Properly cooked plov: rice grains separate from each other, not mushy
For the longest time, my plov would always turn out too sticky and mushy, and I didn’t know why. I assumed it was because I didn’t have the special rice used in Uzbekistan. Occasionally, my plov would magically turn out perfect, but I wasn’t able to replicate it. Recipes online had all sorts of conflicting information, from soaking the rice, to not soaking the rice, to adding 2cm of water on top of the rice, to adding no water at all. I experimented with all sorts of things and in the end usually just ended up with a pot of sticky rice.
But now, after two years of making plov, I have finally figured out what causes it, and how to make perfect plov every time.
Overly sticky plov is caused by cooking the rice with too much water. To make perfect plov, figure out the exact water to rice ratio required by the rice you use.
It’s as simple as that. All of that water you add to the pot needs to be absorbed by the rice or evaporated. Most of it will be absorbed. If you add too much water, the rice absorbs too much, and it becomes sticky and mushy.
Ironically, most plov recipes seem to be rather vague about how much water is needed, usually suggesting you add 1-2cm of water on top of the rice. Adding that much water is most likely going to lead to mushy rice. In fact, when you watch videos of professional plov makers, it usually looks like they are pushing around a big layer of dry rice on top (it is cooked by steam).
Further complicating things is the issue of whether the rice should be soaked or not. Some claim that this can remove more starch and make the rice less sticky. After going through a long period of soaking the rice, I have decided it is best not to soak the rice. Your rice is going to absorb some amount of water depending on how long it soaks, how absorbent the rice is, and ambient conditions. If it absorbs more, you need to add less water later, and vice versa. Since it’s difficult to know how much the rice absorbs, this adds a layer of uncertainty. It is very easy to add too much water, ending up in a ruined, overly sticky plov. If you do not soak, you can control exactly how much water goes into your rice. You can achieve a perfect plov texture without any soaking. It’s best just to avoid this potentially plov-ruining step.
Step by step, here is how to ensure the right water amount. 1. Determine the correct water to rice ratio. The ratio is of weight, not of volume. To figure this out, you can weigh a small amount of uncooked rice, then cook it to the ideal texture and weigh the cooked rice. The difference of weight, divided by the weight of the uncooked rice, will tell you the water to rice ratio. Here is a page from Stalic Khankishiev where he tries this on several different rice variants. I calculated the ratios for some common ones below: Paella rice (calasparra and bomba): 1.4:1 Basmati rice: 1.65:1 Risotto rice (arborio): 1.1:1 Importantly, these are only guidelines, and the ratio may vary even for different brands of the same type of rice. You may find you need more or less water for your specific rice.
2. Do not soak your rice. As stated above, this introduces uncertainty because we don’t know how much gets soaked up. You could, in theory, weigh the soaked rice, figure out a ratio, then soak your rice in the exact same way each time, but I just don’t see the point. Plov tastes perfectly good without soaking.
3. Measure exactly the right amount of water, and add all of the water in the broth stage. Eyeballing the ratio is not going to work reliably. I eyeball basically everything in cooking, but this is the one thing I do not.
4. Do not add any extra water during the rice cooking stage. Only add water if your rice is too hard (literally can’t chew through it) and there is no water left in the pot. By not soaking and not adding any additional water later, we have controlled the maximum amount of water our rice can absorb.
Oftentimes, when you taste the rice after the water is absorbed, it still tastes very crunchy and uncooked. It is very tempting to add more water and cook it a bit longer but this is a no-no; I have ruined many perfectly good pots of plov this way. As long as the rice looks done (has reached its correct size), then all you need to do is steam it and you will have perfectly cooked rice.
The water to rice ratio is the number one determinant in whether the plov will be sticky/mushy or not. But here are a few other things to consider:
Pick a rice type and stick with it – Some variants of rice are more prone to stickiness than others. East Asian rice is simply unworkable no matter how careful you are with water ratios, as it is naturally sticky and starchy. Risotto rice tends to be sticky. Basmati rice tends to be un-sticky, but isn’t really the correct shape or texture. I have been happiest with paella rice. The important thing is to pick one type of rice, learn exactly how to cook it, and stick with it. When you switch rice types, you are apt to screw up the plov.
Wash the rice – Don’t soak the rice, but just before adding it in, you need to wash it – run the faucet over it, mix it around with your fingers, and pour out the cloudy water. Repeat until the water is nearly clear (you won’t get it perfectly clear). Then add directly into the broth. This gets the starch off the rice, helping it to be less sticky.
Rice steaming time is important too – It is slightly less important than the critical water:rice ratio, but still important for perfection.
The amount of time you steam the rice is something of an art. Too little, and the rice is undercooked. Too much, and even if you got the right water:rice ratio, the rice can be overcooked and stick together. Guidelines: if your rice is nearly done before steaming, steam 20 minutes. If your rice is still very crunchy, steam 30 minutes.
I first ate plov (плов) in a small canteen in Turpan, an oasis city in the deserts northeast of the Tarim Basin. Uyghurs call it “polo”, and restaurants in Xinjiang make it in gigantic kazans outside, dishing it out as ordered and topping it with a hunk of fatty lamb meat. It was one of my first tastes of Central Asian cuisine, and incidentally the first dish I started cooking with. I’ve learned a lot about making plov since my first post on it over a year ago; this is a complete re-do of the old recipe with new photos.
Plov could be considered a pan-Asian dish; whether Uzbek plov, Uyghur polo, Indian pulao, Afghan palaw, Iranian polow, or Turkish pilaf, the basic idea is the same: rice and oil. The recipe I present here is for Uzbek plov (specifically, Fergana style), which tastes very similar to Uyghur polo, and is the most common type of plov in restaurants outside of Central Asia. Uzbekistan is the spiritual “homeland” of plov with many different regional varieties.
How should plov taste? In the ideal Uzbek plov, the rice grains should be separate, maintain their form, and not stick together. The rice should be tender, yet firm: a good plov is not mushy and sticky like porridge, nor is it creamy like a risotto. The closest equivalent in European cuisine is probably paella.
Plov should be rather oily, and after eating there should be a layer of oil left on the plate. The meat for plov should be tender lamb meat. The carrots should be in big chunks, soft and sweet, having been caramelized during the cooking. Overall, the plov should have a nice balance of tastes between savory/lamb meat, salty, oily, cumin, and sweet (onion & carrot).
Cooking utensils It is best to make plov in a kazan. In the past, I made plov in a cast iron wok (and you can see this in many of the photos), but your plov will turn out much better in a kazan. It’s very easy to mess up plov, especially if you use the wrong cooking vessel. Read this post to learn what kazans are and where you can buy one.
Making plov is a journey that will probably require many, many tries and many soggy, mushy, burnt, or not-cooked-enough plovs. I have been making it for over two years and every time I make it, I still find some way to hone my technique.
There are many plov video recipes on the net, but the most simple, straightforward one I have found is this one (in Russian).
IMPORTANT! Unlike most of my other recipes, the proportions (critically, that of water to rice) are extremely important in plov. Incorrect proportions can ruin the dish. This recipe serves 5-6 people.
0.5 kg rice: The choice of rice has a huge effect on the finished product, as much so as your cooking. I recommend paella rice, specifically Spanish calasparra rice as it is the most similar in size, shape, and texture to the rice used in Uzbekistan. Risotto rice can also work, but tends to be too sticky. Basmati will work, but it isn’t at all like Uzbek rice. East Asian rice will not work because it is too sticky.
In plov, it’s very important that the cooked rice grains stay separate and not a sticky mush. The Russian term for this desired consistency is “рассыпчатый.”For this reason, it’s basically impossible to obtain a good result with East Asian rice, which by design is supposed to stick together.
Basmati is often used to make plov outside Central Asia, but in texture and shape it is really quite different from the rice in Uzbek plov. On the plus side, it tends not to stick together, making it a good choice for a beginning cook. But look at the difference in these two pictures.
As a last resort, I have heard of people using parboiled (Uncle Ben’s) rice. I’ve never tried it, but I’ve heard it’s a foolproof way of ensuring the rice doesn’t get mushy.
So to summarize, here are my criteria for correctly cooked plov rice:
1) Uses medium grain rice, not basmati, not parboiled
2) Rice grains “al dente”, a bit of chew
3) Rice grains not mushy/sticky/creamy; grains should be individually defined and separate easily when you fluff or toss the rice.
Rice to water ratio: This is really important in making plov with the correct texture, and for whatever reason seems to be completely overlooked in almost all recipes. I am all for eyeballing things but this is the one time you need to be crazy precise in measuring, unless you want a pot full of soggy mush. The correct ratio is different depending on what rice you use and if you soak it or not. I do not soak rice as it introduces too much uncertainty (how much water did the rice soak up) potentially leading to mushy rice, and does not noticeably improve the final outcome. On Stalic’s website, he has an article where he takes different amounts of rice, then soaks them, then cooks them. To get the correct ratio, take the weight of the fully cooked rice, subtract the weight of the uncooked rice, then divide that number by the weight of the uncooked rice. Paella rice (calasparra and bomba): 1.4:1 Basmati rice: 1.65:1 Risotto rice (arborio): 1.1:1
0.5kg lamb meat – I have used lamb shoulder chops and lamb leg, all work fine for plov. 700 mL of boiling water – For calasparra rice, you need 1.4x water (in weight) to rice, otherwise follow the ratios listed above. THIS RATIO IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT! 2 medium onions 3 large carrots Cumin seed – You need the whole seeds – cumin powder is a poor substitute. Grind a few good spoonfuls of cumin seed with a mortar and pestle – it doesn’t need to be a powder, just lightly ground is fine. 2 garlic heads
Dried chilies or fresh chili peppers – not that many, maybe 5-6 small ones or 1-3 big ones. Can be omitted. Salt Vegetable oil and/or lamb tail fat
Barberries or raisins (optional) – barberries can add some nice acidity to the dish. I typically don’t like raisins in plov (too sweet), but some do.
Directions (takes about 3 hours start to finish)
1. Cut the onions into slices (half moons).
2. Cut the carrots into big sticks. You want fairly big pieces, maybe ~2 inches long and 1/4 inch thick. While it may seem like a lot of carrots, keep in mind they will shrink dramatically during cooking. Generally err on the side of too much carrot. I don’t think I’ve ever had a plov with too much carrot, but I’ve certainly noticed when there is too little.
3. Debone and cut up the lamb meat. Cut out the fat and bones, and keep aside. Chop the lamb meat into medium sized pieces.
4. Heat up the kazan and heat the oil. Put the kazan on high heat. Once the kazan is hot, add vegetable oil to cover the bottom in a fairly deep layer, and wait a bit until the oil heats up.
If you are lucky enough to have lamb tail fat (курдючный жир, kurdyuchniy zhir) then instead of oil, you can cut the fat into slices and melt them into oil. The resulting fat crisps make a tasty snack. Remove the crisps. Lamb tail fat is a luxurious rarity for me here in NYC, so I usually melt the fat pieces into oil, then add vegetable oil. I buy it at the Fortuna grocery in Brooklyn.
5. Prepare the oil. If you are using vegetable oil, take a small onion, remove the skin, and fry it in the oil, letting it cook on all sides until the whole thing is brown, then remove the onion and discard it. While vegetable oil in small amounts lacks any discernible taste, the amount we are using means you are going to notice its flavor. Vegetable oil has a weird taste to it, and putting the onion in helps absorb the weird flavors and replace them with onion-y flavors. If you really can’t bear to use up the extra onion, you can skip this step, but your plov might taste off.
6. Fry the fat and bones and meaty bone pieces. Fry these pieces until they get to a nice golden-brown and you smell the aroma of lamb fat. Then remove them and keep the meat and bones aside (you can discard the fat pieces). This will help to further flavor our oil.
7. Fry the meat. Fry until it develops a nice golden brown around the edges, then remove it and set aside so it doesn’t overcook during the next steps.
8. Fry the onions until they are a light brown color. They don’t need to be fully caramelized, just a little brown around the edges is fine.
9. Put in the carrots and add about 3/4 of the prepared cumin seed. Fry for 15 minutes until the carrots are soft. Cook them as long as you need to until you can easily pierce them with a fork. Then add the meat back in and fry everything together for a minute or so.
10. Make the broth. Take the boiling water (700mL to 0.5kg of rice, or 1.4x the weight of the rice) and pour it over everything. Put the bones back in. Put in the garlic heads and the chilies. Add raisins and/or barberries if you are using them. When the water boils, turn it to low heat, and let it simmer for at least 40 minutes to 1 hour, uncovered. This broth is called “zirvak.”
11. Remove the bones, garlic, and chilies, and salt the broth. If any of your bone pieces have a good amount of meat on them, save them for later. Keep the garlic and chilies aside. Salt the broth and taste – it should be very salty. Remember, you are going to add rice in, which will absorb the broth.
12. Wash the rice and add it in. First, wash the rice, mixing it around with your fingers then pouring out the cloudy water. Do this a few times until you get the water fairly clear. Then carefully add the rice in a layer on top of the other ingredients. DO NOT MIX THE RICE IN WITH THE OTHER INGREDIENTS – IT NEEDS TO BE IN A LAYER ON TOP. Carefully smooth out the rice into an even layer.
All of the water we see in the pot needs to be absorbed by the rice (some will evaporate, but the majority will go into the rice). This is why the measurement in the last stage is so critical. If we added too much water, the rice will be forced to absorb too much, and become soggy and mushy.
This is the stage at which most plov recipes incorrectly tell you to add water and is the culprit of so many soggy and overly cooked plov. If you measured the water correctly in the previous step you do not need to add any additional water. In fact, if you watch videos of professional plov makers, they never add any additional water, and the rice sits “dry” on top of everything.
13. Cook the rice. Turn the heat as high as possible. There should be big bubbles bursting all over the top of the rice. Rake the rice back and forth, slowly flipping the top layer to the bottom so that all the rice can get cooked evenly.
14. Let the water boil off. As the water boils, it should drop below the top of the rice. We want the water to be completely gone.
At this point, the rice should have absorbed the water, but not be “done.” In other words, the rice should have grown to its full size and “look” done, but it should still be crunchy and undercooked when you bite into it. If you can chew through the rice, do NOT add more water! I have ruined many perfectly good pots of plov thinking that the rice needed more water. It does not. Steaming will take care of it.
However, it should not be so hard that you cannot chew through it. If the rice is too hard to chew through, add a tiny bit more water as necessary and cook until you can chew through it. Otherwise, turn the heat down to medium and let the rest of the water boil off.
As the water drops, make holes in the rice to help the water escape more quickly. Check the holes and the sides of the kazan for any water remaining – keep in mind oil will always be at the bottom, don’t overcook your rice thinking it’s water and trying to boil it off. When the water is gone, turn the heat back down to minimum.
15. Steam the rice. Make a small “hill” of rice, and top with the rest of the cumin. Push the garlics and chilies and any hunks of meat on the bone into the top of the rice layer. Make some holes in the mountain to help the steam circulate. Cover the kazan. Make sure that the cover is tight and no steam at all escapes – wrap the lid with towels for a tighter seal and weigh it down with something (I use a bowl). After a minute or so, the cover should be hot to the touch. This final steaming stage is going to turn our plov rice from “crunchy” to “done.”
After the cover is hot, turn the heat down to low, and let this steam. The exact time is something of an art, and depends on how done the rice was in the previous stage, and the type of rice you use. If the rice tasted very crunchy and un-done, let it steam for longer: 30 minutes. If the rice tasted almost done, then steam it for less: 20 minutes.
16. Finished! Take off the lid, and remove the garlic and chilies and bone pieces. If the rice is still undercooked, then you can steam it for longer (re-cover it, heat up to medium until the pot is hot again, then turn down to low heat again). It might only be the top layer that is undercooked, in which case just mix it well and steam until the rice is done.
Scoop up the rice and gently shake it back into the pot, to help the rice grains separate from each other. Carefully mix the meat and carrots on bottom with the rice, being careful not to mush the rice together. Plate the finished plov and garnish with the garlic and chilies and meaty bone pieces.
Serving: Plov is often served with a salad of sliced tomatoes and onions called “achik chuchuk.” Just mix sliced tomatoes and onions with salt and a dash of pepper. Sliced cucumber and hot pepper is often added as well, and I like putting in a splash of white vinegar. You can add some greens like mint or cilantro or dill if you like. Traditionally, people drink hot green tea with plov (and in general any greasy dish).
Rice became a sticky mush / overcooked – This happens if you use too much water and unfortunately by the time you realize it, the rice is pretty much ruined. It’s critical to err on using too little water, and add as needed.
Rice unevenly cooked after steaming / rice on top too hard, rice on bottom too soft
This happens if the cover is not tight (steam escaped), or you are using a wok or regular pot instead of a kazan (because the thin-walled wok is poor at retaining heat and keeping the top warm where the rice is). In this case, you can flip the rice on top onto the bottom, mix everything up, then steam it for a bit longer.
Tasteless/not salty enough – Besides the obvious culprit of not salting the broth enough, this can happen if you don’t brown the onions enough.
Rice burns at bottom – this happens if you aren’t careful about keeping the rice in a layer at the top.
Meat burns at bottom – Usually happens if you cook the rice for too long during the final steps when all the water is gone. It is also very easy for the food on the bottom to burn if you use a wok or a flat-bottomed pan to cook plov instead of a kazan.
I’ve returned from a 2-week trip to Central Asia! I spent a week in Uzbekistan and a week in Kyrgyzstan, eating some of the foods I write about on this blog. Prior to this trip, it had been 8 years since I was last in Central Asia (in Xinjiang) so it was good to eat some old favorites and try some new foods.
Uzbekistan is the motherland of plov and it did not disappoint in this regard! I ate plov in every city I visited – Khiva, Samarkand, Bukhara. Each region has its own plov variety, which I found really interesting as there is basically only one variant of plov(or “polo”) in Xinjiang. The Uzbek plov was generally oilier than mine, and their rice grain is different. I had been using basmati, but in Uzbekistan they use a thicker, rounder grain of rice, almost like risotto or Japanese sushi rice. Here’s my plov recipe.
Plov in Bukhara.
Plov in Samarkand. Note the chickpeas and how all the elements (rice, carrots, meat) are separate.
Plov in Khiva. Note how the rice is all white.
Finally, to eat laghman made by someone other than myself! While Indian biryani or even Turkish pilaf has some resemblance to plov, there’s basically nothing like laghman to be found in the West. I keep cooking and cooking laghman at home, and after 8 years away from Central Asia, sometimes began to wonder if anyone else on earth eats this dish. Here is my Uyghur lagman recipe.
Uyghur-style laghman at Chinar restaurant in Bukhara
Kovurma laghman at Besh Chinor restaurant in Samarkand
The traditional Uzbek lagman is more like a noodle soup with all sorts of vegetables and potatoes in it. It’s often flavored with dill. However, they do have other varieties of lagman like “kovurma lagman”, which resembles the Uyghur version (noodles with a sauce on top), and many restaurants sell Uyghur-style laghman as well. I personally much prefer my laghman with a sauce topping rather than in a soup.
Guiru laghman at an Uyghur restaurant in Osh.
Guiru laghman in Bishkek.
I was pleasantly surprised by the food in Kyrgyzstan, at least in the cities. While the traditional Kyrgyz food might not be that exciting, due to their location in between Uzbekistan and China they have some great restaurants serving Uzbek, Uyghur, and Dungan cuisine. The laghman was great, and actually surprisingly similar to the one I cook at home. Of course, since my own recipe comes from an Uyghur chef from Bishkek, perhaps it’s not so surprising.
A staple of our travels! This is one dish I rarely make at home because it’s just so time consuming; plus it’s easy to just buy frozen dumplings from the Chinese grocery even if they aren’t the same thing. But Central Asian manti are really quite special, especially with some yogurt sauce. Chuchvara soup is even more time consuming; I admit I’ve only done it myself once because it takes so long to fold all those tiny dumplings. Here is my manti recipe.
In Kyrgyzstan I ate a dish called “kuurdak” which is very similar to “kazan kebab”(I haven’t posted the recipe yet). Basically roasted meat with potatoes. It’s rather oily, but very tasty.
Kuurdak at an Uyghur restaurant in Osh.
I also ate plenty of shashlik/kebabs in Uzbekistan. Here’s a meal from a rest stop in the middle of the Kyzyl Kum desert on the road from Khiva to Bukhara. For being in the middle of a desert, they had surprisingly good food.
Shashlik lunch at a rest stop in the Kyzyl Kum desert
Shashlik at Besh Chinor restaurant in Samarkand
On the left, “hasip”, a type of Uzbek sausage; on the right, “naryn”, cold noodles with horse meat. At “Miliy taomlar”(National foods) in Tashkent.
In Uzbekistan they generally make a big, puffy, round sort of bread as opposed to the flat disc-shaped bread you see in Xinjiang. I bought myself some Uzbek bread stamps in Samarkand – a cooking tool almost impossible to find in the West, though you can order one at quite some cost from China – details in my nan bread recipe. I found them in the Siyob bazaar in Samarkand, sold for 10,000 som each (around $2.50 USD). Not really a common tourist souvenir so may be hard to find outside of a bazaar, although I remember seeing them being sold in Khiva as well.
Beautiful bread bought from Samarkand’s Siyob bazaar.
In Kyrgyzstan, they served a type of bread called “boor sok.” It’s little pockets of frybread, not unlike sopapillas. Very tasty. I’ll have to try making them at home.
At every meal, some type of salad was served, usually with the bread. Typically a simple salad from tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions, and a pinch of salt, but sometimes flavored with some fresh herbs too. You can see the little salad in most of the pictures above.
Ashlyanfu at Arzu restaurant in Bishkek
I also got to try “Ashlyanfu”, which comes from Dungans (Chinese Central Asians). It’s a cold noodle soup with wheat noodles and mung bean jelly noodles. Sounds strange, but very good. I’ve yet to try making this one at home, maybe because it seems rather labor intensive (making the jelly noodles). In mainland China, they eat something similar called “liang pi”; I eat it sometimes at the Chinese places near my home.
Naturally, green tea was served at every meal. Unlike in Xinjiang where people “wash” the tea bowls with some hot tea and then throw it out, in Uzbekistan they pour some tea into a bowl and then pour it back into the pot, sometimes multiple times. I picked up my own Uzbek teapot and tea bowls. They were selling all sorts of fancy elaborate porcelain in the tourist shops, but I really just wanted the same exact blue and white teapot that appears in almost every restaurant in Uzbekistan (it makes an appearance in a few of the pictures above). Luckily I found them in Siyob bazaar in Samarkand for cheap – a teapot and four bowls was around 25,000 som or $6 USD.
Hope you enjoyed the photos – I’ll try to get back to posting recipes soon.