In this episode, we explore what it means to truly honor something or someone—the perfect backdrop for Memorial Day as we cook up a recipe with a time-honored ingredient that brings new meaning to a backyard barbecue.
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Feed Your Fire Podcast Episode Transcript:
Hello, and welcome to Feed Your Fire. I'm your host, Kim Baker. Have you ever heard someone say something that hits you in such a way that it just stops you in your tracks?
Today's episode was inspired by a simple phrase, and that is that it's an honor to love someone. And that sentence has been rolling around in my head since I heard it. And so I thought today we could spend some time talking about the idea of honor, what that means to us, and how we express it.
And we're going to have this conversation over a meal with a time-honored ingredient, setting the stage for a delicious and memorable Memorial Day weekend.
The word honor has kind of an old-fashioned sensibility to it, which is not really surprising because it's an ancient concept that's evolved over the ages. The root word means dignity, esteem, respect. And over time, that morphed into an idea more akin to fame and recognition.And then later, it was associated with virtue and character. Living with honor requires ethics, accountability, and courage. As far as words go, it's a weighty one.
Just this past week, I was in New York visiting Josh and Corinne in the hospital. For those of you that have been following the podcast, you know that Josh has been battling glioblastoma with Corinne by his side. And it's been over the last few weeks that the disease has really been showing its strength.
And it brought me back to moments when my brother and my mother were in a similar situation. And I was sharing with Josh's mom how those vulnerable moments have lived on in my life, and that I've come to know that there's beauty in the tragedy, that those moments of intimacy and care carve a deep-rooted connection. And as she was listening, she reflected back to me her interpretation, which was that it's an honor to love someone. It's such a profound and yet simple idea, and I've been thinking about it ever since.
We've talked about love on this podcast before as an action or a feeling, but in this scenario, it's a privilege. It's both a gift that we receive and a tribute to the other person. And even in the most unsightly and undignified corners of the human experience, we can be a source of that person's honor, carrying it forward when they can't carry it themselves. It's a definition so rich, it's humbling.
As I was looking for culinary inspiration for today's recipe, I found it in a time-honored ingredient: three threads from the center of a flower that are painstakingly cultivated by hand, a spice that predates the word honor, originating in ancient Persia, that's known cross-culturally and in nearly every language as saffron.
For thousands of years, it's survived, becoming a culinary staple from Spain to India. It's used as a dye, and its color is revered by some as sacred. And it has a broad span of unique medicinal qualities. Yet, it takes 150 flowers to harvest a gram of saffron. And the three threads that exist in each plant have to be harvested with a tweezer within a few weeks when the flowers are open. But it's that precious and prized that it's worth the effort.
Recognizing the miracle of this very spice's existence is a practice of honor. And we're going to use it in a recipe today that has long-standing cultural legacies. And we're going to combine it with our contemporary practice of a Memorial Day barbecue. We are making a Persian-style kebab, or shall I say, kebab, that uses saffron as a core component of its flavoring.
The first thing we're going to do is bloom our saffron. You're going to warm about an ounce of water to about 100 degrees, and add in a small pinch of saffron threads.
Let it sit for about 15 minutes. As the oils are extracted, you'll see the color of that water turn a beautiful amber.
In a medium bowl, I want you to combine about a half a cup of Greek yogurt, half of an onion in thick slices, one to two cloves of garlic, finely chopped, the juice of one lemon, about a half a teaspoon of turmeric, a tablespoon of tomato paste, and the water and threads from that beautifully bloomed saffron. Mix that all up and set it aside.
For this recipe, I like to use chicken thighs, but you can certainly use chicken breasts or tenderloins. You'll want to cut them into sort of chunks, and then place them in that marinade, toss it up, and let it sit for at least a few hours, preferably overnight, in the refrigerator.
And then before we're ready to cook it, we're going to skewer the chicken. Metal skewers will work best because they conduct heat, but a bamboo wood skewer is also fine. Just make sure you soak them in water thoroughly before using them so they don't burn. Then you'll want to add your chicken pieces onto the skewer, and I like to include some of those onion slices that were in the marinade. Two pounds of chicken should get you about six skewers.
Then get your grill flaming hot. The very idea of a kebab is meat cooked over direct flame. You'll notice I didn't add any vegetables here, but if you want to add them, go right ahead. Once the chicken is cooked through, you can take it off the grill, and you will be backyard barbecue ready. And at the same time, you'll have tapped into an honored culinary tradition.
One of the things that I found so inspiring about saffron is that the plant that it comes from, the Crocus sativus, cannot exist in the wild. It's infertile. It requires human intervention for its survival. And yet, it's been cultivated for literally thousands of years despite that very significant obstacle, it's so culturally significant and revered that it has endured commanding the highest price of any spice. And so this serves a bit as an analog, an example of our interdependency and the privilege of it.
In my research for this episode, I came across an article that described honor as a lost value, describing what was once integral to social standing as being replaced by optics and image. And certainly, there are areas of our culture where honor has been frayed. But at least in my experience, love is not one of them. And the meaning of the word honor has evolved since its very origin. Its association with core parts of our identity and the fabric of our social structure make it a dynamic construct. But that evolution is not a sign of disintegration. As long as there is love, there will be honor. And I'm grateful to have been a witness to that this past week.
And as we head out to celebrate our holiday weekend, we can not only enjoy this meal together, but take inspiration from its symbolism. Paying tribute to the threads that connect us, the privilege of this very moment, and the honor that lives on.
Until our next episode, I say so long. Feed Your Fire, where food nourishes growth.