Sunday, February 20, 2011

Persian Marmalade History

The tradition of making marmalade out of quinces and bitter oranges goes back at least 14 centuries in Persia (modern Iran), and likely even farther. This post is boiled down (so to speak) from a presentation I gave yesterday at the fourth annual "Mad for Marmalade, Crazy for Citron" event presented at Fort York in Toronto by the Culinary Historians of Canada.

“For countless generations, the Persians have preserved all manner of vegetables, fruits, and flower petals, first in honey or molasses, and later in sugar to serve them as dessert or at the breakfast table,” writes Forough-es-Saltanah Hekmat in his book The Art of Persian Cooking. But precisely how long ago did the tradition begin? This image, from the Walters Art Museum, shows a Persian dining scene from 1209, but I believe that Persian diners were enjoying marmalade long before this.

Sweets concocted of sugar, fruits and flowers would not only have been considered tasty, but would, it seems, have fit into a traditional philosophy of dining as an almost spiritual practice. Hekmat writes that “a healthful diet of vegetables, fruits, fish, fowl and certain delicacies composed of mixed petals and blossoms of roses was believed to have unusual powers that could transform a man into a gentle and noble creature.”

We have some evidence for the long history of quince and apple preserves from a Pahlavi text entitled "King Husrav and his Boy", published and translated by Jamshedji Maneckji Unvala. King Husrav II of Persia (pictured on this coin, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons), was a historical figure who reigned from 580 to 628 AD. His name is more often spelled in English as "Khosro" or "Khosrow", but can also be rendered as “Khusrau”, “Chosroes” or “Xosrov”. He was also nicknamed “Parvez”, which means “Ever Victorious”. (I'll use another spelling, Khusro, because it seems like a good compromise among all the variants.)

Khusro II is also a character of literary legend. For example, he is the hero of a poetic tale called “Khusro and Shirin” pictured here in a 16th-century illuminated manuscript), which tells how he met and courted his Armenian bride and future queen. In the story "King Husrav and his Boy" (also known as “King Khusro and his Page”), a noble young man named Vasphur whose family has become impoverished requests to be tested for the king’s service. King Khusro poses thirteen questions to Vasphur to test his nobility; not, as one might expect, having to do with his fighting prowess, learning or virtue, but instead about his knowledge of luxurious living.

In what becomes a catalogue of 6th-century Persian fine dining, Khusro questions Vasphur about the best and most desirable fowls, meats, broths, fruits, grains and wines (as well as music, flowers, women and horses). For example, when questioned as to which dish is the finest and most savoury, Vasphur describes the organ meats of a two-month-old lamb fed on its mother's milk and also cow's milk, rubbed with olive juice and cooked in a beef broth.

The fifth question is “Which pastry is the finest and the best?” Vasphur answers: “In summer: the almond-pastry, and the walnut-pastry, and the walnut-bun, and the bun made with fat, and the finger-pastry (...) that they fry in walnut-butter. But with the fruit-jelly that is squeezed out and filtered from the juice of the apple and the quince, no pastry can stand the contest!” In other words, by the 6th century, Persian nobility already thought of quince and apple preserves as the best of all desserts!

Persian cooks had all the raw materials at their disposal very early on. It is thought that the quince tree may be native to Persia. There does not seem to be consensus as to where oranges were first cultivated, but some say bitter oranges first grew wild in Persia on the shores of the Caspian Sea, and were hybridized to produce the sweet orange in China, then returned to Persia by Portuguese traders. Najmieh Batmanglij, in her book A Taste of Persia, points out that “The sweet orange reached Europe in the first, tenth, or fifteenth century, according to various sources, and ironically, took its western name from the Persian narenj, or bitter orange, while in Iran, the sweet orange is called porteqal, after the Portuguese merchants who imported it.”

Clear evidence for the cooking of bitter orange preserves in Persia by about 1300 is found in these lines from the poet Bos-hac of Shiraz, quoted in The Art of Persian Cooking: “Do not be grieved, O Sour Orange! Like the sweet orange, turn into preserves / And then your sourness will change into sweetness.”

Sugar was also known very early in Persia; it was encountered in India by the soldiers of Darius I of Persia around 500 BC, and by those of Alexander the Great around 300 BC. Anne Wilson, in The Book of Marmalade, postulates that "the Persians may have been the first people to have employed sugar as a foodstuff" (as opposed to a medicine).

However long the tradition has been going on, fruit and flower preserves are still today cherished as part of a classic Persian breakfast (sobhaneh), which consists of elements familiar to any European or North American: tea and milk, bread and butter, cheese, eggs, fruit, honey and some kind of preserves. These would most likely be made from tree fruits like quinces, apples, pomegranates, plums, cherries or citrus fruits, rather than berries.

Whereas the English and French jam-making traditions tend to use lemon juice to raise the acid level of preserves, Persians use limes. Also, writes Hekmat, “cardamom seeds are the favourite flavoring [sic] for all preserves. They should be crushed fairly finely in a small mortar with a pestle and added to the preserve 2 to 3 minutes before it is to be removed from the heat.” Rose water and orange blossom water are also common; ginger, cloves, mace, nutmeg and vanilla are less often used.

The Persian word for both jam and marmalade is “moraba”, also rendered “morabaa”, “murabba” and many other ways. It is a borrowing from Arabic, although Persian is an Indo-European language like English. Here are some Persian jam and marmalade recipes to try:
Bibliography
  • Abbott, Elizabeth, Sugar, A Bittersweet History (Penguin Canada, 2008).
  • Batmanglij, Najmieh, A Taste of Persia: An Introduction to Persian Cooking (I. B. Tauris & Co. Ltd., 1999).
  • Batmanglij, Najmieh, New Food of Life: Ancient Persian and Modern Iranian Cooking and Ceremonies (Image Publishers, 2005).
  • Hekmat, Forough-es-Saltanah, The Art of Persian Cooking (Doubleday & Company, 1961).
  • Loohuizen, Ria, The Realm of Fig and Quince, (Prospect Books, 2010).
  • Ramazani, Nesta, Persian Cooking, A Table of Exotic Delights (University of Virginia Press, 1974).
  • Wilson, C. Anne, The Book of Marmalade (Prospect Books, 2010).

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Mad for Marmalade at Fort York


I'm going to be doing a talk with tastings about the Persian marmalade tradition this coming Saturday, February 19 at the fourth annual Mad for Marmalade, Crazy for Citrus!, presented by the Culinary Historians of Canada and Fort York. It runs from 10 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. at the Fort.

The entrance fee ($43 for members, $45 for non-members) includes:
  • a historical lecture
  • your choice of workshop
  • tastings and a wonderful marmalade-themed lunch of historical recipes
  • tours of the 1800-vintage working kitchens at the Fort (where I took the photo of marmalade being cooked on an open hearth, above)
  • a marmalade marketplace with various raffles or door prizes
But – let's face it – the main attraction is the chance to mingle all day with a roomful of canning aficionados as geeky as you are.

The keynote presentation, by 19th‐century Ontario social historian Joyce Lewis, is titled "The Bells of St. Clements: a History of Citrus in 19th‐Century Ontario". Besides my session on Persian marmalade, there are eight other workshops to choose from, most of which include tastings or hands-on cooking demos:
  • Pig Bladders & Brandy: Evolution in Sealing Techniques with Mya Sangster (a favourite of mine, with hands-on work in sealing jars by traditional methods using pig bladders, sheep suet, brandy and beeswax)
  • Mrs King’s Marmalade with Carolyn Blackstock
  • Judging Marmalade Quality with Pat Crocker of Riversong Herbals
  • Pudding, Pond, Sussex with Rosemary Kovac (a lesson in historical cookery with marmalade)
  • Marmalade with Asian Twists with Shirley Lum of A Taste of the World Tours
  • Tomato Trends with Janet Kronick of Dundurn National Historic Site (did you know about 19th-century tomato mania?)
  • Citron Peel Smackdown: Citrus Fruit vs. Watermelon with Amy Scott
  • Candied Peel with baking teacher Jan Main of Danforth Collegiate
There's also a marmalade competition, now with five categories: Pure Seville Orange, Pure Citrus, Other Fruit, Vegetable and Marmalade Baked Goods. To enter, bring a 125 or 250 mL jar along with a $2 fee per jar to the registration desk between 9 and 9:55 a.m. (I'm going to enter a few spare jars, but I'm not feeling they're really champion quality; just a few things I have left around the house.) I'm hoping some of the Twitter crowd will put their handiwork out there to see how it fares in competition.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Charcutepalooza February Challenge – Bacon FAIL!


So on January 15 I read the Charcutepalooza rules for February and excitedly resolved to cure some bacon. The only barrier was one necessary ingredient: what Michael Ruhlman calls "pink salt", the curing agent that prevents botulism.

Problem is, it's a slightly controlled substance where I live, and civilians (those not employed in restaurants and meat curing facilities) aren't supposed to be able to buy it locally. I understand that there are various packaged meat curing products in some of the Asian grocery stores and in the fabulously well stocked Highland Farms chain, but I wanted to go with a very predictable product and resolved to go online for the well recommended Instacure #1. I ordered some online weeks ago, but, what with northeastern blizzards and some ball-dropping on the part of a supplier I will not name, it has still not been delivered.

So instead, I'm posting some thoughts about sodium nitrite, the main active ingredient in "pink salt"; I'll just have to post a bacon report later. (Update: the bacon report is right here.)

If a substance is regulated by government, you have to wonder whether you want to be eating it, and most consumers have probably heard that "nitrites" are something to be avoided. The benefits of sodium nitrite as a meat additive are that it improves the pinky-red "fresh meat" colour (who cares?) and that it prevents botulism (a biggie!)

"What's with all the 'nitrite free' labels on meat packages these days?" asked Christy Mercer in a November 2007 article in Delicious Living. "When heated above 350 degrees, nitrites in processed meat form nitrosamines, which can be carcinogenic if consumed frequently and in large quantities."

On August 3, 2010, Heidi Blake on the Vancouver Sun reported on a study of 300,000 men and women aged 50 to 71 by the National Cancer Institute in Bethesda, Maryland that found "sodium nitrite and nitrate, types of salt that are added to meats such as sausages, bacon and packaged ham as part of the curing process, can react with stomach acid to form carcinogenic N-nitroso compounds during digestion. Adults who consumed the highest amounts of nitrate and nitrite were almost 30-per-cent more likely to develop bladder cancer than those who consumed the lowest amount."

On August 27, 2008, Susan Semenak published an article in the Montreal Gazette that mentioned the report entitled Food, Nutrition, Physical Activity and the Prevention of Cancer: A Global Perspective, published by the American Institute for Cancer Research and the World Cancer Research Fund in October 2007. Pointing out that the report "is considered the most comprehensive study ever published on the evidence linking cancer risk to diet, physical activity and weight," Semenak writes that "It advised consumers to limit cooked meat to about 500 grams a week. But the panel of experts concluded: 'There is no safe level of consumption' for smoked, cured or salted products such as bacon, ham, hot dogs, sausage and luncheon meats."

She names sodium nitrite as the main culprit among cured meats' health drawbacks, adding that "Research in Sweden found that Swedes who ate on average three ounces of processed meat each day had a 15 per cent greater chance of developing stomach cancer than those who consumed two ounces or less."

Even if you're not eating it, sodium nitrite can harm you. It's interesting to read the Material Safety Data Sheet (MSDS). If you don't know about MSDSs, they are the straightforward scientific description of the known hazards, health effects and recommended storage and handling instructions for every chemical substance normally used by human beings in industry of various sorts. (Useful to know: you can google the MSDS for just about anything, from cleaning solvents to art supplies.)

The MSDS on sodium nitrite warns that the raw material is a toxic substance that can cause harm if ingested, inhaled or brought into contact with skin or eyes. That's why it's artificially coloured pink in the US: to guard against accidental ingestion. (In Canada it's not always coloured.)

The American Meat Institute (incidentally, the same organization responsible for this jaw-dropping piece of 1950s advertising) has led the charge to balance the public perception of sodium nitrite. A 2005 issue of The National Provisioner reported that sodium nitrite may have some medicinal benefits; following a study carried out by the National Institute for Health on behalf of the AMI, "scientists say they have infused the anti-oxidant sodium nitrite into volunteers to assess its potential as a treatment for sickle-cell anemia, heart attacks, brain aneurysms, and other conditions caused by problems with low oxygen."

Back in January 2001, Gourmet Retailer magazine reported that the AMI was publicizing a study by the National Toxicology Program (NTP) that "shows that sodium nitrite is a safe food additive. ...its findings help lay to rest any concerns about the use of sodium nitrite as a safe curing ingredient. The multiyear study showed that not only did sodium nitrite fail to produce clear evidence of cancer, it actually showed a strong, dose-response reduction of some cancers. The evidence was strong enough that California's Developmental and Reproductive Toxicant Identification Committee voted not to list the curing agent as a developmental toxicant under the state's Proposition 65 law."

Wikipedia lists quite a few other interesting resources at the end of their entry on sodium nitrite. I was especially intrigued by one study that proposes that falling US rates of gastric cancer since the 1930s may be linked to reduced use of nitrites in cured meats.

Not being a scientist, I feel I have to take the arguments on all sides with ... um ... a grain of salt. Knowing how much less cured meat I eat than the average American (or, probably, the average Swede), I feel I'm not likely to be at greatly elevated risk of cancer after consuming a few rashers of bacon. However, I'm not about to start dosing myself with sodium nitrite as a heart-attack remedy either.

As I understand it, Instacure #1 (also known as Prague Powder #1) contains 6.25% sodium nitrite and 93.75% regular salt, and one pound is enough to cure almost 500 pounds of meat. If this is so and if (as I believe), one pound is equal to 453.592 grams, then a one-pound box of Instacure contains about 28 grams of sodium nitrite. If Wikipedia's arithmatic is correct, a 65-kg person could be poisoned by ingesting 4.615 grams. (That's a person weighing just under 145 pounds for our metrically challenged neighbours to the south.)

So the chances of an adult human poisoning themselves with a box of Instacure #1 are not particularly high, but if I were going to store and handle it regularly (especially in a house with small children and pets), I would heed the warnings in the MSDS ("Keep locked up. Keep away from heat. ... Do not ingest. Do not breathe dust. ... Keep container tightly closed.")

Bottom line: botulism can certainly be fatal, whereas many people have lived long lives eating some cured meat, so as soon as my delivery arrives, I'm makin' some bacon. But I will be very careful about how I store and handle my Instacure.

PS: Want to read more? I just found out that Ruhlman himself has posted a similar piece on his site.

Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Seedy Saturdays 2011 in Toronto


Three editions of Seedy Saturday are coming up soon. Don't be confused that two of them are actually being held on a Sunday; Seedy Saturday is a national series of events that were originally dreamed up by people working with Seeds of Diversity, the organization that protects heritage seeds to conserve plant diversity.

Seedy Saturdays are held across the country (click here for a list of the southern Ontario events). They offer gardeners a chance to swap or buy seeds, and they're a great source for organic and heritage varieties, as well as lots of bargains and even free seeds.

Organized by the Toronto Community Garden Network, our local Seedy Saturdays and Sundays are joyful, bustling events. Entrance is by donation ($2 recommended) and there's usually a raffle of plant-related books and other prizes. There'll be kids' activities, talks and food, and a great wealth of people who can give you advice on topics ranging from heirloom tomatoes to windowsill herb growing.

In short, if you've never grown any food before, this is a great place to get started, and if you're an experienced urban farmer... well you probably never miss one. Here are the details for the Toronto-area events:

Downtown Toronto
  • Sunday, February 13 from 12:30 to 6 p.m. at Hart House (7 Hart House Circle on the U of T campus). Contact: Melissa Benner.
Scarborough
  • Saturday, March 12 from noon to 4 p.m. at Heron Park Recreation Centre (292 Manse Road). Contact: Kate Fullerton at 416-691-5173.
North York
  • Sunday, March 27 from 1 to 5 p.m. at Lawrence Heights Community Centre (5 Replin Road). Contact: Melissa Benner.