My Rice (& raisins) Bed
During my time as a food editor at Yankee magazine, I was coaxed into entering a recipe contest, along with my friend and mentor, Polly Bannister. Polly wanted to enter a rice salad into The Oldways Sun-Maid Raisins & Rice Recipe Contest, and I was vehemently opposed. I implored Polly to enter her stuffed grape leaves, the ones she had made for Mel Allen’s birthday. Allen is editor-in-chief of the venerable regional magazine. He is a New Englander with Lebanese and Jamaican roots, making for a fusion culinary pedigree.
Yankee’s headquarters are in Dublin, New Hampshire, 1,493 feet above sea level. At lunchtime, we often walked a four-mile loop to and from the highest village center in New England. The loop features mountain views and sections so steep they call for topics that take time to ponder and offer chances to catch one’s breath. Detailed memories of romance and food worked best. On one such ascent, Mel described a boyhood flavor to us, to get us up the hill: stuffed grape leaves, pillowy soft bundles bursting with lemon: sweet, tart, and savory all at once. For Mel’s next birthday, Polly whipped up a batch to share. They were gone in minutes.
Polly and I argued about the contest entry for some time. I finally agreed to enter the rice salad and she would enter the stuffed grape leaves, to cover our bases. Off we sent our entries.
A few weeks later, Polly got nervous about the implications if either one of our recipes actually won. If the salad took a prize, it was technically her recipe, yet entered by me. Stuffed grape leaves was my idea, so if it won, what would we do? At Polly’s suggestion, we worked out every permutation of a possible win at several levels: top prize, second place, etc. This way, no matter what happened, it would have been decided beforehand and would not mar our friendship.
Good thing, too. Polly got the call on a Saturday: Stuffed Grape Leaves took second place! $10,000! We checked our notes: we would split the winnings. The trouble with prize money is, it’s quite taxable, so after we figured in Uncle Sam’s take, I got $3,000. All for insisting Polly submit her delicious recipe.
I was 30 years old at the time, and had just purchased my first house. I decided to use the prize money on a splurge: a sleigh bed. I had always wanted one. A friend who grew up in High Point, North Carolina, the furniture capital of the world, guided me on how to buy directly to save money. Six weeks later, a semi-truck pulled up at the end of my driveway and unloaded a gorgeous queen-size cherry sleigh bed.
Twenty five years later, I still have the raisins and rice bed. It started out in Jaffrey, NH. From there it traveled to Wilbraham, Amherst, and Deerfield, Massachusetts, and now is back in Amherst. It has weathered two marriages, two dogs, and provided a good night’s sleep for many beloved family and friends. Including Polly.
The thing is, I like raisins well enough, but not in my stuffed grape leaves. My version is based on Polly’s award-winning recipe, with alterations inspired by my marriage into a Greek family of excellent cooks.
Stuffed Grape Leaves
The amounts given here amount to a double batch of most regular recipes.
2 16 ounce jar of grape leaves in brine (about 50 whole leaves after any partial leaves or torn ones have been discarded)
4 cups cooked white rice
6 medium onions
1/2 cup olive oil
1 cup roasted nuts: pignolia is traditional, I use with walnuts.
1 cup chopped fresh herbs in order of importance: parsley, mint, dill, cilantro, basil
1 tsp each: cinnamon, cayenne, nutmeg, chili powder
2 T honey
zest and juice from 6 large lemons
Rinse and drain grape leaves in three cold water full-sink washes. You’ll be tempted to shortchange this process and only drain only once or twice, but you must resist. The brine has a distinct flavor that will otherwise overpower the delicate spices and lemon this recipe announces and it takes three rinses to properly dial it back. Separate each leaf to rinse them properly. After each good soak, drain in bunches in your biggest colander. After rinsing, spread each leaf between dry towels in single layers.
While leaves dry, prepare filling. Saute onions in olive oil until translucent. Add spices and herbs and cook for two more minutes while blending. In large bowl, mix rice, toasted nuts and onion mixture until well combined. (If you want to add raisins, add up to a cupful, minced, here!)
To stuff leaves: Lay a leave underside up and place a generous tablespoon of filling at the stem end. Fold sides over mixture and roll from the stem end, making a bundle. Line two large skillet with the remaining leaves. Sprinkle with lemon juice and place bundles snuggly in the skillet. Add water to almost cover the bundles, and simmer gently for 20-25 minutes.
Serve hot or cold. Makes 50.