Travelling with your frying panby Wendell Steavenson / August 21, 2013 / Leave a comment
Published in September 2013 issue of Prospect Magazine
Omnivore that I am, I like to eat everything from everywhere. Years ago, teaching myself how to cook Japanese from books, I noticed that four ingredients—soy sauce, mirin, dashi stock and miso—kept reappearing in every recipe. I conceived a pet theory that the world’s cuisines are really only different flavours applied to familiar ingredients. Take any ordinary steak or salmon, say, or aubergine or cucumber, and add one or more of the above and it would come out Japanese. This was an enticing idea (easy! no foreign techniques, no need to buy a hibachi grill or to master sushi rolling!) and I could make it work for other cuisines too. Italian: tomatoes, olive oil, basil, oregano. French: butter, white wine, chicken stock, tarragon. Thai: green curry, lemongrass, fish sauce, coriander. Indian: garam masala, curry leaves, lentils, yoghurt. Now I live in Jerusalem, a mashed up Levant culinary hotpot, and in my larder are the four pillars of the region: zatar, pomegranate molasses, tahini and harissa.
Of course it is a half baked theory, simplistic and silly and easily discarded. But useful to keep in mind when you are at home, standing with a couple of chicken breasts in front of a four burner gas stove and would like to travel a little in the frying pans of your imagination. So sear up the chicken and dust it with the dark green thyme-and-sesame zatar; the tahini gets leavened with lemon juice for a little gummy side sauce; dress a lettuce with a vinaigrette made with the sweetish tang of the pomegranate molasses and dinner is, pouf, magic carpet, transported to the Middle East.