…not to be confused with Dinner at Eight, my favorite Rufus Wainwright song. You should listen to it. Right now. Before you go any further. Go on; I’ll wait here.
Great! Now, about this dinner. Contrary to popular belief, it’s not every day that I eat seven course dinners. And it’s not every day you meet someone so talented in the kitchen that it makes you want to go play in traffic for the shame of it all. Last night, those two things collided quite amazingly when we had dinner at Shannon‘s house.
Our gracious hostess, describing the process by which she debrines Bulgarian feta cheese.
Shannon, one of the newer (and younger!) Houston Chowhound members and a recent transplant from St. Louis, kindly issued an invitation a few weeks ago for a dinner at her home. We should have known what to expect when we received an elegantly printed menu in our email inboxes a few days prior to dinner: seven courses, all of which sounded magnificent and none of which were anything like you’d typically find in a restaurant, much less in someone’s home.
When we showed up yesterday evening — myself, Ruthie, Jenny, Joanne, Robert and his wife — we were all greeted by the intoxicating scent of freshly-baked brioche and another, less familiar aroma. I soon discovered it was the first course: Ash-e Reshteh, Iranian bean and noodle soup.
The soup was an immense hit right off the bat. None of us had ever had Iranian bean soup before. Except, of course, Shannon’s husband, who is Iranian and who serves as a huge inspiration for her cuisine. The soup — which normally has ground beef and is cooked with beef broth — was a vegetarian version of the traditional Iranian recipe made with kidney and garbanzo beans, which made it both immensely healthy and hearty. The copious amounts of dill and parsley managed to keep it from being too heavy, though, and lent a refreshing crispness to the soup.