Plov: Bukharan Rice Pilaf with Raisins and Almonds
June 25, 2018
A couple months ago, I read a fascinating article in the New York Times about the Jewish community in contemporary Bukhara. This ancient Silk Road city, located in what is today Uzbekistan, is home to one of the world’s oldest and formerly largest Jewish communities.
Depending on who you ask, Bukharan Jews are members of the Lost Tribes of Israel who were exiled from their homeland in the eighth century BCE, or else Jews who migrated east during the Babylonian conquest in the sixth century BCE. Bukharan Jews have their own language, Bukhori, which mixes Persian and Hebrew, with a smattering of Russian and Uzbek thrown in for good measure.
Bukhara’s Jewish population began its decline in the 1970s, when the Soviet Union relaxed its ban on Jewish emigration, and accelerated with Uzbekistan’s independence in the 1990s, due to fears of a nationalist backlash against minority groups. That never happened—today Uzbekistan is one of the relatively few places where Jews and Muslims live harmoniously as neighbors—but nonetheless Bukhara today has a Jewish population estimated at 100 to 150. Total population of Bukhara: 270,000. For comparison, there are a whopping 50,000 Jews of Bukharan descent in Queens, right here in NYC.
The Bukharan community also happens to be one I don’t know a great deal about, culinarily or otherwise—despite the presence of a vast community of Bukharan Jews here in the city. I hope to find time to trek out to Queens and do some foodie exploration soon, but for now I’m learning—and eating—from my own kitchen. A few weeks ago I cooked up a classic turnip dish, and today I bring you plov, the quintessential Uzbek dish, beloved by Jews and non-Jews alike.
Unlike in Persian-influenced cultures, where pilafs are made from fluffy long-grain rice, the signature pilafs in Uzbekistan feature short- or medium-grain rice (traditionally a pinkish variety called devzira or barakat is used), which comes out slightly chewy and sticky. As is typical of Bukharan cuisine, plov is sparsely seasoned, with few spices to distract from the flavors of the main ingredients.
This Bukharan pilaf traveled along the Silk Road from India, where it was known as pulav, to central Asia, where its name transformed to plov. Unlike in neighboring India and Persia, though, rice-growing areas in central Asia were limited, and as such rice tended to be reserved as a delicacy for special occasions. For Shabbat, there were special long-cooked versions known as oshi sabo.
While women do most of the cooking in traditional Uzbek homes, the honor of making plov goes to men. Generally served at the end of a meal and traditionally eaten with the fingers, plov was customarily cooked in a kazan, a seasoned oval cast-iron pot, over a large fire or in a clay oven. Plov is customarily the center of the Uzbek hospitality ritual, dastarkhan (literally “tablecloth”), and accompanied with hot green tea sipped from a piala (special cup). In Uzbek culture, it’s considered insulting to decline an invitation to eat plov.
There are seemingly infinite variations on plov, with different vegetables, legumes, meats, and seasonings; most contain carrots (generally yellow heirloom varieties, in Uzbekistan; turnips are sometimes subbed) and onions, but aside from that just about anything goes. It’s traditional to use rendered fat from sheep tails for sautéing, but these days vegetable oil is a common ingredient swap. For plov containing meat, lamb is the most widespread, although chicken and quail are also strong contenders, especially among Bukharan Jews. Other typical additions include chickpeas and dried fruits, such as raisins and apricots; quince and apple are generally giveaways of Jewish origin.
This is a simple vegetarian version of the Uzbek national dish, slightly adapted from Gil Marks’s version in Olive Trees and Honey. It’s aromatic and sweet—flavors of carrots, raisins, almonds, and orange zest predominate, with a savory snap provided courtesy of the sautéed onion. If you add the optional chickpeas, this plov works great as a parve and vegan main; with or without the addition of legumes, it’s a delicious and memorable side dish.
Bukharan Rice Pilaf with Raisins and Almonds (Plov)
2 cups short-grain rice, such as Valencia, Vialone, Carnaroli, or Arborio
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 pound carrots, julienned or coarsely grated
1 large onion, chopped
½ cup chopped or slivered almonds
½ cup raisins
2 tablespoons grated orange zest
½ teaspoon ground turmeric
3¾ cups vegetable stock
1 cup cooked chickpeas (optional)
1½ teaspoons salt
Soak the rice in cold water to cover for 15 minutes. Drain, and rinse under cold running water until the water runs clear.
In a large pot, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté until softened, about 10 minutes. Add the carrots and sauté 5 more minutes. Add the almonds, raisins, orange zest, and turmeric, and sauté for 3 minutes. Add the rice and sauté 2 additional minutes.
Add the stock and, if using, the chickpeas, increase the heat to medium-high, bring to a boil, and let boil for 1 minute. Add the salt, cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer until the rice is tender, about 20 minutes. Remove from heat and let stand, covered, for 10 minutes. Fluff with a fork. Serve warm.
Sources: Encyclopedia of Jewish Food (Gil Marks, 2010); “In Bukhara, 10,000 Jewish Graves but Just 150 Jews,” New York Times (Andrew Higgins, April 7, 2018); Olive Trees and Honey: A Treasury of Vegetarian Recipes from Jewish Communities around the World (Gil Marks, 2004)
Loved this history!
Thanks, so glad you enjoyed it!
Real uzbek plov is made with barrbery and not raisins. Raisins will make the plov too sweet . Burrberry gives it tangy bites.
I need to get my hands on some barberries one of these days…
All depends on where you live. I live in Australia and it took me 15 years to find the barberries. It was so hard
When you make it to Forest Hills – stop by any grocery store on 107th street – you will find them in abundance, along with yellow carrots , proffered for making plov