Suzme And The City Of Winds
Thank you for being here and for being part of this little corner of my world. It means so much to know that you are reading along, cooking the recipes and sharing these stories with me. I am truly grateful that you choose to spend a little of your time here, and I hope you enjoy this one.
Hello friends!
Flashnews! I’m going back to Baku!
I don’t have the exact dates yet. My passport arrived yesterday, and the kids and I are impatiently waiting for theirs to arrive so I can finally book our tickets. Maybe I’m being unreasonable, but the passport office has been painstakingly slow, and so has the post.
It has been seven years since my last trip. It seems like a lifetime ago, but when I look through the photographs, it feels as though it was only yesterday that I was there, sipping tea with jam, eating baklava and watching people stroll along the old Torgovaya, now Nizami Street.
And people do love to stroll in Baku. It is almost a national sport. In fact, that is how Troy and I met. I was out walking with my sister one evening when we crossed paths with Troy and a group of his friends. One of them knew my sister from work, so we stopped to say hello. And that was the beginning of a love story that eventually swept me away from the city of love, wind and fire, all the way to the other side of the world.
It feels bittersweet thinking about Baku. The nostalgia I sometimes feel in the pit of my stomach is so intense that it makes me wonder what it is I am actually missing. Is it Baku itself, or the carefree days of my youth and the person I was then?
Of course, I am aware that my view of Baku is probably awfully skewed and certainly idealistic. But that is entirely permissible. It is my hometown, after all. Memory has a cunning way of keeping the beautiful parts and dimming everything else, and in this case, I am quite happy to let it.
Still, I shall admit, Baku is not without its frustrations. There is the endless bureaucracy, where something that should take half an hour can swallow an entire day, and the sense that what looks glossy and impressive from the outside is just that: an exterior. Baku has become a polished looking city in so many ways, but once you scratch beneath the surface, it becomes apparent that things are not quite what they seem.
And yet, I miss it so much.
I miss the steady, warm sunshine of late summer and early autumn, and the breeze from the Caspian, tinged with that not-so-faint trace of crude oil. It is hardly a scent one would imagine to miss, but I do.
When I think of Baku, I hear the sound of the Tar and Kamancha. I picture freshly brewed tea poured into little armudu glasses and the faint scent of bergamot. Tea is such a big part of Azerbaijan’s culinary culture and is almost always served with delicious murebbe and old-fashioned candies in their crinkly paper wrappers. I remember the vivid colours of our traditional carpets and the worn cobblestones of the Old City under my feet. I can not wait to walk those streets again, to hear Azerbaijani spoken all around me and in all likelihood wonder how so much time could possibly have passed.
As for the food, I don’t even know where to begin. I still maintain that the tomatoes from Zire, on the outskirts of Baku, are the tastiest in the whole world. I crave warm tandyr bread, salty cheese and bunches of herbs on the table. I want kebabs straight from the hot coals and the many dishes I haven't eaten for years.
I know some things will have changed. Perhaps quite a lot. I have changed too. But there are things I hope will feel exactly as I remember them.
And above all, there is my darling Mama.
Seven years is way too long.
If I were to describe Baku to someone who has never been there, I would probably say it is city of contradictions. It is ancient and modern, extravagant and rough around the edges, European and Eastern, sometimes all within the space of a few streets. Grand, almost Parisian buildings sit alongside Brutalist Soviet apartment blocks, while some rather audacious modern architecture rises behind the ancient stone walls of the Old City. Perhaps that is what I love about Baku. It has spent centuries sitting somewhere between East and West and has never felt particularly beholden to choose.
I have always loved the local bazars. The stalls are piled with pyramids of dried fruits and spices, fresh fruit and vegetables, bunches of herbs, salty cheeses, and an array of pickles and preserves. Vendors always offer something to taste before you buy: a piece of cheese cut from a block, a pickle fished from a jar or a handful of dried fruit offered across the counter. It is best to visit the bazar with an open mind and no particularly set shopping list, simply because you will almost certainly leave with things you had no intention of buying.
Azerbaijani cuisine is wonderfully varied and very much shaped by the seasons. We eat plenty of lamb and other meats, fish from the Caspian, rice dishes fragrant with saffron, stuffed vegetables, soups and stews, alongside an enormous amount of fresh herbs and vegetables. Yoghurt and salty cheeses are part of everyday eating, as are pickles, preserves, nuts and dried fruits. There is a wonderful balance of rich and fresh, sweet and sour, with pomegranate, sour plums, sumac and herbs often cutting through richer dishes. Perhaps what I love most is that the ingredients are allowed to taste like themselves. A ripe tomato with bread, cheese and a handful of herbs can be as welcome on the table as an elaborate plov that has taken hours to prepare.
Food is such an important part of life in Azerbaijan, and perhaps one of the things I miss most is the abundance of beautiful fresh produce. Fruit and vegetables are still very much eaten with the seasons, and when something is in season, it is everywhere, plentiful and delicious.
As a nation, we are incredibly generous hosts, and no guest will be able to leave the table hungry. There is always more food than anyone could ever eat, tea is constantly being poured, another plate appears just as you insist you could not manage another bite, and refusing seconds is never accepted on the first attempt. Feeding people is how we welcome them, look after them and, very often, show our affection.
Shah Plov - Baku 2019
All the photographs in this story are from my last two trips to Baku in 2019. The photograph of me pouring tea was taken by my dear friend Cassandra Charlic, with whom I had something of a whirlwind trip around Azerbaijan. But that is a story for another time. For now, it is time for the recipes.
Suzme - Azerbaijani Hung Yoghurt Cheese
Yoghurt and fresh cheeses are an essential part of Azerbaijani cuisine and are just as likely to appear on the breakfast table as they are alongside lunch or dinner.
Translated from Azerbaijani, Suzme, simply means “strained”, so the name is rather self-explanatory. I often serve suzme at my cooking classes, usually with confit garlic, and it has always been one of the favourite condiments amongst my guests. It is incredibly simple: yoghurt mixed with salt and strained until it becomes thick, creamy and almost cheese-like.
Ingredients
Muslin cloth
1 kg greek style yoghurt ( I use Farmers Union brand)
1 tbsp (15ml sized tablespoon) sea salt
Method
Mix the yoghurt with salt to taste. Spoon it into the centre of a clean muslin cloth, gather the edges together and tie securely.
In cool weather, hang the bundle outside for 6–8 hours to allow the whey to drain. I simply hang mine from the washing line with a bowl underneath to catch any drips. In warmer weather, leave it to drain in the refrigerator instead.
Once the yoghurt is thick and creamy, transfer it to a container and refrigerate until you are ready to serve it.
Confit Garlic With Herbs
Since I shared a way to make hung yoghurt cheese, I felt I had to include my confit garlic too, as I hardly ever serve suzme without it. Unlike many popular recipes for garlic confit, which are made in the oven, this one is cooked on the stovetop.
I make confit garlic often and always find plenty of ways to use it. I spread the soft cloves over bread, add them to bread dough when I am baking, or simply serve them alongside suzme.
Ingredients
15-20 garlic cloves, peeled
2/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
2-3 sprigs each of thyme, rosemary and sage
1 bay leaf
Method
Place the garlic cloves, herbs and bay leaf in a small saucepan and cover completely with extra virgin olive oil.
Place over the lowest possible heat and cook very gently for about 20 minutes, turning the garlic cloves halfway through. The oil should barely bubble and the garlic should soften and become lightly golden without browning.
Allow to cool, then transfer the garlic and oil to a clean jar. Keep refrigerated and use within 4 days.
Next time, we are heading much closer to home, to Gnarabup beach, where the arrival of spring brings very low tides and the perfect opportunity for a little octopusing. I will share a few stories from our beach, some photographs, and a recipe for one of my favourite ways to marinate octopus.
