An Arabic Dinner

We had such a treat last night: a cooking demonstration and traditional Saudi Arabian meal, right here at the schoolhouse.


Nora (an approximation, I think!) and her daughter Sarah did the cooking, while Aziz, the twenty-something son, translated. Aziz does not know how to cook, and his mother and sister don't speak any English, so we did a lot of guessing. Actually I was surprised at how universal the physical language of cooking is, and how useful for communicating! Most of the time I could guess what Nora needed before Aziz could get the term out of his not-so-useful translating gadget.


The centerpiece of the meal was an elaborate rice platter. First Nora put an enormous quantity of jasmine rice aside to soak. Then she put two Cornish game hens in a pot to make broth, with Arabic spices, lots of cardamom and cloves, garlic, and onion, and the cutest two whole dried lemons. In a separate skillet she sauteed onion with chili powder, a seven-spice blend in Arabic packaging, and a pinch of saffron she brought along in a little fold of tin foil. It was a deep burnished brick color when she finished.

Also for the rice platter, she sauteed pine nuts in olive oil until they were rich and dark, and at the same time had a pot of broken-up spaghetti on the boil. When it was cooked, she drained it and tossed it with some of the saffron onions.

Then she took the hens out of the broth, put the rice in the broth in an enormous pot to cook, doused the chickens with the saffron onions, and put them in a hot oven to brown. Whew! At this point we had a lot of dirty dishes!


Meanwhile, she started on the salad. Everything she used she chopped into the tiniest, most delicate shreds, using my shamefully dull paring knife. A head of iceberg lettuce, a bunch of green onions, red, yellow, and green bell peppers, canned corn, black olives, and two whole bunches of cilantro, and several cucumbers. It all went into a big bowl, ready to be doused with the most surprising salad dressing. When I described it to Giles, he said, "Wow, that doesn't sound good for you!" Nora mixed mayonnaise, ranch dressing, and--get this!--salsa con queso from the chip and dip aisle at the store! So unlikely sounding, but really good!

And on the top, a big tomato cut into a flower shape.

Now, back to the rice and chicken assembly. When all the components were ready, we hunted out the biggest platter I own, that only comes out for the Thanksgiving turkey. It was just right for the enormous quantity of rice that was spread out evenly on it. Then came a layer of saffron onions. Then the two game hens were nestled down in vertically, and in their cute little empty cavities Nora stuffed the cooked pasta! It flopped out so festively! Then the pine nuts were sprinkled over all, and the platter was garnished with slices of tomato and green bell pepper.


All of this was carried in state to the table, which had been set by the girls. We admired the food, and Nora told us in Arabic that "the eyes eat before the stomach." I love that!


She and Sarah and Aziz very graciously served up all the plates, and I was so impressed that Aziz could carve two Cornish game hens for fourteen people. It was just right. They encouraged us to mix the salad and the rice dish together, and Aziz tried to get us to eat with our hands, like him, but I noticed that both Sarah and Nora were using their forks!


After we ate Aziz served the men, and Sarah served the girls, tiny cups of "Arabic coffee". This was our second hot drink of the night and Aziz was driving me crazy with his inability to tell us what we were having. The translator said *java* which was really not helpful. I'm sure our after-dinner cup was ginger with lots of sugar and some cinnamon. The first one was creamier and almost orange with lots of floral and spicy notes . . . I'll probably never know, but it sure wasn't java!


Such an enjoyable evening! Nora has a twinkling, friendly, quiet presence and showed off her fancy party clothes under her covering coat when all the men were outside.

A culture so different from ours, but cooking and eating together, and good times in in the kitchen and around the table, are truly universal.