The secret of the rice. In the Iranian style, there's something extra



The rice will arrive later, grand airy, basmati clouds of it, each strand–for they are strands more than grains–separate, some saffroned, some flecked green with dill, or red with tart barberry, or blond with sweet-candied carrot.

It will come with a surprise, as well, though I must wait and see.

In my booth at the down-home Persian Grill in Layfayette Hill, I am following Iranian mealtime protocol,

sipping my tea through the sugar cube tucked in my cheek, stuffing the griiled pita with chunks of feta, brined almonds, scallion and tangled fistfuls of fresh watercress.

I am following it to a point: The halved onion–yes, plain white onion–sits untouched. I gnaw only tentatively on the sweet pickled garlic.

This is my third stop on a tour of local Iranian cuisine, inspired by the news that Washington was looking to warm up or slightly unchill its relations with Tehran. As a teaser, U.S. officials lifted a hostage-crisis-era import ban on Iranian carpets, dried fruit, caviar and pistachios. (Iran's quality control for caviar is superior to Russia's, which is good news for consumers. As for pistachios, California growers are wary, but contend their trees yield better-looking nuts.)

My first Iranian outing had been to the Victorian-era Saffron House, 19th and Sansom, where chef Mohammad Aziz had added a new, cheaper menu – "budget Persian."

This hadn't impressed the greeter, who was grouchy and ungracious. But it had its star turns: The sambuseh ($4.50), a crispy wafer-thin appetizer crepe stuffed with seasoned eggplant and ground beef reminded me of the crisp-tender complexity of a Vietnamese spring roll.

My second outing had been to Shiraz in Devon, the ornately tiled; but oddly aloof new Persian restaurant above the nouveau-riche splendor of La Jonquille. Suffice it to say lunch didn't quite overcome the chill of me over-designed environment.

But my Persian Grill dinner with the personable Faith Alahverdian (whose Armenian parents lived in Iran) is off to a much happier start.

The 54-seat spot, a glorified diner minutes beyond Chestnut Hill, now offers far more–orange-glazed Cornish hen, colorful vegetarian entrees, lamb chops–than the wall-to-wall kabobs it had at its launch in 1984.

Every dish, though, still centers around magnificent rice, which is parboiled, then rinsed to get the clingy starch out. Then – in the traditional Iranian way – it's gently steamed, without butter or oil in this version. (A detailed description of this sophisticated art is in New Food of Life, a definitive book on Persian cookery by Najmieh Batmanglij.)

With a fanfare, on the final mound of rice, we are served a glazed golden crust called tah-dig–or, as Alahverdian calls it, her eyes lighting up, "the luxury at the bottom of the pot."

Every cook has her trick to make it–mixing an egg yolk or saffron and yogurt with the parboiled rice and spreading it on the floor of the pot, or lining the pot with lettuce, potato or pita bread, as they do here, to make for a crisp, glistening skin, even as the rice above grows nutty.

Manager Fardad Jafari tells me there is rarely enough rah-dig to go around. Come not expecting to get any. You may be–as I was–pleasantly surprised.

Rich Nichols
Inquirer Magazine May 7, 2000

Iran to Lafayette Hill: a savory culinary journey



" I never thought I'd own this restaurant," says Manouchehr Raouf, owner of the Persian Grill in Lafayette Hill. "Weekends are becoming like the weekdays; we're packed all the time," he proudly insists.

Raouf and his family came to the US in 1983. After living in New York City for a short time, they moved to Lafayette Hill where they started the Grill in 1984. With no restaurant experience, Raouf relied on the shrewd business skills he had acquired from owning an import/export business in his native Iran. In addition, his daughter Rabee came in handy with her experience working at Stefano's, the family-run diner that preceded the Grill. In fact, it was through Rabee that Raouf learned that Stefanos’s would be closing its doors and going up for sale.

The diner style decor of Stefano's made way for portraits of Persian women in traditional garb, copper pots placed here and there, coral hues, and fresh roses on every table.

It's the window frames, though—draped with billowy, rose-pink curtains—which give diners a strong feel of the Middle East. Raouf had each frame reshaped into what is called gonbady: a pointed arch and traditional architectural feature found in Iran.

The lunch counter has been converted to a full bar. There are 12 fruit-infused vodkas to choose from, all prominently displayed in large glass jars brimming with clear liquor and fruit. Traditionally, there are four or five offered in Iran, but Raouf’s customers have asked for more flavors.

And when customers ask. Raouf listens. "When you open a store, you don't have to think what do you have to bring to your customers. They come to you and ask for it." This has created a strong customer base of regulars for the Grill.

Good customer service and, of course, great food are what bring his customers back for more. Persian fare is hard to come by on the East Coast, and Iranians often come from New York, New Jersey and Conneticut to get their hands on the delicate flavors and subtle complexities of the traditional dishes served up at the Grill

According to Raouf, Persian tastes agree well the American diners, but their tastes differ from what we typically think of as Middle Eastern cuisine. Sure there's hummus on the menu at the Grill, but it's a borrowed dish; traditional Persian dishes don’t even use tahini, the ground sesame which gives the hummus its umph.

And the spices are a totally different story in Persian gastronomy. Unlike the potential of hot spiciness in other Middle Eastern fare, Persian dished drift the other way with mellow perfumy additions of rose water, saffron and sumac.

Of the main dishes on the menu, the kebabs—a typical Middle Eastern dish—are especially popular, says Raouf. But there are other less-familiar dishes at the Grill which are equally seductive. Appetizers range from $5.50 to $6.50, entrees from $9.95 to $18.95 and desserts from $3.50 to $5.95.

The Zereschk Polo, an orange-cornish hen, roasted to golden perfection is served along side fluffy basmati rice topped with water-scented orange zest, cherries and piquant zereschk—barberries.

This dish hits the taste buds slight sweetness and perfume (the orange zest and rose water) but then the barberries and cherries kick in, offering a tartness which complements the gaminess of the bird.

It sounds like a complex symphony of flavors, which it is, but the way it works on the taste buds is casual, like good comfort food.

Stews like Chicken Fesenjoon; add to the comforting characteristics of Persian food as well. (In fact, stews are another one of those things that set Persian food apart.) This classic dish pleases with tender chicken soaking up the richness of a ground walnut and pomegranate stew. And it all comes together with rice. Oh, the rice.

Flecked with saffron soaked grains of basmati, he rice is what brings everything together in a Persian meal. Raouf explains that it is the main focus, which is different from other Middle Eastern cuisine, typically centered around pita bread.

Raouf says Persians traditionally concentrated on making the rice as decadent as possible, because historically, rich foods like meat and dairy were hard to come by. Thus, preparing the rice developed into a labor-intensive process involving soaking overnight, rinsing, parboiling, rinsing and then gently steaming.

After making 15-20 pots of rice a day for 17 years, Raouf has perfected his skills He says the parboiling step is crucial. The rice must be cooked for exactly six minutes, and there’s only about a 20-second window of opportunity. He speaks proudly of rice-making skills, claiming that "the only way to really know (when the rice is ready to come off the boil) is by using your eye."

Dessert at the Grill can be a new experience for typical American taste buds. Faloodeh Shirazi is a starchy, rose water-touched Persian ice made with rice noodles, which add a unique texture. A cherry syrup and fresh lemon are served on the side; allowing dinners to regulate the sweet/tart of the dish according to their tastes. The tastes at work are a mix of subtle and bold, as the perfume of the rose water meshes with the sweet and tart of the syrups.

The Grill offers a number of beverages alongside their dishes. The sugars in wine and beer—in particular, the sweeter Belgian ales—go well with Persian fare. But for a more authentic meal, Raouf suggests a pot of traditional Iranian tea, or one of their house made, fruit-infused vodkas. In addition to great-tasting authentic food, Iranians head to the Grill for the hard-to-find Persian CDs (many of which are banned in Iran) and groceries offered for sale. The majority of the Grill’s business comes from local regulars, some who have been coming to the restaurant for over a decade. "A lot of the customers are like family…they know our whole family, our grandchild." And he says, "it’s nice sitting down and talking with the customers—it gives me a nice break."

The Persian Grill is located at 637 Germantown Pike in Lafayette Hill. For more information, call 610-825-2705.

Charles Kelsey
Chestnut Hill Local, Thursday, June 21, 2001