Skip to content
Join our Newsletter

Food and drink

Spring a break with easy greens

With spring break in full swing, moms, dads and gatekeepers in general need a break in the kitchen, too. For the fine balance between work and life gets fubarred really fast when shepherding kids freshly sprung from school is tossed into the mix.

What do they say in North America? After all the meetings are met, tonight's dinner is gathered, the bathroom sink swabbed, the yoga poses posed and the kids ferried between snowboard and Mandarin lessons, the average working parent has less time to him- or herself than a lunch break. And that's before spring break has broken the parental back.

When it comes to the food department, the best thing about spring is that it brings us the kind of simple pleasures that make a big difference without much effort. And that's what we all want out of life, right?

For instance, my favourite Persian grocer handed me a little bundle of greenery the other day, freshly arrived for Narouz - Persian New Year, held, appropriately, on the first day of spring.

Try it, she said with a big smile. Persian basil. It's like gold. And so it is.

If you Wiki "Persian basil" you won't get what I got, though. Wikipedia says that "Persian basil" is another name for licorice basil or, more correctly, Ocimum basilicum "licorice" , which has silvery leaves. Other references show a bushy, dark green plant with dark purple stems and flowers, much like what we North Americanos call Thai basil.

But my Persian basil, reyhan it's called in Farsi, has pointed, bright green leaves on a sturdy green stem; the buds promise a white, not purple, flower. However, there are so many varieties of basil and they're so easily cultivated, there's no doubt more than one version of reyhan.

What really counts, though, is the amazing flavour - anise with clove and citrus. Subtle and complex, like so many things Persian.

Just wash the leaves and break them over anything, or mix them in natural yogurt, said my friend who, while packing my groceries, advises me on all things Persian. And so I did: trying them first over slices of tomato, then cucumber - the first organic ones I've seen from local hothouses this season - and even a cheese sandwich.

Nothing else needed, and the ordinary becomes extraordinary. Or at least notable, capable of impressing the palates of sophisticated kids and parents alike in one simple swoop.

The distinctive Japanese herb shiso, also called perilla, with it's big, serrated, pear-shaped, leaves can do a similar job. You've likely seen it as a garnish for your sushi or sashimi, or doing its taste thing in a maki roll.

Shiso is a member of the mint family, but it's sometimes called Japanese basil, and with its pungent minty/lemony flavour it's another easy way to add zip to the ordinary. Bonus, like most dark green leaves, shiso is rich in vitamins and minerals, and it's considered an anti-inflammatory.

Take a cue from the Japanese, who sprinkle spaghetti with thinly sliced shiso leaves, and go full-on United Nations fusion. Shred shiso or reyhan leaves into a bed of greens. Or for a meal in a minute, try them as a finish to a homemade pizza. (Buy a readymade crust and make your own in a hurry.)

Or sprinkle them - or any fresh green herbs - as a final touch over a bed of rich German or Italian egg noodles mixed with good olive oil and curls of your favourite Parmesan cheese. (I'm a Padano girl, greatly outnumbered by many Regianno pals.)

With deference to the thoughtful Persians who, in consideration of others, cook sparingly with garlic, maybe add just a touch of fresh minced garlic to your noodle dish. You'll have a feast in the time it takes to whip up KD, but leaves it crying in the dust.

If you really want to branch out (get it? Leaves, branches, spring - oh never mind...) try a Persian salad as a complementary side dish to your noodles, pizza, or otherwise: grilled kabobs, anyone? Or slices of cold roast lamb or chicken, perfect for a main course.

Buy the biggest chicken or roast your pan can hold. It's no extra work to prep and the more you roast, the longer you'll have excellent leftovers as the centrepiece for easy meals.

"Sabzi", in Farsi, means simply, fresh herbs. Sabzi khordan - translation: "eating greens" - is a platter of fresh herbs served to accompany other dishes, as above. Try reyhan, or any fresh basil will do; mint; both green onions and chives; cilantro; radishes; cilantro; tarragon; and some watercress. In Iran, you might also be served some feta and walnuts that have been soaked in water to soften them.

Sabzi makes a perfect starting point for a notable salad. Chop everything up and go for it. No dressing or lettuce needed, I'm told. To me, the joy of it is that there aren't any strict ratios. Up to you, as you like.

Since I'm told by another expert advisor, namely my mom, that such loosey-goosey formulae can scare some people off, here's a more conventional - and delicious - recipe from javanehskitchen.wordpress.com. It's got a great name: kookoo sabzi.

Preheat your oven to 400 F. Mix one teaspoon each of salt, baking powder and advieh into six eggs. (Advieh is a Persian spice; you can mix some combo of saffron, sesame, cinnamon, coriander and cardamom to get close to it). Sprinkle in one tablespoon of flour and mix well. Add one cup each of fresh, chopped coriander, dill and parsley (so that's three cups total of fresh herbs); one thinly sliced onion; two cloves of crushed garlic and one tablespoon of fenugreek. Pour a couple of tablespoons of oil into a baking dish (a cast iron skillet works fine). Put the oil and baking dish into the hot oven for about 10 minutes, then remove and add your egg/herb mixture. Bake about 10 minutes. Add a bit more oil if you need it, and bake your kookoo sabzi another 10-15 minutes. Slice and serve hot or cold.

Any of the above combos can be made beforehand and kept in containers for easy eating.

How about an early picnic to keep young ones entertained, spring break or not? Yesterday we passed by one family happily tucking into Ziploc containers of homemade picnic goodies while perched on a trailside bench. A huge communal quilt wrapped around their four pairs of legs kept the cold at bay.

"Mom, this is fan-tas-tic!" exclaimed the girl, who couldn't have been more than 10. Now that's the kind of praise that makes everything worthwhile.

 

Glenda Bartosh is an award-winning freelance writer who thinks eggs and fresh herbs are vastly underrated.