Cardamom pistachio cake, a perfect pairing with qawha or chai
I’ve mentioned before how cardamom is my all time favorite spice in the whole world. There is nothing I love more than the aroma and taste of cardamom.
If you don’t know what this sensation feels like, you are missing out. Cardamom as a pod is how I best like to store them and then freshly grind it yourself when needed. Or simply crush it a little between your teeth and add to stock or steeped teas for a little extra flavoring. The steeped tea reference relates to how we make our Kurdish tea, that is a future post for sure. Pistachio, on the other hand, is one of my favorite nuts in the whole world. It packs a punch with flavor and color, but plays tricks on your mind where you can easily finish an entire packet without realizing how much you have devoured. It’s a little trickster, that nut. Alas, two of my favorite flavors packed into one coffee cake.
There is no coffee present though, but it is a typical cake styled or paired with coffee (or tea), hence why it is Eden Grinshpan’s version of a coffee cake, without the namesake. I am slowly eating my way through Eating Out Loud, and this was one I had to make as soon as possible, because I felt it was screaming my name through flavors. It sure was. There’s a lot to say about pistachio, but there’s even more to say about cardamom. Firstly, pistachio is thought to be indigenous to Iran, but largely native to all regions of Central Asia, including Afghanistan. It is globally known, internationally enjoyed and robust in flavor and color.
When I first came across the recipe laden across the page with beautiful food photography, I was hesitant about the mix of pistachios with all the other flavors in this cake, particularly the cardamom. I thought the amount of ground pistachio may become too overpowering and possibly flatten the taste of the cardamom that needs to shine through. I was mistaken, to my relief, because the two flavors weirdly enhance and marry one another in the mixture, even though you are putting in exponentially way more pistachio than cardamom. I rarely have recipes calling for pistachio and cardamom, and that may be weird for a Middle Eastern like myself, but strangely this was the first. You taste both the dominant ingredients throughout, which is a sign of good recipe testing. Cardamom is strong when ground and if you sniff it it will hit the back of your throat instantly. It is a deceiving spice. I always put a smidge more than any recipe calls for, purely because I love it, however, you should take caution, it is more pungent than you know. Once used to your measurements you can always increase the amount for future recipes to your liking.
Cardamom is an extremely underrated spice outside of the Middle East and I haven’t really addressed it yet. Fun fact, the ancient Egyptians would chew on the pods as a teeth cleaner. The Greeks and Romans used it as a perfume. So would I. I should start looking into that. It is native to the Indian subcontinent and Indonesia, now cultivated in many more countries of the East. Cardamom is especially close to the Kurds, because some of the first references of it come from the Sumer and Ayurvedic literatures of India. Sumer is the earliest known civilization of Mesopotamia, modern day Kurdistan and Iraq. They are one of the world’s first civilizations, along the likes of Ancient Egypt, Ancient China and some more. Sumerians are a part of our complex Kurdish ancestry. We are truly ancient, indigenous people and that is widely unknown in modern day history. Cardamom is a part of the literature since the start of civilization and it is still prevalent to us today even more so. It may come across crazy that I feel deeply connected to a spice, but I don’t think I can live without it. I wouldn’t feel whole, I wouldn’t feel I am justifying who I am, where I come from. Seeing it in the kitchen is an identity for me. It is the hero of our tea and I have grown up on this spice my whole life. Cardamom is a conversation starter that can lead into the history of who I am, as a Kurd and the rest of the Middle East. That is important to me.
We use it in everything and it is probably medicinal to me at this point, but for most to only understand it through the limited sweet recipes this side of the pond pains me. It is a beautiful spice, even more gorgeous in smell and flavor. It is best bought as a pod, in my opinion, so that you maximize on its freshness before it’s ground. Be warned it is an annoying process, because you should be de-podding every single one to avoid stringy lumps, so if you’re going to cry about this then best stick to the pre-ground bottles and still enjoy.
Buying whole spices here seems like I’m speaking a different language, because it isn’t a household practice. This isn’t strange though, since it isn’t a spice cultivating market. Making things easier are also a way of new life here and a simplified approach. It’s necessary at times, but rituals such as grinding your own spices remind me why we take much care in utilizing spices in our culture and cuisine. They symbolize a lot for us, not just because we cultivate some of them. They fill our homes with aroma, they flavor our food to other levels and sometimes finish them, they are medicinal and organic. It isn’t just salt and pepper to taste for us, it is whether you used the right spices for this dish and enough of certain ones. We have created spice blends important to our heritage, and identifying for our cuisine. Without them we wouldn’t be who we are today. It would be a bland place.
Back home buying your spices whole for the most part is a religion. My dad, to this day, still gets requests from my mum on spices he needs to be bringing back from home, and cardamom and cumin are always on that list. It is also an art in how to pick at the souk and that is a story I best save for next time. Whole cardamom and cumin are two of the least messiest spices to travel back with. I think it is mostly the flatness in taste when buying them here in the States that my family finds unsettling. It just isn’t the same. We can all say that about something that comes from home. Products that are shipped products and sitting on shelves for months are just not as fresh as where they come from, even if it still does taste good. Trust me it will taste remarkably life changing when you’re trying it from its origin.
I have slightly ignored pistachio for the latter part of this story, but it has less struggle than the cardamom pod. This recipe settled my internal debate that these two ingredients would distort one another, in turn putting this non-coffee-but-coffee-cake at the top for me. I would make this over and over again. It carries flavors that speak to me of my childhood and growing up in souks accompanying my parents to pick out spices and nuts. Thankful I was raised in some part of the Middle East to associate and understand our rituals directly and where we come from, even if it wasn’t in Kurdistan. Just make sure you are always enjoying cakes like this with a cup of coffee or tea. Not only to wash it down, but it finishes everything off perfectly.