Bakhsh

This dish comes from the Bukharan Jews of central Asia – my understanding is that they were originally Persian Jews, but ended up settling in what is modern-day Uzbekistan. The moment the wall came down and the Soviet empire dissolved, 17 of them went to Israel and the remaining 50,000 packed up and moved to Queens. That’s all I’ll say about the Bukharans because it’s all I know, except for the fact that their cuisine is quite delicious and seems to be at a genuine crossroads of the middle east, east Asia, and south Asia. And that is all I’ll say about that.

This dish is a plov, also referred to as ilav, pilau, pilafi, pulao, palaw, palavu, palov, polov, polo, polu, in different parts of the world, and popularly sold as pilaf in this country. Countless versions of this technique for cooking rice appears throughout central, Eastern, and Southern Asia; the Middle East; Latin America; and the Caribbean. Broadly, the dish can be described as rice that is cooked with meat and vegetables, usually in stock or broth.

This particular dish is made with a ton of coriander, aka cilantro. What a revelation. I usually make it with chicken but like it best with lamb. I believe the most traditional version uses the ass fat from fatty tailed sheep, also known as the thots of Central Asia, but since neither Whole Foods nor Key Foods nor any market in between sells this, I omit it. Nonetheless, there’s something about constructing the dish with chicken breast that, while delicious, seems to lack a certain silken luxuriousness which is owed to the presence of fat. Certainly you can use chicken breast for this, but for the most success, use the bird’s fattier, richer thighs.

There are so many versions of this dish and just as many opinions, I’m sure, as to the proper preparation, occasion, serving mechanisms, etc. Some traditional wisdom seems indicates that the most luxurious bakhshs are cooked in special basksh bag, but this version isn’t cooked in a bag any more than it utilizes ass fat. In any case, like the other recipes in this section, this really isn’t bakhsh, it’s just my version of something similar, which I’ve created from extensive research both in person and online, which in this case mostly has involved watching a lot of Russian youtube videos on the subject (I think). Like many folk recipes, there seem to be infinite variations, so the rule of the day is what’s available to you and what you like to eat – with that in mind, here is a version of bakhsh that might delight at least a Bukharan who grew up in Queens.

Ingredients:

• 1 pound chicken thigh or lamb leg steak cut into ½ inch cubes, or 1 pound ground lamb
• ¼ cup olive oil
• 1 medium onion, diced
• 2 large bunches cilantro, ends of stems trimmed, and well washed and dried, then minced (stems and leaves)
• 2 cups basmati rice
• Salt and Pepper
• Roughly 3 cups chicken stock, hot

Directions:

Start by heating the olive oil in a large Dutch oven over high heat. Meanwhile, warm your stock in another pot – when it just comes to a boil, turn the heat all the way to low. You don’t want your stock to reduce, but you do want it to remain just shy of boiling.

Add the meat to the hot oil in the Dutch oven, season lightly with salt and pepper, and brown, stirring semi-frequently, until it is cooked through, about 5 minutes, maybe less. Add the onions and another pinch of salt and pepper, then reduce the heat to medium low and cover. Cook for about 10 minutes stirring only once or twice, just to make sure that nothing is sticking to the bottom or burning. If stuff is sticking to the bottom, your heat is on way too high or you need to go buy a new Dutch oven.

Unless you prepped everything in advance, you’ll probably want to prepare your cilantro now. You don’t need to run your knife over it lots and lots of times – once is enough, just to make sure it is finely chopped, but no need to go crazy. Also this is a good time to wash your rice. I believe you can use almost any kind of rice you like – but I’ve only ever made it with long grain rice, specifically basmati. Others seem to swear that a plump medium grain, like Bomba rice, is perfect for this, and while I can’t attest to it, I can’t see how they’d be wrong. Just make sure whatever you use that it’s rinsed well.

Some kinds of hybrid rice, like Texmati, don’t need to (and shouldn’t) be washed. But most do. The character of the final dish is elevated IMMENSELY if you wash your rice; in fact I’d go so far as to say that not rinsing rice ruins the dish. This is not an optional step (although during an unenlightened point of my life I thought it was) There are two good ways to wash rice, the first probably more effective but the second perfectly acceptable. I’ve heard from some Iranians in the know that you should use lukewarm, not cold, water, and they’re some of the fluffiest rice makers in the game, so that’s what I always do. Method 1: submerge the rice in a bowl of water, then gently massage it with your finger tips and pour the water out. Repeat until the water runs clear, about 5 times (you can also drink the water you pour off from your first rinse – it’s delicious – or use it to make something else, like horchata). Method 2: place rice in fine mesh strainer and place under the tap until the water below runs mostly clear, gently shaking, tossing, and massaging with the other hand all the while. Whichever technique you use, make sure to drain it well.

In any case, after the meat and onions have cooked for about 10 minutes, the onions should be soft. At this point, add the chopped cilantro, cover again, and cook for another 10 minutes, again, stirring only once or twice to check on it.

After 10 minutes, you should have a wonderful meat/onion/cilantro mixture in your pot. Add the rice and turn the heat to high. Add enough stock to just cover the rice, stir once or twice to make sure everything is evenly distributed. When the liquid starts to boil, reduce the heat to medium low and allow to simmer gently, with the cover off.

After about 6 or 7 minutes, all the liquid should be absorbed to the point where you could pile the rice up in a mound. This is a version of one traditional way to make a plov – I don’t know why. If you use your spatula to start piling the rice up in the middle and it just starts sliding back, it needs to keep cooking and the liquid needs to either keep absorbing or evaporating. When it’s to the point where the rice mixture is just malleable enough to pile up (don’t let it get too dry!) start building a mound in the middle of the pot. If you were to taste it at this point, it would still be chalky in the middle, but you’ll be able to heap it from the sides to the middle. Pull from the edge and draw the rice towards the middle, going around in a circle or rotating the pot so that all around the edges there is virtually no rice, and you’ve got a mountain in your pot with the highest point in the center. Some traditional plov techniques will have you poke a hole with the back of your spoon right down the middle – I don’t know why and I never do.

At this point, turn the heat to it’s lowest setting and cover. You’re going to steam the rice now, so if you don’t have a tight seal, use a tea towel or foil in addition to the lid of your Dutch oven to really keep the steam in. Steam this way for about 20 minutes without checking on it. A heat diffuser is your friend.

After 20 minutes, your rice should have the most wonderful fluffy character, should be veritably infused with cilantro and lamb or chicken, and will have taken on an undeniable green hue. Turn off the heat, fluff with a fork, serve immediately or while still warm and enjoy.