Andy Baraghani’s Vinegar Toasts: Plus Persian Pickles and More …
“I have more vinegars on my shelf than fats,” brags Andy Baraghani, “I use them in the obvious way — to make a vinaigrette — but also to bring acidity to caramelized vegetables, to balance a rich and fatty steak, to brighten a braise that has been simmering for hours.”
I’ve known Baraghani for years, and like many of his fans from his time as an editor and recipe developer at Bon Appétit magazine, I love his layers of thoughtfulness and the beauty he applies to all of the recipes he creates. And I admire his stance that everyone should make kuku sabzi, a Persian herb baked omelet, and a staple of his upbringing. Baraghani spent his formative kitchen years in the Bay Area, most importantly at Alice Waters’ Chez Panisse in Berkeley, home to seasonal California cuisine, before moving to New York City and cooking at Ignacio Mattos’ Estela, for a more contemporary metropolitan touch. His food has always been influenced by his heritage, and time in these kitchens, but his favorite vinegar-based recipe is truly an amalgam of Baraghani’s thought process — I introduce to you: VINEGAR TOASTS!
“I wouldn’t say there’s even an origin story, per se — before the vinegar, it started with the bread,” says Baraghani. It’s a simple recipe, but the details are important. First, he pan fries slices of hearty whole grain or sourdough bread, as opposed to just toasting them. It’s a technique he logged while working at Chez Panisse, where thick slices of brioche or whole wheat sourdough were often shallow-fried in a pull of olive oil. Then, taking inspiration from Spain’s pan con tomate, Baraghani rubs the just-fried bread with raw garlic for a fuller allium effect. He combines a mountain of chopped parsley with chives and seasons this with black pepper and red wine vinegar.“Maybe a splash of sherry, too,” suggests Baraghahni.. The whole mixture is seasoned with salt before it’s left to sit a while, allowing the herbs to soften a bit. This chimichurri-like concoction is poured over the aforementioned toast. “This is stupid good,” Baraghani tells me.
“Vinegar is quite assertive, and there’s a range to its strength, depending on the type,” Baraghani explains. “My food has always had a deep love for acidity.” He confesses to keeping at least six bottles of vinegar on hand at any time, sometimes more. “I love Forum — their chardonnay and cabernet; the chardonnay has a residual sweetness that I like.” He also fawns over Tart Perilla Vinegar, saying he “accidentally finished the whole bottle” by adding splashes to soda water.
Baraghani’s vinegar affection extends into pickling as well. For his “Anything Pickles” from his book, The Cook You Want to Be, “I go for unseasoned rice vinegar, as seasoned rice vinegar has salt and sugar. I want to be in control of my brines,” he says, explaining that he’s more drawn to salty tangy pickles than sweet, and quick pickling over long preservation methods. And let’s be honest, “they’re not really lasting more than a few weeks anyways,” he says.
His standard recipe for almost all vegetables begins with a diluted brine, usually 3:1 vinegar to water, with 2 tablespoons of salt and 2 teaspoons of sugar per quart.
Baraghani pickles vegetables of all sorts, but eggplant is a favorite and can take a few different paths in his kitchen. One involves which he has many different paths for. Two of his favorite ways are first, peeling and charring the eggplant and then adding them to a cold brine that’s based in apple cider vinegar, with dried herbs (tarragon, mint), nigella seeds and turmeric. The result is something smoky and well-spiced. In another technique, Baraghani cooks eggplant down in a lot of vinegar until it’s saucy and then adds chopped onions and carrots for a bit of texture. “It’s a creamy pickled eggplant sauce of sorts,” Baraghani says. “But still very much a pickle, with texture and lots of acid.”
He often calls on things he ate growing up for inspiration. Torshi, a general term Persian pickles, most commonly refers to torshi sheer (pickled garlic), which Baraghani describes as, “whole heads with skin on — [traditionally] you’re supposed to wait at least 7 years until the paper breaks down — the flesh becomes very dark deep crimson jam color, and the garlic spiciness goes away.” He likes to serve the pickled garlic alongside a Abgoosht, a lamb and chickpeas stew; “the pickled garlic cuts the richness of the lamb,” Barahani advises.
But, for me, it’s Baraghani’s Garlicky Hot Vinegar, a fiery condiment reminiscent of many East Asian hot sauces that has my heart. “My family didn’t have a palate for spicy food — I would seek it out once I was a teenager, encountering it in the East Bay at Thai restaurants, Filipino too”. Baraghani places chilies, garlic and ginger in a jar, before bringing vinegar, sugar and salt to a boil, then pouring the hot brine over the ingredients, letting it all steep like tea. The longer it sits, the stronger (and spicier) the vinegar!
When it comes to buying vinegar, Baraghani offers one piece of advice: “Spend more than you thought you would on vinegars. I promise it’ll make your vinaigrettes that much better.” Here at Vinegar Professor, we wholeheartedly agree.