Roast chicken with all the trimmings

2/11/10

A few days ago the father had suggested that I cook a traditional British meal for them, which sounded like a good idea, if only to give the mother one meal off cooking. I couldn’t think of anything more traditional, most likely to be enjoyed, and comparatively easy to buy (or so I thought) as roast chicken with all the trimmings. In my house, this always includes bread sauce, as many vegetables as possible and gravy.

And so the mother and I went to the market which is a short taxi ride away. Everyone here travels by taxi as it is the only way to get around the city. There is no public transport. But the fares are only 1-2 somoni and it seems to work fairly well, especially since the influx of second hand western cars which means there are many more taxis plying their trade.

When I remarked on the fact that she was wearing her  thick gold chain, she replied  “I am with you so my heart is strong”.  Bless her!
Yesterday we were talking about wearing jewellery.  She was saying that she usually just wears it for celebrations,  as people can sometimes rob you for your jewellery. 

The chicken is not sold often here, I think more people eat beef. But am glad I didn’t attempt roast beef as that is a tricky one to get right. We found one frozen chicken, which I thought had come from Iran as there was Persian writing on it mentioning halal etc. It was only when I got it home and looked at the packaging properly, I realised it came from Brazil. Now that is one overtraveled bird! Oh well. We found carrots and potatoes which was not worried about. I thought we might find leeks, called piroz – but these turned out to be spring onions. We also bought beetroot, maybe not your traditional roast fare, but I love roast beetroot so why not! Also cauliflower was bought as well. The bazaar is full of people with their few vegetables and herbs laid out, each one with the weighing scales. We hop in and out of the crowd. It is nice to see the mother in the outside world, rather than just in the flat. She tells me that she usually goes to the market in the morning as the food is fresher.

Getting home we start cooking, I realise we only have one hob and the oven is plugged in on the floor. Because it is almost cooking time for everyone in these flats, the oven doesn’t get very hot. It will work better later on, when there is less competition for power. M tells me what an important part of a new bride’s identity it is to be able to cook well for her husband, his family and their guests, as otherwise she will literally be laughed and gossiped about. She says that when she was first married she didn’t know how to cook, and that it was only by practising and asking the neighbours, that she learnt how. She told me everytime she cooked plov or osh, the pilau rice with carrots and meat that is the national dish of Tajikistan, she got a headache, as she was so worried how it would turn out!

Now she was taking notes at my cooking, which I wanted to ask her, to say, wait see if you like it, before you write it all down!

The father and older brother come home, and the little girl is saying she is hungry eating bread. It is almost ready. Just the gravy to make, I start laughing, when I realise that due to the beetroot, I will be serving pink gravy tonight! The meat is served, and I tell the father about the British custom being that the father of the household carves the meat. This he does and the food is laid out. I was interested to see whether the family would like the bread sauce, (I wondered if this was the first time this had been served in KT)! But I was pleased when I tasted it that the meal tasted just as it should. If they didn’t like it, then they just didn’t like roast dinner, it was not that I hadn’t done the dish justice.

They all seemed to enjoy it, and of the mountains of vegetables that I thought much too much, most were polished off. When they thanked me, I said it was a small token of my appreciation of their hospitality, and they seemed to be pleased.