Grandmothers and Green Beans
Everyone has a story about when they started cooking. Mine
started when I was three years old. My grandparents would travel
around and stay with their kids and help them raise the next
generation. When they would come to our house, one of my
favorite things to do was to sit in the kitchen and try to help my
grandmother, but since I was so young, the answer was always
no.
Finally, one day, she said yes. She was making Loobia Polo, which
is a rice dish with meat, tomato, and green beans. I asked her if I
could help, and she took me over to a table and gave me a bag of
green beans. She showed me how to snap the ends off, and told
me to start while she did other parts of the preparation. She cut
the meat and onions, sautéed them, worked in the tomato, and
parboiled the rice, all while I did some of the beans. Eventually,
she came to help me finish. I watched her cut and sauté the
green beans and get everything into the pot to finish cooking.
When we ate dinner, she made a point to say that I helped her,
which I remember made me very happy. I always asked to help
her, and depending on the dish, the answer varied. But every
time she made Loobia Polo, there was a bag of green beans
waiting.
After a few times, I asked her if I could help her cut the beans.
She got me a butter knife, and I helped her cut the beans. In
reality, I probably cut 5 beans at a very slow pace, while she cut
the rest of the bag, but it made me really happy. Over time, she
let me cut more and more things and gave me better and better
knives, and eventually, I'd help her with lots of things for many
dishes. She is the one who taught me how to and helped me love
cooking. I always looked forward to her visits and always looked
forward to cooking with her.
Chef Aarash Zarrabi,
Sous Chef,
International House
Berkeley, California
17
