A Lesson From My Student – Persian Rice with Tahdig

I talk to my high school Biology and Environmental Science students all the time about food, cooking, and my garden. I mean not all the time; we do have other work to do. But sometimes it does overlap with the course material. For example, I mention the garlic, potatoes, and strawberries I grow in my garden when I teach about vegetative propagation. Or I use seeds that I sow and the fruits and vegetables that I harvest to discuss the life cycle of plants. The other day I explained how I used a form of Integrated Pest Management to conquer asparagus beetles in my garden. But more often than not, I talk about cooking and my garden as a tool to get to know my students, and for them to get to know me, and as a “commercial break” from the real subject at hand.

I learn about their family meals and traditions, and who has a garden at home. I discover which students like to cook. I encourage them to learn, telling them that they should all have at least one or two “go-to” dishes up their sleeves. “It’s a great way to impress a date” I tell them, noting that their parents would appreciate it too and it doesn’t need to be anything fancy. From all these discussions, I’ve concluded that virtually any teenager will eat fried, breaded chicken cutlets for dinner seven nights a week for the rest of their lives.

Years before Samin Nosrat taught the U.S. about Persian Rice with Tahdig in her cookbook and Netflix series Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, I had a student of Persian descent. I was explaining to the class that I was trying to figure out how to cook this Persian rice dish that you dramatically flip onto a plate exposing the bottom layer, which is purposefully browned, crispy, and delicious. (“Tahdig” means “bottom of the pot” in Persian.) She was so happy I was learning to cook a dish her grandmother made. Over three years, each time I attempted tahdig, testing different recipes, pots, and levels of heat, I shared with her my progress. Sometimes failure, sometimes success. Occasionally burning the rice, often the bottom not cooked enough. She always wanted to see a picture, grading me on my attempts; explaining that from time to time her grandmother’s turned out this way or that, and congratulating me when it came out just right.

At one point I learned that her favorite Persian restaurant was one that I frequent. We discussed the best dishes to order and how much we liked the food. And then she divulged that this restaurant sometimes serves tahdig, but only to those in the know. On my next visit, I inquired, and after the waiter took our order, he said he would ask the chef if there was any left over. A short while later he returned with a gratis plate of shattered pieces of browned rice, straight from the bottom of the pot. But instead of only crispy pieces, it was covered with a small amount of savory stewed meat. I was in heaven, and now I was in on the secret.

While I lost touch with this particular student after she graduated, I still make Persian Rice with Tahdig on a regular basis. The buttery rice with its crunchy, golden crust is perfect served with lamb kebabs or chicken souvlaki, along with grilled vegetables and tzatziki. And every time I make it, whether successful or not, my former student comes to mind. I think about her and all my students and what I’ve taught them; Biology, Environmental Science, cooking, gardening, and food. But I also think about how many students I’ve had over the years, and the lessons they’ve shared with me.

Persian Rice with Tahdig

There are as many versions of Persian Rice with Tahdig as there are cooks in the kitchen. Some use lavash (a flatbread), potatoes, or other vegetables to form the bottom layer, while others create the crust solely with rice. One of the most common additions is a little full-fat yogurt, which purportedly helps the tahdig become crispier. Some cooks add saffron, sour cherries, or herbs for flavor, while others keep it unadorned. My go-to recipe is based on one from Saveur magazine, with a trick from Cook’s Illustrated. It’s plain, but delicious, using only basmati rice, salt, and butter.

The most difficult part of making this dish is getting the perfect tahdig. It’s more than likely that you won’t get it right the first time you try it, or even the time after that. Persist. It will take trial and error depending on the pot you use and your stove, but eventually experience will prevail and you will get it right. The rice will or will not stick to the bottom differently based on what material your pot is made from; each pot has a different thickness, which will make it more or less likely to burn; and the intensity of the heat will vary on every stove. Many cooks suggest using a non-stick pot as an insurance policy, but I find that they are often too thin and the rice will scorch. Rather, I suggest a high quality, thick-bottom pot that disperses heat evenly, as long as it is slightly rounded where the sides meet the bottom. This will make it easier to slide a rubber spatula or thin fish spatula at least part way under the rice and unstick it if necessary, before the dramatic flip.

No matter if your tahdig is over or under-cooked, or sticks to the bottom, the rice will still be buttery-delicious and perfectly cooked. If your tahdig does not come out in one large piece, all is not lost. You can always break it up into pieces and arrange them over the rice on the platter. It will taste just as good.

Serves 4, about 1¾ hours, mostly unattended

1½ cups basmati rice

2 tsp. salt

4 Tbsp. butter, melted

1. Place rice in a large bowl and add enough cold water to more than cover it. Swish the rice around with your fingers and pour out the cloudy, starchy water. Repeat five or six times until the water runs clear, then drain the rice. Alternatively you could place the rice in a fine mesh strainer and rinse it with cold running water under the faucet.
2. Add 1 teaspoon of salt and enough cold water to the bowl to more than cover the rice. Set aside to soak for about an hour.
3. Place 3 cups of water and remaining 1 teaspoon of salt into a 4 or 5-quart pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Drain the rice using a fine mesh strainer and add to the pot. Lower heat to medium-high and cook rice uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the rice is mostly tender and most of the water is absorbed, about 8 minutes.
4. Drain the parboiled rice using a fine mesh strainer and set aside. Thoroughly clean and dry the pot.
5. Add half the melted butter and 2 tablespoons of water to the pot, making sure the mixture coats the entire bottom and at least the lowest inch of the sides of the pot. Mound the rice into the pot making a cone shape. Drizzle the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter, along with an additional 2 tablespoons of water, over the rice and place over a medium-low heat. Wrap the pot lid in a clean kitchen towel and cover the pot tightly, making sure the towel will not catch fire. Steam the rice for 30 minutes over medium-low heat.
6. Lay a wet but not dripping dish towel in a sheet pan. When the rice is done, place the entire pot on the dish towel and let it rest for 5 to 10 minutes still covered. This will help the rice separate from the sides and bottom of the pot. Remove the lid and run a rubber spatula around the inside edge of the pot to make sure the rice is not stuck. In addition, try to run the rubber spatula or a thin fish spatula underneath the rice as much as you can without breaking the tahdig.
7. Place a serving dish over the pot and in one motion while holding tightly, invert it so the rice and tahdig fall from the pot onto the serving dish with the tahdig now on top. Remove the pot. If you are skilled (or lucky) the tahdig will come out in one piece. However if the tahdig is stuck, use a spatula to scrape it out and break it into pieces, placing the pieces over the rice on the dish. Serve hot.

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