Another year, Another dish
Happy New Year.
Another new year, another milestone in Ranya’s cooking. It’s been a while since I last attempted to create complex and labor intensive meals and with Mom leaving our freezer well-stocked, I had become more of a consumer than a producer. This weekend in January, however, brought about a change – a stride towards earning the title “house-wife” in all its Lebanese grandiosity. I made Kibbeh Arnbieh, and am actually proud of the outcome. I had delivered a meal close enough in taste, texture and look to what Jeff and I had last had at Tant Nano’s, and I want to share the story.
It all started with an unplanned stroll to New Seasons market, one of the more prestigious and spendy of the stores in Portland. Jeff and I do not typically shop there, except for such items as Organic Olive Ciabatta, Clover Honey in bulk, body wash in bulk, water refills and, when Mom was here, deserts. As a matter of fact, and come to think of it, we hardly ever get anything more than that from there, other than the occasional odds and ends when we find ourselves in a pickle. We do certainly, nonetheless, like to stroll over there every now and then, especially when the weather permits, to see what they are sampling and to browse their isles.
On this Sunday morning, I found myself at New Seasons while talking to Dad. I had received a blue tooth device from Jeff for the Eid and I was putting it to use after finishing my Starbucks Mocha. Jeff was still in the coffee shop reading his way through the $5 Sunday New York Times when I put my $.24 a minute call through to Beirut. One street led to another and then I was looking at a crate of blissfully colored blood oranges. They had a few cut open and I was instantly drawn to their distinctive crimson flesh and their characteristically colored.
In Lebanon, blood oranges, known as Laymon Mawardy, are a near staple in households when in season. Not only are they marveled for their wonderfully tart and yet sweet juice but they are also sought after for their beauty; a fruit that brings to mind the sun setting over a calm blue sea and rising at dusk from behind a serene white mountain.
Their juice serves not only as the primary source of Vitamin C to children and adults, alike but also as an ingredient in several Lebanese dishes. The most renown, and possibly the most difficult and time consuming of these, is Kibbeh Arnbeih, an explosion of flavors in your mouth. And that is the dish I brought to our table on that Sunday afternoon.
A concoction of juices extracted from navel oranges, blood oranges, mandarins and lemon stirred in with caramelized onions and tahini brings forth a dish that calls upon the taste buds to work collectively and individually to discern the complexity of the flavors. Sweet, tart, nutty, earthly, meaty, and, when mixed with rice, starchy. Kibbeh Arnbeih is a witness to how the simplest of the ingredients can bring forth the most complex of dishes.
You start with browning the onions, add the tahini and then slowly and steadily add the juice that has now turned a wild color of red and orange. Then comes the stirring process, and what a process: 30 minutes of continuous round movements – with a wooden spoon- over moderate heat. When the tahini breaks into an oil surface you know you are nearing the end of stirring. You add the kibbeh, stir a little longer, cover and let the flavors marry. Then, you enjoy!
Enjoy!
Another new year, another milestone in Ranya’s cooking. It’s been a while since I last attempted to create complex and labor intensive meals and with Mom leaving our freezer well-stocked, I had become more of a consumer than a producer. This weekend in January, however, brought about a change – a stride towards earning the title “house-wife” in all its Lebanese grandiosity. I made Kibbeh Arnbieh, and am actually proud of the outcome. I had delivered a meal close enough in taste, texture and look to what Jeff and I had last had at Tant Nano’s, and I want to share the story.
It all started with an unplanned stroll to New Seasons market, one of the more prestigious and spendy of the stores in Portland. Jeff and I do not typically shop there, except for such items as Organic Olive Ciabatta, Clover Honey in bulk, body wash in bulk, water refills and, when Mom was here, deserts. As a matter of fact, and come to think of it, we hardly ever get anything more than that from there, other than the occasional odds and ends when we find ourselves in a pickle. We do certainly, nonetheless, like to stroll over there every now and then, especially when the weather permits, to see what they are sampling and to browse their isles.
On this Sunday morning, I found myself at New Seasons while talking to Dad. I had received a blue tooth device from Jeff for the Eid and I was putting it to use after finishing my Starbucks Mocha. Jeff was still in the coffee shop reading his way through the $5 Sunday New York Times when I put my $.24 a minute call through to Beirut. One street led to another and then I was looking at a crate of blissfully colored blood oranges. They had a few cut open and I was instantly drawn to their distinctive crimson flesh and their characteristically colored.
In Lebanon, blood oranges, known as Laymon Mawardy, are a near staple in households when in season. Not only are they marveled for their wonderfully tart and yet sweet juice but they are also sought after for their beauty; a fruit that brings to mind the sun setting over a calm blue sea and rising at dusk from behind a serene white mountain.
Their juice serves not only as the primary source of Vitamin C to children and adults, alike but also as an ingredient in several Lebanese dishes. The most renown, and possibly the most difficult and time consuming of these, is Kibbeh Arnbeih, an explosion of flavors in your mouth. And that is the dish I brought to our table on that Sunday afternoon.
A concoction of juices extracted from navel oranges, blood oranges, mandarins and lemon stirred in with caramelized onions and tahini brings forth a dish that calls upon the taste buds to work collectively and individually to discern the complexity of the flavors. Sweet, tart, nutty, earthly, meaty, and, when mixed with rice, starchy. Kibbeh Arnbeih is a witness to how the simplest of the ingredients can bring forth the most complex of dishes.
You start with browning the onions, add the tahini and then slowly and steadily add the juice that has now turned a wild color of red and orange. Then comes the stirring process, and what a process: 30 minutes of continuous round movements – with a wooden spoon- over moderate heat. When the tahini breaks into an oil surface you know you are nearing the end of stirring. You add the kibbeh, stir a little longer, cover and let the flavors marry. Then, you enjoy!
Enjoy!
posted by Ranya | 5:20 PM
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