Uzbekistan. Not somewhere many would think of for a holiday. But lying on the Silk Road in the heart of Central Asia, Uzbekistan has seen waves of conquerors, nomads and traders come and go, all leaving behind a fascinating cultural and architectural legacy. Each city, with evocative place names such as Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva, is as famous for its own traditional handicrafts, as it is for a different type of bread and plov.
Uzbek food has an unfortunate reputation but if you’re prepared for it to be repetitive, it’s not as bad as some cuisines. After hearing stories of bad experiences, I had no expectations and prepared our group for the worst. I even packed super-noodles, Ritz biscuits and tabasco in case of emergencies. But everyone was pleasantly surprised. It’s a very communal experience, with diners sharing plates filled with seasonal vegetables followed by a soup and then something meaty: plov, shashlik kebabs or the chef’s speciality. In one local house we ate ravioli filled with a beaten egg – not as strange as it sounds and something that take two pairs of hands to make. So yes – every meal is a variant on this same theme but in a whole week we didn’t touch my supplies.
Plov is the national dish of Uzbekistan and should definitely be tried at least once… It’s the staple dish and there are as many recipes as there are people making it. Whilst the name isn’t particularly inspiring, Tashkent has rewarded the dish with the National Plov Centre. Clearly Uzbeks take plov very seriously. There are even folk parables and legends about the healing and nourishing qualities of plov. Uzbeks believe that the very name for plov - "osh-polov" contain the first letters of the names of the dish basic ingredients: onion, carrot, meat, oil, salt, water and rice. As with the bread, each town, and even home, has its own recipe and a varying range of spices and accompaniments that go in it. In a local home in Bukhara we ate it with quince, raisins and quails eggs. The Samarkand plov was too fatty for my tastes but in Khiva it tasted fresh and full of flavours. The National Plov Centre cooks it on a vast scale – five huge deep pans filled with a mountain of raw ingredients ready to be cooked when locals turn up on their lunch break.
Traditional Uzbek bread, non, is round and flat, with a decorated depression in the middle. A metal stamp is used to decorate the centre, with the design dependent on the baker’s preference. It’s served with every meal and diners tear off chunks as they go. Each region has its own variety of which locals are very proud.
In Tashkent, we ate bread with walnuts on; in Samarkand, it was much lighter and glazed with caraway seeds on. In Bukhara it tasted completely different: much drier and this time with sesame seeds; and Khiva much thinner and less taste. Legend has it that whenever Tamerlane, the 14th-century emir of the region, travelled he ordered that his armies bring bread only from Samarkand, his capital. When Tamerlane questioned his baker as to why that bread was so much better, he said the Samarkand air was fresher.
Tashkent
Plov rating: 4/5
Bread rating: 4/5
Samarkand
Plov rating: 2/5
Bread rating: 5/5
Bukhara
Plov rating: 5/5
Bread rating: 4/5
Khiva
Plov rating: 4/5
Bread rating: 2/5
Uzbekistan isn’t a culinary destination, nor is it renowned for its accommodation, but it shouldn’t put anyone off travelling there as the historic sites that can be seen on any holiday certainly more than compensate.
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