Passport & Plate - Uzbek Plov
Uzbekistan | Thursday, March 5, 2015 | 5 photos
Ingredients
This recipe feeds a hungry Uzbek family (6-8 people)
400g beef, best with a bit of fat, (lamb is also a common option for this dish)*
2 large carrots, chopped into thin slices, about 4 cm long
1 large onion, cut into semi-circles
1-2 garlics, whole
500 g rice, washed and soaked for 10 minutes
125 g vegetable oil
spices such as red pepper, saffron, kashmiri chilli powder
dried barberries or other dried fruits for sweet contrast
750 ml of water
*For a less typical, but nevertheless equally drool-worthy vegetarian recipe, simply substitute the meat with more dried fruits such as raisins and plums.
How to prepare this recipe1. Heat the oil in a cauldron or a thick kadai
2. On a low flame, deep fry the onion. (You should hear a crackling sound as the onion is frying)
3. Add meat before the onion starts getting brown
4. When the meat gets a brown colour, add the carrots (don't forget to mix ingredients often!)
5. After 2 more minutes, add the water
6. When the water has mixed in to become a brown colour, add spices and place the garlic (whole!) in the middle
7. Let it simmer for about 30-40 minutes
8. Then add rice, spreading it out on the top without mixing with the meat. Reduce the flame
9. When water reduces, turn the top layer of rice over, so that it cooks evenly; cover the kadai with a lid and leave it to simmer for about 20-25 more minutes
10. When the rice is done, mix everything
The feast is ready to be enjoyed!
The story behind this recipeAn oriental carpet to decorate the floor is something that was widely desired by the Russians back in the 80s. Unluckily for my mum, kitchens in the Soviet Union were incompetently small, even for one person. Nevertheless, to delight her family with a recipe she got her hands on while holidaying in Uzbekistan, she decided to wake up early and prepare her new exotic recipe from scratch.
A kitchen with a carpet made out of freshely prepared, steaming hot Plov and a gasman screaming from pain while hopping on one foot, however, is not how my mum would have wished for the story to end. "And he hadn't even checked the gas!", she kept repeating in half serious dissapointment.
The laughter that united my mum and me as she was telling me this story the first time she was teaching me the recipe, is something I always remember when I make the Uzbek Plov now. It, in the combination with the dish, works as the best remedy for any troubles I am having during the week.
Whether I am with the Berber nomad people in the Moroccan desert or Duarte, the oldest inhabitant of a Portuguese fortress, this recipe always travels with me. It is something I can give back when I couchsurf. It is also something that has a "home" touch to it, without me actually being from Uzbekistan, this feeling I bring to the table when I am cooking Plov for my friends. The warm feeling of connection, be it through generations, continents, or simply opposite view points, can be restored easily by eating the Uzbek Plov together and cracking up about the time my mum dropped a heavy cauldron full of rice on a stranger's foot.
For some people it is a tragic story, for some it is rather comedic, but sharing this story has become a tradition now that comes with this beautiful Uzbek recipe.
People say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, but I have learnt that with a right recipe you can earn the love of anybody. That is why this Plov is so special to me.
