I've been spending a lot of time in the kitchen the past few months. Its not the nicest place to be in the summer, given the lack of air conditioning, but I'm finding an incredible amount of comfort in the time spent preparing things from scratch - slowly, carefully, deliberately. A dearth of ready-made ingrediants and an abundance of produce lends itself to fresher, healthier dishes. I've been making crazy noodle salads, pastas with fresh tomato sauce, fruit juices, and the occasional curry, of which two of three came out too spicy for human consumption.
I rarely have to set foot in a supermarket if I plan it right. I can get most of my fresh ingrediants on my block. Within 100 meters of my apartment building, I have an egg man, a fruit and vegetable stand, two "mini mart" type stores with dry goods and some dairy, and a kitchen supply shop for trash bags and such. My favorite place in all of Cairo might be the produce shop on my street - not the cleanest, not the nicest, but stepping inside smells like September back home, when we harvested the last of the root vegetables from my father's garden - earthy, dirty, and sweet from the concentrated sunshine of a long, hot summer.
The vegetables get a thorough rinsing under running water and get put up to dry on my dish rack.
I'm not as careful as I was advised to be about disinfecting fruits and vegetables (which could explain the repeated bouts of Giardia...) but I can't bring myself to put bleach, even a drop, on anything I intend to ingest. Ick.
As you can see, I've done a good job amassing spices and seasonings - some inherited from co-workers who have moved on, some purchased, some smuggled back in my suitcase from trips home.
I do have a microwave, but I only use it maybe twice a week. It was an impulse buy from my neighbors when they moved back to the States - I thought I might regret not buying it, but of course, it just takes up too much space on my counter. The toaster, however, was a worthwhile purchase.
I have a filter so I can drink the tap water, and a water heater for the sink.
My stove/oven is gas, which is a bit terrifying (turning on the oven is a whole other post).
Today I'm having folks over for brunch, and I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to try and make my mother's Bloody Mary mix - from scratch.
My mother loved her Bloody Marys. Bloody Mary brunch was a Sunday institution in our house, on the mornings Mom skipped church. She loved the good Lord and tried to attend church somewhat regularly, but she also recognized that He wouldn't have made vodka, tomato, and horseradish such a delicious combination for no good reason - and surely He wouldn't want her to drive to services with a buzz.
She and my father got serious about their quest for the perfect Bloody Mary mix a few years after I left home. This recipe was their preferred mix until they came to Austin and discovered Zing Zang (used by my favorite hangover recovery room, Rio Rita). They started ordering that shit by the case and having it shipped to the house. I came home for Christmas and found two cases (12 bottles per case) in the cellar.
Since Egypt doesn't exactly have a huge market for Bloody Mary mix, I figured this brunch was the perfect opportunity to try the homemade route.
In short, this was nowhere near as easy a project as I imagined it would be. By the end of it, my arms were sore, my kitchen looked like a crime scene, and I was fairly drunk.
Here's how you can replicate the experience:
1. Mince 1-2 green peppers.
2. Slice 20 (yes, 20 - I had to say it in Arabic for the vegetable stand guy to believe me) tomatoes.
3. Add some chopped onion and celery.
4. Juice enough limes/lemons to equal about a third of a cup
5. Add a tablespoon of salt, crushed garlic to taste, and 1/4 cup of sugar to take the bite out of the tomatoes.
6. Add about 1/4 cup of horseradish sauce.
7. Finally add crushed red pepper, Sriracha, or Tabasco to taste and simmer until the tomatoes turn to mush (about an hour).
At this point, the kitchen was pretty hot, and I needed a beer to cool down.
After I finished the beer, it was time to deal with the cooked tomato mush. My mom's recipe specifies either pressing the tomatoes through a food mill or a "fine sieve". I don't have a food mill (I'm not actually sure I know what that is) but I did have a small sieve and thought that would work just swell.
Note the size of the sieve in comparison to the volume of tomato mush. I had severely underestimated the task in front of me. The size of the sieve necessitated pushing only a few tablespoons at a time of the mush through at once, and squeezing out all the liquid required a fair amount of muscle. After 15 minutes, I started to get sweaty and thirsty. A second beer started to sound like a good idea. This did not, however, do any favors for my motor skills.
At the end of an hour of squeezing, I was left with less than a quart of Bloody Mary mix, sore arms, all visible kitchen surfaces covered with tomato gore, and a pretty good buzz.
BUT - I have to say - this stuff is delicious. I'm not convinced it would be worth the effort back home given the wide availability of pre-made mix, but I'm pretty excited to serve it....in small doses....cause I might want to save some for later...'cause I did work so hard in making it and all....are you sure you don't just want some orange juice with that vodka?
