Bread & Oil: Majorcan Culture's Last Stand
Noshe Djan: Afghan Food & Cookery
Reviews by Barbara Santich
Tomás Graves, Bread & Oil: Majorcan Culture's Last Stand (Blackawton: Prospect Books, 2000), pp. 239, includes bibliography and glossary.
Essentially a paean to one of the most primitive of Mediterranean staples--and in particular, as the author never tires of repeating, a Majorcan staple--Bread & Oil could nonetheless be considered almost an anthropological document. In admirably exhaustive detail, the author describes every step in the production of the principal components, bread and olive oil, from the type of wheat to the fuel for the wood-fired ovens, at the same time explaining the particularities of the Majorcan versions.
Bread-and-oil is sufficient unto itself but usually is complemented by a third ingredient, most often tomato but possibly cheese, tender young garlic, olives, pickled samphire or capers or other pickles, raw vegetables, ham, sardines, even fresh and dried fruit. The snack is as fundamental to the Majorcan diet as the basic ingredients are, separately, to the Majorcan cuisine. (Tomás Graves even calls his band Pa Amb Oli.)
Tomás Graves deplores the vanishing of old traditions (he records only twenty traditional bakeries with wood-fired ovens on the whole island) but notes approvingly the growth of a network of pa amb oli cafes which appeal to the younger generation, the local "fast food" rivalling the globalised pizza and hamburger.
This Mediterranean combination of bread and olive oil has a counterpart in the Anglo bread-and-butter, much less a staple now than it once might have been, but where are the passionate, enthusiastic writings in praise of this tradition? Why is it not glorified in the same way as bread-and-oil? Is it because Anglo cultures have always placed a far higher value on meat? I don't expect Tomás Graves to answer these questions, but his book certainly set me thinking.
Helen Saberi, Noshe Djan: Afghan Food & Cookery, New and revised edition (Blackawton: Prospect Books, 2000), pp. 272, includes bibliography and index.
There are few books on Afghan food and cookery, and for very good reason: the cuisine is essentially local, a self-sufficiency cuisine based on the agricultural resources of the country. It has not travelled, nor been exported; nor, from Helen Saberi's account, does it seem to have been stratified ("high" and "low" cuisines), any differentiation relating to celebratory occasions (New Year, weddings, the first snow) when people prepare particular specialties.
Bordered by Iran, USSR and Pakistan, Afghanistan is the meeting place of four major cultures and its east-meets-west cuisine shows both Persian/Mediterranean and Indian/Asian affiliations. In ancient times it was part of the Persian empire (not surprisingly, rice is one of the major ingredients) and this heritage continues in the classification of foods as either "hot" or "cold". "Hot" foods, eaten to alleviate "cold" illnesses such as colds and depression, include sugar, honey, fats and oils, dried fruits, nuts, meats and eggs; among "cold" foods, believed to reduce fevers, are milk and yogurt, rice, chicken, fresh fruits and many vegetables.
The basic staples of Afghanistan, according to Helen Saberi, are bread (sourdough style, baked in the tandoor, or unleavened, cooked on a hot plate) and tea (sometimes flavoured with "hot" cardamom as a help to digestion). Since most of the cooking is done over wood or charcoal fires, there is an emphasis on substantial one-pot dishes--solid soups; soupy stews, often with pasta; rice pilaus; and vegetable dishes, many incorporating yogurt.
With its 170-odd recipes, most prefaced with details of the place of the dish within the meal or within daily Afghan life, Noshe Djan goes beyond the standard cookbook to become a record of culinary culture.
Barbara Santich is food historian and visiting research fellow in the Department of History at Adelaide University.
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