Still spicy: nankutai

Or, Nankhatai if you like. Know what they are? Betcha you don't. I sure didn't, but I'm glad I made their acquaintance and, having done so, it sure seems that Annalena is destined to be the spice girl of 2011.

I am not one of those people who can just go into the kitchen and WHAM - be struck by inspiration and cook away. I need stimulation (I will ask you all to not run amok with that). One source of such is the Chez Panisse website, which I mine, essentially daily, for seasonal recipes. Often, I find myself having a "Why the hell didn't I think of that?" moment. Sometimes, when I see the composition of their dinners, I shake my head and say "yes. That's exactly what should follow that." And sometimes, I see something and say "HUH?" That happened years ago with something called Souffle Rothschild. Now, I know what it is, but I don't make it. Then , they went through a phase where they were making meringata for dessert a lot. I had no idea what that was either. Now I do, and I don't make that. They make a dessert that is described as "norvegienne." I know it as baked alaska, and so on, and so forth.

Well, every year, for reasons I have not quite figured out but I'm glad happens, Chez Panisse celebrates Parsi New Year. Parsi, as you may have guessed, is related to Persia, or Iran. While "Persia" may have taken its name from this ethnic group, the Parsi, as I understand it, now live essentially in Northwest India. And, as I learned, these are the folks responsible for one of the most fascinating religions I know of, Zoroastrianism, and the language Avestan, which is on my list of "things to do." Investigate these, you'll feel like you're on a trip: any religion that puts its dead on a huge "tower of silence," to allow the birds to eat the remains and to rot until the bones fall to the ground, bears some study, I would think.

Anyway, during the week of menus inspired by the woman behind all of this, a dish showed up: "tangerine sherbet with nankutai." I had no idea what nankutai was, but it sounded Japanese to me. On looking it up, I found that there were alternate spellings, one of which, which is preferred , is Nan-khatai or Nankhatai. It's a cookie. And... as with many "classic" dishes, as we've seen, over and over and over again, there are a million varitions. Just google images for nankhatai and you'll see what I mean.

I began investigating. Common to all the recipes were a few things: chickpea flour. Lots of butter (or ghee). Cardamom. And nuts of some kind: almonds, pistachios, or cashews. Also common was the absence of eggs. Very, VERY interesting, and as I was in a cookie making mood, I started exploring.

I found another blog, run by a woman named Manjula. I have a friend by the same name. I THOUGHT she was unique. Well, her name isn't, but her "oneness" remains. Anyway, thinking if one Manjula is good, two must be better, I gravitated to Manjula's recipe.

Ok, now, fair is fair. I don't know whether Manjula the blogger is writing from India, from Europe, or the United States. "The same" ingredient in different countries is not the same. So, the fact that I had trouble with her recipe may be the result of a different quality of ingredients where she lives and here in NY. And that's why we learn to improvise in the kitchen. I am going to go through the recipe for you here, and explain how I changed it along the way. You should make these. They're easy, and they are SO SO GOOD.

You start with an interesting flour mix, and this I did not change. You need 1/3 cup each of all purpose and semolina flour (the Indian names are so cool, I'm going to give them: maida and sooji. OH, I love "sooji.). Then, you also need a half cup of chickpea flour (besam). You really won't have that much trouble finding chickpea flour if you have a good Italian grocery somewhere. Italians, especially Genovese, use chickpea flour all the time, including our wonderful "farinata." Southern French use it to make panisse. This is also the Italian "panelle." So, it's available. You mix these flours together, and then add the tiniest bit of baking soda. So far, we're on the same page. Now, the changes begin.

Manjula called for 1/4 teaspoon of cardamom. I raised my eyebrow. That didn't seem like much and in fact, when I made this the first time, the cardamom flavor was there if you knew what to look for. Otherwise, not. Second time around, I added half a teaspoon, and it's definitely pronounced. If you love cardamom (Jeremy, this means YOU), use the half teaspoon. If you're ambivalent, maybe 3/8 of a teaspoon, unless you have really fresh, really fragrant spices, then use the lower amount. Put all of that together, and then

Combine a stick of softened, unsalted butter and 2/3 cup of white sugar. I used the stand mixer, and you want this to be nice and creamy. This could take a while if your butter is not really soft, so keep this in mind.

Now add the flour mixture. You're not adding any eggs, so you're going to have a really, REALLY crumbly mixture. For me, I found it too crumbly, so the second time around, I added two tablespoons of water, and got a much more workable dough.


This recipe is designed to make 24 cookies, and it does. You may doubt that when you see the amount of dough, which is tiny. These cookies, however, are going to spread to 3 inch monsters in the oven (remember all that butter, with no egg to lock it up). That being the case, I would suggest you DO NOT do what the recipe said (and I did the first time), and put the 24 balls of dough on one cookie sheet. Rather, line two sheets with parchment, and do twelve each. Even so, they will be crowded at the end.

Wet your hands (my addition), to make nice balls, and then spread them evenly over the cookie sheets. Cut a tic-tac- toe pattern in each one with a sharp knife. Then, choose your garnish. The first time around, I used untoasted whole cashews, which didn't move me much. Second time, I used unsalted roasted pistachios, which were much better. Your balls of dough are going to be very small - maybe 3/4 of an inch in diameter, so you won't get much on the cookie as a garnish. Try to shove as much on as you can because of the way the cookies are going to expand.

Bake them in a 375 oven, for about 15 minutes. Since there are two sheets, you need two shelves. Since my oven heats unevenly (yours probably does, too), I move them and change position in the middle of cooking. Keep an eye on them, though, because they go from gold, to brown, to burned, very fast. I like butter cookies a little overdone, so I let mine go to brown. Pull them out before that if you like a milder flavor and a softer cookie. At 15 minutes, they definitely fall into the crispy cookie camp, after they cool.

And this is the last point of difference. The recipe called for 3 minutes of cooling. No. Go for about 15-20. And you're done.

You will have a cookie with a very unusual, interesting and good flavor, that you will want to eat more of than you should. Citrus is a good accompaniment for them. If you're not going to do ice cream or sherbet, how about a citrus based fruit salad alongside of the cookies?

I don't know how to say happy new year in Parsi, but I know it's called "Navroz," so, I hope everyone had a Happy Navroz. Now go and make some cookies.