conchiglie with labne, spinach and almonds |
white is known for the absence of hues
that are visible to the naked eye. this explains why some argue that it is not
a colour at all. a (my sister-in-law) disagrees. she is an artist. she says
that white is like light. it contains the full spectrum of colours that are
sometimes visible, like when a rainbow appears in the sky.
as an artist, white is elemental. it is the colour of most surfaces that artists paint or drawn on. surfaces that are not white to start with are usually primed with white. this is because a white background gives depth and dimension to the colours applied to it. white is also used to create shades, either as a lightener or when used to highlight darker tones. auntie s made a portrait of mama in pastel when i was in my early teens. i was fascinated by how she built colour, using white to lighten, brighten and blend.
for me, white exists on a spectrum. i
prefer warm whites, ones that have a creamy undertone. a cold tone of white
reminds me of the bluish glow of tube lights. tube lights were very popular in
pakistan through the nineties. tube lighting has the unfortunate effect of
casting unsightly shadows. i grew up in rented houses and one of the first
tasks that we undertook as a family was to fix the lighting. mama and baba
taught me how to use lamps and warm bulbs and muted fabrics to create warm
light.
when i started cooking, i noticed the
similarities in the workings of white in the kitchen. white has multiple
attributes. it conjures the flavours of richness (cream and butter), tartness
(yoghurt) or nuttiness (some cheeses). it has the effect of emphasizing
contrasts. take for instance the startling effect of a squiggle of cream in a
bowl of barszcz or sliced mango. in both cases the cream highlights the earthy
pink-red of the beets or saffron yellow flesh of mango. cream can also dilute and mute colour like
those of soups or stews enriched with it.
like a, i see certain white ingredients
as beginnings. milk and basmati come together with low and slow cooking to
become kheer. often, pale slivered almonds are rifled through the milky
pudding. the fragrance of steamed basmati is synonymous with pure white and the
beginnings of elaborate dishes such as pulao and biryani.
many of my favourite foods lie on a
spectrum of white. mama used to make dinner rolls shaped like a knot. their
surfaces were pale biscuit and the insides pure white. one cannot go wrong with
béchamel. as children, it was the perfect tv dinner. mama would make it in a
two-handled saucepan. we would watch top of the pops on weeknights while
dipping toast fingers into the pan of béchamel. baba introduced me to hico’s
vanilla ice cream. it was pale white and
very different from the processed bright yellow one that i was used to.
and how can i forget yoghurt. yoghurt is
an enduring love. it is a staple ingredient in my kitchen. i love its different
forms. live yoghurt has a watery consistency. its sharpness is particularly
suited to raita or as an accompaniment to pakistani food. richer and denser
kinds like natural, greek and skyr work well as a condiment. i often mix them
with harissa or tahini to dollop over a bowl of grains and lentils. they come
together with roasted vegetables to make dips like borani, tzatziki or baba
ghanouj. serve these with a fresh salad and some toasted pita for a light
supper. labne (often described as yoghurt cheese or hung yoghurt) is very
versatile. i slather it on toast with honey or smear it on a plate as a base
for poached or roasted fruit for dessert (like my roasted peaches with brown sugar labne).but most often, i use it to make a
pasta sauce that has all the comfort of a creamy base but with an assertive
personality. it is tart and deeply savoury.
labne |
this recipe is for a. it is an
accidental recipe. i had intended to make o’s favourite spinach and ricotta
pasta only to find that there was no ricotta. labne was the substitute. it
worked so well that o asks for it often. the pairing of yoghurt with pasta is
not unusual. the turks make tiny dumplings called manti cloaked in a yoghurt
sauce. the afghan’s use kashk (sour yoghurt) to garnish mantu. the wrapper for
mantu is much like pasta. i liken them to ravioli. iranians drizzle kashk into
bowls of hearty ‘aash’. the soup is thick and fortified with greens, beans and
stubby sticks of noodles like spaghetti.
{conchiglie with labne, spinach and almonds}
250 grams blanched spinach
450 grams labneh* or hung yoghurt
250 grams conchiglie* (or any shell
shaped pasta)
zest of a lemon
3 cloves garlic
2 tsps salt + more for the pasta water
olive oil
pul biber or dhara mirch (if in
pakistan)
toasted flaked almonds
some notes on the recipe: i like to use conchiglie;
a large shell shaped pasta. i like the shape but more importantly the crevices
in the pasta mean that the sauce settles into the hollow. if you cannot find
conchiglie use a pasta shape that would allow the sauce a space to settle.
labne is easy to make. it is essentially
hung yoghurt. i like to use greek or full fat yoghurt. a kilogram of yoghurt
yields roughly the amount you need for this recipe. follow my instructions here
to make labne.
make a rough paste from the garlic and
salt using a pestle and mortar. chop the blanched spinach. zest the lemon.
heat three tablespoons of olive oil over
medium heat in a wok or saucepan that is large enough to accommodate the pasta.
add the garlic paste and lemon zest. fry them gently until the garlic looses
its raw edge and browns lightly. turn the heat up and add the spinach. sauté
briefly. the spinach should remain bright. remove from the heat and allow the
pan to cool slightly before stirring in the labne.
cook the pasta until al dente. make sure
that you salt the pasta water generously. i like to follow bee wilson’s rule
that states that the water should be as salty as the sea. drain the pasta
reserving a few tablespoons of the pasta liquor.
add the pasta to the yoghurt sauce and
stir gently until the pasta is coated with the sauce. add a little of the
reserved pasta liquor if the sauce is too thick. you want a creamy texture.
drizzle with extra olive oil. sprinkle
with pul biber and some toasted almonds. eat.
Wonderful writing, beautiful sounding pasta!
ReplyDeletethank you! i love the tanginess of the yoghurt. i am not a big fan of creamy pasta. x
DeleteReading this I remembered the Dutch 'hangop', which is yoghurt or buttermilk strained through a damp teatowel
ReplyDeletei had no idea that the dutch also like yoghurt. i would love to know more. x
DeleteIt's a farmhouse staple and therefore rarely seen in recipes. I think it's traditionally made with buttermilk, which makes sense, or soured milk cultures. When people make it at home nowadays they will use yoghurt which is more available. There's also a big tradition of making homemade yoghurt in France, using a yoghurt making machine!
Delete