longer table
What a time!
In no particular order:
It’s a time when the world seems especially precarious but you don’t need me to tell you that.
It’s a time when I’m slogging through grief, again. What the heck, grief? Are you, like, part of the human condition or something? My dad died in September. Unscientific experimenter here, but it seems to me that other griefs do not hang back politely when a new grief drops. Instead, they get together to host a grief revival festival, all stages active!
It’s also that time when I wish a quiet happy book birthday to Extra Helping, which is 6 years old and may choose whatever kind of cupcake it likes to celebrate, though nothing about the present moment calls much for celebration.
What I know for certain at this complex time could dance on the head of a pin and basically amounts to this: we are going to need lots of ways to take care of each other and ourselves. The same ways we’ve always relied on, just more. We need to deploy them deeper, broader and more of the time.
Hardly a surprise that I think food is a good way to do that. We build meal trains for birth, death and grief but we need meals in regular life, too, as you’ve probably noticed. Could we normalize showing up for each other on random weekdays? Let’s give in every time to the impulse to share food: with friends, neighbors, or any community group. There is a lot of talk right now about building new organizations and initiatives, about wearing blue bracelets or flying flags. But mutual aid has been going on around you this whole time. Find your local free food fridge, or start one. Identify a group in your community which is already set up to support people, already doing the things that help make the world more just and welcoming. What do they need? I bet it’s money, time and food. Look for the helpers, and feed them what you have.
Rice is an amazing vehicle for this kind of showing up. Rice has a nourishing network of presence all over the globe, and a big duded-up pot of rice is a simple, economical, and satisfying way to feed any number of humans, on a sliding scale from yourself to a crowd.
By steering your rice pot around the world map, you can build the kind of interconnected feeling which seems especially endangered by what’s being unleashed. As far as I can see, that feeling that we are connected to and responsible for other beings is what will save anything in need of saving, and if you look away from the spectacle for a moment, you’ll see that it’s alive and well and needs feeding to really flourish.
So let’s meet some friendly rices!
The Chinese savory porridge known as congee is a top-notch item to fill a belly or dinner basket, to feed a crowd the night before or day after a big holiday meal, to plop onto a table while some ish gets done. I’ve written about it in the aforementioned book, and also here.
The mild Korean rice and pinenut porridge known as jatjuk is the tenderest, most soothing way to meet a person who’s recovering or seeking comfort. Michelle Zauner wrote about it in her wonderful book Crying in HMart, and made hungry by her I wrote about it here, thanks to a more knowledgeable food writer, Maangchi. Know anyone in need of soothing support (hint: could be you!)? Make that.
Want to drive your pot of rice through Africa, by way of the American south? A big platter of Hoppin’ John never fails. It has a lot of steps, though, so if you’re looking for a one-pot meal with endless possibilities, may I present a South Asian dish known as khichari, and also known as khichdi, khichadi, khichdee, khichadi, khichuri, khisiri, khechidi/khechudi, kisuri, kitcheree, kitchree and, when the British got hold of it, kedgeree, though the Limeys also threw fish and eggs at it so you can disregard them and their ideas and spellings completely. All of its names are derived from the Sanskrit word khicca, meaning a dish of rice and legumes. It is revered as a complete meal which balances not only nutrients but energies.
Right after my dad died, my friend Kari brought me a tub of it and it was just the thing. The most supportive, delicious thing.
Like congee, it needs no adornment to be delicious and welcome, but it plays so well with embellishments that you can go crazy with them if you want to make it special for yourself or some lucky recipient.
A word about the ingredients. I know it’s a cliché to focus on the negative and all, but there is a thing that stood out to me when the book came out, which was an objection to its use of “unfamiliar” ingredients. The top search on my maps app is “Asian market near me,” and I know that is not true for everyone. But even living in an area where none of these markets are especially near me, I know that in between pilgrimages, I can get just about anything from—wait for it, I think you’ll recognize it, random grumpy online commenter—the internet. The same place you get your lightbulbs and underpants and coffee and your jollies being a little bit xenophobic. Nobody gets to rend their clothing with woe over the state of the world if their lunchbox-response settings are stuck at “ew what’s in there IT SMELLS FUNNY,” in my opinion. In my opinion, meeting other traditions and cultures and identities by not only embracing and eating/grubhubbing their food but making it is truly the easiest way we have to build community, which (see above) is the only path out of this mess. The sensory experience as you handle ingredients and then get fed by them is, in my admittedly nerdy experience, the ultimate low-risk/high-reward way to learn about and feel aligned with other humans. 10/10 do recommend.
So, no Indian market near you? Sources abound but I just got an order from here and couldn’t be happier with their selection and its quality. Arrived in a jiffy.
To make a pot of khichari, here is what you need from there, or from any Indian market, that you may not have on hand already. The amounts aren’t huge, and rather than feeling burdened by adding these to your pantry I hazard a guess you might be….glad? Even so, I’ve got substitutions and alternatives listed below.
Split hulled urad dal This is my bean of choice; I find it very agreeable both to digestion and to cooking to complete tenderness alongside the rice.
Masala moong dal a crispy, toasty little bean condiment that adds crunch and more protein; this brand is very mildly spiced.
Aloo bhujia is a brightly-spiced, salty little pop of potato-based flavor. Absolute lily-gilding. If that makes it optional or essential is really up to you.
Black cardamom pods which are bigger, larger and darker than regular green cardamom and have a very different flavor. They can certainly be skipped, but I mean we are already shopping and expanding our horizons, soooo….
Mango pickle There are as many pickles in an Indian market as stars in the sky; this one is my favorite so far but it is hard to go wrong. VERY salty and plenty of heat; a little goes a long way!
Ghee This clarified butter is a staple of the fats and oils I use to cook with and sources abound. I’m never without it!
And as long as you’re loading up the cart, try this saffron chai and thank me later.
Need workarounds? Here they are:
For the crispy masala moong dal and aloo bhujia, use any toasted and/or spiced nut, like a curried cashew, or some pan-toasted pepita or sunflower seeds. But I really hope you’ll take the leap! You say what’s the tastiest surprise you can sprinkle on anything (salad, baked potato, snackish 4pm hand) and I’ll say aloo bhujia and masala moong dal and though I cannot promise to pronounce them correctly, I will say it with passion.
For the urad dal, you can can substitute readily available yellow split peas or red lentils. As its numerous names attest, khichari takes many forms and uses many different legumes as it migrates. Someone somewhere is making it with the bean you can find. Want to elevate your bean knowledge? Here you go.
For the spices: if you just use a bay leaf, turmeric, whole cumin and coriander seed, and a couple regular cardamom pods, you’re good.
For the pickle: welp, there is really no substitute for the impact of an Indian pickle. But any Scoville source, for those who like a little kick, could try to stand in.
I’ve been making this in the pressure cooker, and really enjoying the delay feature which not only handles the soaking but has things piping hot and ready for my future self with only a few minutes of prep time before bed or before I leave the house in the morning. If you don’t have a pressure cooker, it’s entirely possible to make this on the stove top. Though if you don’t have a pressure cooker let mine be the voice whispering “do it” in your ear. When my old one surrendered I thought I could soldier on, and it was Kari who got that train back on track.
I say the recipe calls for 3-4 carrots, but you should really measure those with your heart. I like crispy carrots and lightly steamed carrots as much as the next person, AND—one of my top-tier comfort foods is a really well-cooked carrot so I usually lob at least 5 in there. With 8 minutes of pressure, the squash emerges meltingly soft and the carrots are intact but spoon-ready, and this is meant to be a very savory, comforting sort of mash. If you like a firmer vegetable than you get cooking everything all together, you can add them midway through stove top cooking, or steam the veggies separately and add them to the pressure-cooked mixture at the end.
Turmeric brings a bright hue and plenty of important properties to this dish, and is something you probably have but this is an especially nice one.
Looking for a book-form, immersive dive into Indian food? Let Pushpesh Pant and Madhur Jaffrey be your guides. Seeking easy access to a human with in-depth knowledge to invite you directly into their kitchen? Visit League of Kitchens to find a veritable atlas of world cuisine (and a bombass gift to share with a friend). Loved every second of my online experience there. Do recommend.
urad dal khichari
1 c brown basmati rice
½ c split hulled urad dal or bean of choice (see note above)
3 tablespoons ghee
½ tsp brown mustard seed
1 bay leaf
2 green cardamom pods
1 black cardamom pod
½ teaspoon whole fenugreek seed
½ teaspoon whole coriander seed
½ teaspoon whole cumin seed
1 tsp turmeric
3-4 carrots, peeled
1 delicata or other sweet squash, split + seeded
2 coins/slices fresh ginger, about 1/4” thick, or 1-2 teaspoons grated
1 ½ tsp salt
½ c chopped cilantro
2 cups baby spinach
To garnish (set these out in little bowls if serving at the table, or use small jars if you’re packing it up for delivery), any or all of the following [See note above for substitutions]:
Plain yogurt, or if you want to get fancy, make a simple raita by mixing grated carrot and/or cucumber into plain yogurt along with some minced fresh mint.
Thinly sliced onions, sauteed until brown and crisp
Wash the rice and dal in 2-3 changes of water and drain.
On your cooker, set the saute option for 3 minutes. Warm the ghee and add the dry spices, stirring 2-3 times. Add the drained rice and dal and stir well to distribute the ghee and spices. Add a scant 4 cups of water and turn off the pot.
Chop the carrots into large chunks. Slice the squash lengthwise into quarters, then chop crosswise into ½” slices. When I use a delicata I don’t bother peeling it, but you’ll want to peel any other type. Add the orange vegetables to the pot along with the ginger and salt. Select 8 minutes pressure cook with at least a 2 hour (and up to 6 hour) delay start.
Different beans and rices gobble water at different rates, so when cooking is complete, if the mixture looks tight or dry add a half cup water to achieve a kind of risotto consistency, stirring gently with a spatula so the veggies stay intact. Then add the spinach and cilantro, stirring gently to incorporate, and extracting the bay leaf, whole pods and ginger as they go by.
To prepare this on the stove top, you would follow the same steps, increasing the water by a cup and simmering 25-35 minutes, adding the vegetables about halfway through cooking time if you prefer them firmer, and stirring frequently.