My mother-in-law, Ingrid, is a first-rate home cook. Starting from a place of mutual wariness, we’ve grown over the years to respect each other’s kitchen instincts, and I’m happy to take her advice on the occasions when it’s volunteered.
Case in point: For the last couple of years, she’s been raving up a leftover rice-and-yogurt recipe that crisps up in the pot, creating a rich, tasty crust. Her directions have always been a bit vague, but I thought to myself: If I ever see a proper recipe for this stuff, I’ll give it a shot.
Lo and behold: I flip open Maydān to page 142, and there it is: a method to make Tahdig, a Persian leftover rice-and-yogurt based recipe. As an added bonus, I have cups and cups and cups of extra rice leftover from the Mandi (see above), so obtaining four cups of cooked basmati is as simple as opening the fridge.
The recipe is simple: whisk together a quarter cup of yogurt and ¾ cups of vegetable oil at the bottom of a pot. Add half the cooked rice and pat it down; add the other half of the cooked rice, and dollop 1 Tbsp of butter on top in little bits. Cover the pot and heat on high for 4 minutes, then use a towel to really seal the lid and cook on medium-low for an additional half hour. Remove the lid, use a knife to loosen the rice, invert and voila! A lovely crispy, full-flavored cake of rice.
Or, in my case: a freaking disgusting pile of oily, inedible rice and a bottom-of-the-pan disaster that resembles an open landfill after it’s been liberally doused with napalm.
This simple method went so supremely sideways for me that I’m hard pressed to understand what happened. I don’t really know, but consulting three other Tahdig recipes online revealed ratios of somewhere between 2-4 Tbsp of oil per four cups of rice, not the 3/4 cup called for in this disaster. That might be it! It would certainly explain the oil slick disaster situation, at any rate.
In closing: I love Maydān, I recommend Maydān, I will continue to cook from Maydān … but I will suggest it with a medium-sized and clearly articulated grain of salt henceforth.
Moments after writing this part of the newsletter, Ingrid texted me with specific directions for her version of yogurt rice. It was a very different dish - almost 50/50 rice/yogurt, and a lot less vegetable oil. I figured I’d give it a try, using some leftover rice from a recent outing to Gyu-Kaku. The result was quite delicious - crispy, chewy, tangy, and beautiful to look at. Saffron and/or pomegranate could take this up to another level, as could a sauce or other rice-complementary leftovers.
TAHDIG ALA INGRID
Take a 10” non-stick pan and spray it with Pam.
Mix one cup cooked rice with nearly one cup plain yogurt. Spread evenly in pan about a half inch thick. Optional: add some grated Parmesan and salt.
Put the lid on the pan, and cook on low for a full 30 minutes, until crispy on the bottom. Flip out onto a platter.
[1] FOOTNOTE: If you’re like me, you’ll end up singing about Mandi to the tune of Candy by Iggy Pop. Infuriating.