Apricot Ma'amoul

There is a beautiful pastry shop in the bottom of one of the hotels in Damascus, I can't remember its name but somewhere near Sepky Park, that sells the most refined versions of Arab sweets. The tiniest baklava you've ever seen, cookies filled with date puree so light it was almost like custard, and the most elegant ma'amoul in a variety of seasonal flavors - plum, peach, apricot, fig. I was inspired by those to make my own apricot ma'amoul, though much more rustic and humbling in appearance.

But the flavor is there, tart, tangy. I miss good fresh apricots, the kind that would arrive in Damascus on trucks everyday, just picked, dripping the moment you bite into them. They are hard to find like that farther away from the Mediterranean (goal: move back closer to to the Med). So this time I used dried apricots, just re-hydrated and simmered in a bit of honey and cinnamon and allspice. I'm pretty sure Paul ate most of them, which has to be a good sign.


Apricot Ma'amoul
Ma'amoul molds, like the one pictured above, are available at Middle Eastern groceries or can be ordered online. Depending on the size and style of your mold, you may need more or less filling for the recipe (it depends on how thin you make the crust). Makes about 40 small size cookies.

crust:
1/2 cup solid shortening
8 tablespoons or 4 ounces butter
1 cup flour, all purpose
2 cups semolina
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon baking power
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon rose flower water and
1 teaspoon orange flower water
7 tablespoons water

filling:
1 cup chopped dried apricot (chop into small pieces)
4 tablespoons honey
1/4 teaspoon each cinnamon, allspice

1. Bring 2 cups of water to a boil, pour over apricots, let stand to soften while you prepare the crust.
2. Prepare crust: Melt the shortening and butter in the microwave in a large bowl. Add the flour, semolina, salt baking powder and sugar and stir to combine. Add the rose and orange flower waters and gradually add the water, stirring to make a crumbly dough. Put the dough in the fridge to rest while you make the filling.
2. Filling: Scoop out apricots and place them in a sauce pan with about 2 tablespoons of their water (reserve remainder of soaking water in case needed). Ad remaining filling ingredients in a saucepan and cook over low heat for 10-15 minutes, adding water as necessary, until the apricots are very soft and mashed together.
3. Preheat oven to 325 F. Flatten a tablespoon of the semolina dough in the palm of your hand. Add a small amount of filling. Fold up the semolina around the filling, adding a little more dough to enclose the ball. Roll into a ball and press into a mold, or simply place on a greased baking sheet and decorate the top with the tines of a fork.
4. Bake 12-15 minutes until solid but not darkened in color. Let cool, then shift powdered sugar over top.

Artichokes with Meat and Tahini Sauce

This is my quick and dirty version of a more classic stuffed artichoke dish. The traditional version takes artichoke bottoms and stuffs them with a rice, meat, and herb stuffing. The artichokes would then be layered in a dish, topped with broth or a bechamel type sauce and baked.


Pre-prepared artichoke bottoms are very common in the Middle East and readily available frozen in a Middle Eastern grocery. They are, in my opinion, the best way to enjoy artichokes, much meatier and richer than those stringy artichoke hearts. My simple version just involves sauteeing a bit of ground meat or lamb and tossing it on top of the artichokes with a tahini sauce and toasted pine nuts and herbs. You can eat it with a knife and fork, or if the artichokes are small enough, you can eat them with your hands. This dish makes for a great quick lunch, along with some good pita bread, or you could serve it as part of a larger mezze meal.




Artichokes with Meat and Tahini Sauce

8-10 prepared artichoke bottoms, frozen or fresh
1/2 lb ground lamb or beef
salt and fresh black pepper to taste
1/4 teaspoon each cumin, allspice
1/4 cup tahini
2 lemons
2 tablespoons thick yogurt (labne)
1/4 cup pine nuts, toasted
scallions or chives, diced

1. Place tahini in a bowl and add in a pinch of salt and the juice of 1 lemon. Stir to combine, the mixture will become very thick. Gradually add water to the tahini, stirring, until it is a thick but pourable consistency. Add in the yogurt. Taste to see if it needs more salt r lemon.
2. Bring a pot of water to boil with the juice of 1 lemon. Boil the artichokes until tender (just a few minutes for frozen, 15-20 minutes for fresh).
3. Meanwhile. Saute the ground meat in the pan with salt, pepper, cumin, and allspice until nicely browned.
4. Arrange the artichokes on a platter. Sprinkle the meat over top, trying to get the meat in the artichoke cups. Drizzle the tahini sauce over. Sprinkle the toasted pine nuts and scallions over top. Serve while still warm.

Chicken Tagine with Preserved Lemon and Olives

No one welcomes day light savings time more than me. The dark poorly lit pictures you see here, walking to and from work in the dark, it's time for them to be over. The lighting in our little kitchen is terrible, and in the winter the photos I can manage are less than inspiring. A breath of light and some Moroccan cooking are just what we need.



This is the most classic Moroccan dish I can think of- chicken with preserved lemons and green olives. It's cooked in a tagine with a bath of Moroccan spices, herbs, and onions. The chicken is slow cooked until it's tender and moist and a velvety lemon sauce is pureed until smooth. The preserved lemons are available in many stores, or you can make your own the classic way or the fast way.

Lemons and olives are a classic combination that you often find in Morocco and in Spain. Here, the lemon and olive aren't added until the end of cooking to preserve their bright flavor. The technique used here of grating an onion on a box grater is a very common one in the Middle East, and I rarely implement it in my recipes here. The truth is, it makes your eyes water like crazy and it's a big pain in the butt. But in recipes like this the slightly pureed slightly chunky texture of the onion makes for a perfect sauce. Don't skip the step of pureeing the sauce, it seems a bit fussy but it makes a big difference.


Chicken Tagine with Preserved Lemon and Olives
To make a quick version of preserved lemons do the following: trim offf the rind of two lemons (use flesh for juice or simply discard). Dice the thick lemon rind. Bring 2 cups water to a boil with 1/3 cup salt. Boil diced lemon until they are just soft when pierced with a knife. Drain and set aside.

Go easy on the salt while cooking because the lemons and olives added at the end are quite salty. Serve this recipe with couscous or rice.

1 chicken, cut into pieces
4 garlic cloves
Salt
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

olive oil
1 large onion, grated
1/4 teaspoon pulverized saffron
1/2 cup mixed cilantro and parsley, chopped
1/2 cup ripe green olives, pitted
2 preserved lemon, diced
2 fresh lemons

1. Bash 4 cloves of garlic with 2 teaspoons salt in a mortar and pestle. Add in the spices to form a paste. Rub over the chicken pieces and marinate, covered, overnight.
2. Heat some of the oil in the tagine. Add the chicken pieces (marinade and all) to the pot so that they start to turn golden on the outside, about 5 minutes. Add in 2 cups water, the grated onion, and saffron. Cover and simmer 45 minutes, turning chicken occaisionally. You may need to add water to the pan if it gets dry.
3. Add the diced herbs, preserved lemon, and olives. Simmer 10 minutes for the flavors to combine.
4. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the chicken, olives, and preserved lemons to a platter.
5. Squeeze the juice of the two lemons into the sauce. Let the sauce boil for about 5 minutes until nice and thick. Using an immersion blender, puree the sauce until smooth. Pour the sauce over the platter of chicken and serve immediately.

Ingredient Spotlight: Shirsh el-Halaweh

The first few weeks of spring always seem to be busy ones. Everyone at work has finally realized it's no longer holiday break nor summer vacation and my calendar is suddenly packed. It's a good time to visit family and see the first blue bonnets spring in Texas. It's warm enough to clean up the yard and my seedlings (beets, mache, parsley, penstamon, nastrutium, spinach) are growing rapidly.

We also have a few new additions to the Desert Candy kitchen. Today we're talking about shirsh el-halaweh, also known as soapwort root or bois de panama. The guy in the spice shop held the root up and asked, with a puzzled expression, "is for cooking, no?"

Yes, indeed it is. The root is used to make a marshmallowy white foam called natef. It's very thick and creamy and almost like marshmallows. Natef can be used for all kinds of desserts but its most common usage is for a cookie called karabeej, which is dipped in natef cream. To make the cream the root is washed and boiled in water, then the root is discarded and the water is whipped into a thick foam sweetened with sugar. Stay tuned for a recipe.

Currently Eating: Manoushe bi Kishik

This is manoushe bi kishik, or a flatbread with kishik. Kishik is made by mixing yogurt and bulgur and letting it ferment. Kishik can be served fresh (mixed fresh and only a few days old, which you'll find in Middle Eastern cheese shops). Or kishik can be dried completely in the sun, and then ground to a powder. This powder is then rehydrated as a soup or sauce and has a very distinctive sour taste.

Pictured is a very traditional kishik flatbread, where kishik powder is mixed with tomato paste, olive oil, and sesame seeds and spread on bread. It's very mild and quite delicious.

The Fat of the Matter (A Special Kibbeh Recipe)

So in order to talk about this recipe today, we're going to have to talk about sheep butts. I know, not what you were expecting right? But here's the deal, in most parts of the Levant the sheep sort of have this extra butt, almost like a really wide fat tail, that you can see in the pictures. I remember seeing this for the first time near Sayyida Zeinab outside Damascus, and staring at these very weirdly shaped sheep. You see, the sheep are bred this way because that back part is just one big mass of fat. In Arabic this is called 'aliya, and is the traditional cooking fat, sort of like how lard is a traditional cooking fat in the U.S. Nowadays, most people use butter (ghee) or oil in their cooking because it's more cheaply and readily available, but 'aliya is still called for in some dishes.



So for today we have a very special kind of kibbeh recipe. It is a kibbeh stuffed with flavored fat, or 'aliya. Since 'aliya isn't readily available, there are several options for your fat: what I do is the next time you cook any fatty piece of lamb (like a leg or shoulder of lamb) trim off the fat, render the fat in a pan, and store it in a covered container in the fridge or freezer. Alternately, you can use some rendered bacon fat mixed with some butter, or you can use all butter.



Now, for this very special kind of kibbeh. This kibbeh is sometimes called "kibbeh zghortawieh," named after a town in Lebanon where this kind of fat-stuffed kibbeh is made. In reality, it's just one restaurant in this town that makes this kibbeh, though it's a destination of sorts. The kibbeh are made very large with thin shells, stuffed with the spiced fat mixture and grilled. You can see a great video of the kibbeh zghortawieh here.

But there are other more home-style ways of making fat stuffed kibbeh, that can vary completely depending on the cook. The two clear rules seem to be the following: the kibbeh are always baked or grilled (since they're packed with fat on the inside, there's no need for frying), and the fat mixture is always flavored with some sort of spice or herb mixture. Annisa Helou describes a lovely version called kibbeh kubab here. I once had one stuffed with some sort of mint-cinnamon-allspice mixture that was delicious.



My recipe here uses a pepper paste, which turn the insides a beautiful red and lends a slight sweetness to the kibbeh. They are some of the most delicious kibbeh I've had, little meatballs bursting with moisture and flavor. I do have one note of caution: you need to form the kibbeh very well, pounding the meat to a sticky paste and forming the shells without any gaps. I'll admit I was in a rush to make dinner, and as is obvious in the photo, the fat leaked out of many of my kibbeh. They were still delicious though, and I guess I spared us a few calories in this rich dish.


Kibbeh with Rich Red Pepper Stuffing
For the fat you can use rendered lamb fat, a mixture of bacon fat and butter, or all butter or ghee. Generally is is better to use the meat fats because the butter tends to run everywhere and get a bit messy. For the red pepper paste, if you don't use your own a store bought one (like ajvar) will do, just make sure it's not to watery. Feel free to experiment with the recipe and try other flavorings for the filling as well.

4 tablespoons fat (see headnote), at room temperature
2 tablespoons red pepper paste

1/2 a medium onion, grated on a box grater or pureed in a processor
1 lb ground lamb or beef
1 cup fine bulgur
2 teaspoons each allspice, cinnamon
sprinkling each of cloves, black pepper
salt to taste (I start with 1 teaspoon)

1. Mix the fat and the pepper paste, place in the fridge to chill.
2. Meanwhile place bulgur in a fine mesh strainer and rinse in several turns of water, then set aside to drain. Fluff the bulgur, then add to the remaining filling ingredients (onion, meat, spices). Knead the mixture well with you hands until it forms a sticky paste (dampen your hands with cold water if it gets too sticky).
3. Preheat oven to 450 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
4. Begin forming the kibbeh balls, use your thumb to work the shell mixture into a smooth hollow round in the palm of your hand. Place a small amount of fat in the middle of the kibbeh (about 1/2 tablespoon), then seal the kibbeh very well so there are no holes. Dampen you hands as you work to keep the meat from sticking. Once the kibbeh are formed, it helps to chill them for one hour before baking if you have the time.
5. Bake the kibbeh until browned on the exterior, about 12 minutes for small kibbeh balls (use you judgement, the time may vary depending on the size of the kibbeh). Serve immediately.

Basic Technique: Red Pepper Paste

In Lebanon and Syria there is a preserving tradition known as mouneh. These traditional preserves were made throughout the summer and into the fall, and were a way of preserving food to eat in the winter. Some of these are ingredients that are very familiar to you - jams and fruits preserved in syrup, concentrated tomato pastes, while others may be unknown in much of the West. Things like carob and grape molasses, kishik (a powdery mixture made from fermented dried yogurt and bulgur), or qawarma, rich lamb meat preserved in its own fat (not unlike duck confit).



Then there is pepper paste, which is so ubiquitous one might not even consider it a mouneh, but a constant staple. There is a strong Armenian influence in the Levant, and many give credit to the spicy pepper pastes in the region to the Armenian influence. (Generally, Levantine people dislike fiery spicy foods, and so anything with a bit of bite to it is often influenced by Armenian cuisine or Aleppian influences).

I would say that every culture has their pepper paste, whether fiery gochuchang or sweet ajvar, and so it's not worth arguing over origins. The pepper paste I make is made in a traditional way and is very easy. Traditionally this would be dried in the sun but I choose to just cook it a bit longer (it can happily simmer undisturbed for a few hours), and you could also try drying it out in a low oven. The paste is sweet and only barely spicy. I found myself spreading it on bread and in sandwiches and just eating it straight out of a jar. Next time I'm going to talk about a very special kibbeh recipe that uses this pepper paste.




Red Pepper Paste
Use your judgement with the chili. The chili I used, despite my incorporating the seeds, wasn't very spicy, so I added a pinch of Aleppo pepper flakes at the end.

3 large meaty red bell peppers, seeded and sliced into strips
1 small red chili, flesh sliced and a few seeds reserved
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon olive oil

1. Place the ingredients in a food processor and process until smooth.
2. Place a skillet over medium heat. Add the pepper puree and let bubble over medium heat, stirring occasionally until most of the moisture is evaporated.
3. As the pepper paste starts to concentrate, reduce the heat so that it is cooking more and more slowly. Let the mixture cook down until it is very thick, this can take up to 2 to 2 1/2 hours. Check on the mixture frequently to make sure it is not burning, but it really shouldn't need much stirring or other attention. Toward the end of cooking taste for seasoning, see if it needs more salt or spice.
4. Scrape the paste into a jar. Pour a film of oil over it if you plan to keep it for a while. Store in the refrigerator.

Potato Kibbeh

I'm trying to up my kibbeh quotient on this site, and given that there are a myriad types of kibbeh that shouldn't be so hard to do. (For a review on kibbeh 101, check out this post.) Though the dumpling-shape type of kibbeh is the most famous, I thought it would be good to share one of the types of kibbeh made in a tray (kibbeh b'il sayniayah). Kibbeh in a tray can be made with meat or in several vegetarian variations including pumpkin, lentil, and potato. Today we're making the potato version, which I've heard referred to as the Middle Eastern equivalent of shepherd's pie, a comparison not undeserved.



Potato kibbeh is basically a mashed potato casserole stuffed with caramelized onions and pine nuts. Meat can be added, but I often leave it out because I like to use the potato kibbeh as a side dish, especially for roast meats. The potatoes are made unique by the addition of traditional kibbeh spices and the use of bulgur, which gives the potatoes a slight nubby texture. It is very important to use the finest grade bulgur (it looks almost as fine as couscous or semolina), you may need to visit a Middle Eastern grocery for that. Potato kibbeh is a remarkably comforting dish, and unlike many kibbeh dishes that can seem delicate, fussy, or heavy with meat, it's one that you want on your table often, especially in these cold dark winter months.



Potato Kibbeh
For some extra luxury, top the dish with pats of butter before baking. Many stores sell a kibbeh spice mix but you can mix your own spices per the instructions below.

1 cup of fine grade bulgur
boiling water
4 medium size potatoes (should equal 3 to 3 1/2 cups cooked mashed potato)
2 tablespoons butter
a splash of milk, cream, or ashta if available
salt
1 teaspoon kibbeh spices or baharat

2 large onions, halved and thinly sliced
1 teaspoon sugar
1/4 cup pine nuts
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 lb ground beef or lamb (optional)

For filling:
1. Heat some olive oil in a saute pan, add the onions and a pinch of salt and saute over medium-low heat. Cook they onions until they are well caramelized, this could take as long as 45 minutes. Add the sugar towards the end to enhance the onions' sweetness. Set aside.
2. If using, saute the ground meat in the pan until well-browned, add to the onions.
3. Saute the pine nuts in the butter until golden brown (watch them carefully). Add the pine nuts to the onion mixture.

For outer shell:
1. Peel and cube potatoes and set to boil in salted water until tender. Meanwhile, pour boiling water over blgur until it is just saturated (you don't want the bulgur to be drowning). Let bulgur sit for 10 minutes, then fluff with a fork, if it still feels dry you can add a bit more boiling water.
2. Drain the potatoes well and put them back in the pot. Add the butter, salt and spices and mash until roughly mashed. Add the bulgur (drained of any excess liquid) and mix together. Gradually add the milk/cream until the texture is like that of firm mashed potatoes.

Bake:
1. Preheat oven the 350 F. Spread half the potato mixture evenly in an 8x8 inch baking dish. Spread the onion mixture evenly over top. Spread the remaining potato mixture over top. Use a wet spatula to press out the potato mixture evenly. If desired, use a sharp damp knife the score a decorative cross watch pattern on the surface. Place the dish in the oven and bake until warmed through and just a tiny bit golden on the top, about 20 minutes. Serve immediately.

Lebanese Style Stuffed Squash (Koosa Mehshi)

My uncle tells this fantastic story of an acquaintance of his, a lady from Louisiana but of Lebanese descent. She was famous for her kibbeh, and was asked one time for her recipe. "Well, first," she explained, "you have to take off all your gold," she said gesturing to her fingers and wrist covered in gold baubles. Maybe you had to be there, but I love that story, how it's so Lebanese and so Southern at the same time.

In the early 1900's there was a wave of Lebanese immigrants who settled in the U.S., mainly in the South. Many were of Christian descent, and I can't help but think they found something of kindred spirits in the South, the traditional seasonal cooking, the emphasis on etiquette, gentility, and appearance. The Southern Foodways Alliance has done a nice job of collecting some of their stories here.



They also brought with them their foods, primarily kibbeh and pita and stuffed vegetables. Stuffed vegetables can be made with both vegetarian and meat stuffings, and is traditionally made with zucchini, eggplant, and bell peppers, though technically any vegetable can be stuffed, including tomatoes, potatoes, and even really fat carrots.

For a festive dinner usually several different types of vegetables are stuffed with meat stuffing and cooked in a simple tomato sauce (though they can also be served in a yogurt sauce). Traditionally, a cook would buy a whole piece of bone-in meat, then dice and grind the meat themselves, and reserve the bones for putting in the pot. Many Levantine meat dishes are made using the bones this way, including grape leaves and stews, and I don't know of a home that doesn't own their own meat grinder. However, these days, it's much easier to just buy ground beef or lamb.

I always thought this was a difficult dish to make, but the coring is actually really easy (so long as you have a good corer) and there's really very little active work time. It's a nice one pot dish, with meat, vegetables, and rice. Serve it with extra rice pilaf on the side for soaking up the sauce.



Lebanese Style Stuffed Squash (Koosa Mehshi)

12-14 small thin zucchini (or small thin eggplant or bell peppers)
1 cup medium grain rice
1/2 lb ground beef or lamb, at least 85% lean
1/4 cup chopped flat leaf parsley
1 sprig mint, leaves finely minced
1/2 teaspoon baharat*
salt, pepper
olive oil
4-5 cups diced tomatoes with their juices, fresh or canned
1 small onion, diced
meat bones (optional)
yogurt and rice pilaf for serving (optional)

1. Using a corer, core the zucchini, being careful not to pierce the outer shell. Discard cores.
2. Mix together the rice, ground meat, parsley, mint, baharat, and season with salt and pepper. Smush together to mix well.
3. Stuff the squash 3/4 full with the meat mixture (no more, the rice needs space to expand!).
4. Heat some olive oil in a large pan. Add the onion and saute briefly, until translucent. Place the bones in the bottom of the pot, if using, then pour the tomatoes over top. Nestle the stuffed squash in the pan, so that they are about 3/4 covered in the liquid. Try to arrange them so that the open ends stick up and the stuffing won't fall out of them. Bring to a simmer, partially cover the pot, and simmer for 40-45 minutes. Turn the squashes half-way through so that they cook evenly. Test the rice for doneness before serving.
5. Serve warm, with rice pilaf and some thick yogurt on the side.

The Difference Between Roasting and Frying

I've been meaning to write this post for a long time, so long in fact, that this recipe has changed since I originally intended to write about it. That's a good thing, meaning that this recipe is a favorite of ours and that it is quality controlled and tested (another way of saying I ate a lot of it). But the thing I've been meaning to write about is the difference between roasting and frying. If you were to ask a Western chef, say Michael Ruhlman, about the difference, he would probably give you a long answer about heat and molecules and fat absorption. But in the most of the world (that is in the 2nd and 3rd worlds), there is one distinction between frying and roasting: money.

The cost of cooking fuel is a major expense in many households and it costs a whole lot more to heat an oven at a consistent temperature than it does to use a relatively small flame to heat a pot of frying oil. And I'm not talking just about poverty here, for middle class families in places like Iraq and Syria, where people have modern ovens and cooking appliances, the oven is still reserved for use sparingly, for special occasions and big cuts of meat, because of the cost associated. And in many places like China and Japan, ovens aren't even a standard part of the kitchen.



I say this mainly because there are several Middle Eastern recipes where I adapt frying to roasting. Frankly, I don't want to wrestle a pot of boiling oil, and roasting is a bit more healthful and easier. In the case of this recipe, it started with a simple preparation for cauliflower. The cauliflower is broken into florets, fried in a shallow pan of oil, and served with a squeeze of lemon and maybe a bit of tahini sauce. It's addictive, in a way you never thought cauliflower could be.

I roast the cauliflower in a pan in the oven, which means you can roast the entire head at once. I originally served the cauliflower with just a drizzling of tahini sauce, then I added a few slivered almonds, then some golden raisins, and so on until I arrived at this salad. It's crunchy and creamy and tart and perfect for winter.



Roast Cauliflowers with Tahini, Almond, and Pomegranate
Don't be surprised if you find you can eat a whole head of roast cauliflower yourself, it's surprisingly addictive. Pine nuts can also be used in place of almonds.

1 large head of cauliflower
olive oil
salt and pepper
1 recipe tahini sauce
1/2 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup slivered almonds
1/2 cup pomegranate seeds
1 cup of chopped parsley and cilantro (mixed)

1. Preheat oven to 410 F. Place head of cauliflower sideways on a large cutting board, and start slicing about 1/2 inch slices across the top. There will be a mess of tiny florets everywhere, that's okay. When you reach the core, slice the sides of the cauliflower in the same manner. Chop any large florets into smaller bits (about 1-2 inch pieces). Discard core.

2. Drizzle olive oil over a large baking sheet. Add all the cauliflower to the baking sheet, drizzle with a bit more olive oil and roll around so that cauliflower is coated in oil. Season well with salt and pepper. Roast cauliflower for 25-35 minutes, until browned in spots and large pieces of cauliflower are tender when poked with a knife.

3. Meanwhile, while cauliflower is roasting, place raisins in a bowl and pour boiling water over the cover. Let sit to plump. Toast almonds in a skillet until lightly browned and fragrant.

4. Transfer cauliflower to a serving bowl. Drain raisins, and add raisins, almonds, and herbs to cauliflower, stirring to mix. Drizzle tahini sauce over top (you may not use all of it). Sprinkle pomegranate seeds over. Serve warm or at room temperature.

A Middle Eastern Thankgiving

A few years ago at Thanksgiving dinner, a friend who knows about this blog, asked me if I thought it would be possible to do a Middle Eastern Thanksgiving. Despite some people's scepticism, I said I actually thought it was a great idea. Middle Eastern cooking makes great use of spices like cinnamon and allspice, and they have numerous recipes for things like pumpkin and kale and nuts.

My goal here was to do things that hemmed closely to the traditional Thanksgiving, as opposed to just throwing some tabbouleh and hummus next to the turkey. The only real challenge was the stuffing (aka dressing), especially given my great love of cornbread dressing. But a rice pilaf was a good substitute.



On other things it was much easier to find a good substitute, like pearl onions with a touch of tamarind and swiss chard with a tahini sauce. For the potato kibbeh, imagine mashed potatoes mixed with caramelized onions and then baked until the top is crackly and crispy. I've been told that people actually prefer the mashed carrots to overly-sweet mashed sweet potatoes.

As for the turkey, it's a completely traditional roasting recipe that we tested out last week. A good rubbing of butter, salt, and pepper, and that's pretty much it. But it came out perfectly, moist breast meat and falling-off the bone thighs. But the gravy, infused with some reduced pomegranate gravy, is what makes it special.

As for dessert, what could be more similar to pecan pie than baklava, or a sweet date tart. I know everyone has their die-hard Thanksgiving traditions, but hopefully this can serve as some food for thought for future meals. After all, roast turkey should be served more than once a year. Happy Thankgiving to you and yours!

Pumpkin Hummus
Olive-Potato Bites

Turkey with Pomegranate Gravy (recipe follows)

Pearl Onions in Tamarind
Swiss Chard with Tahini
Potato Kibbeh in a Tray
Anbari Rice Pilaf
Mashed Carrot Salad

Flaky Sesame Rolls

Custard Baklava or Regular Baklava
Marya's Date Tart

(another good addition: Bulgur Salad with Walnuts and Pomegranate)



Turkey with Pomegranate Gravy
Adapted from Gourmet.

For turkey

* 1 (12 to 14 lb) turkey, any quills removed
* turkey neck and giblets reserved for making stock
* 6 tablespoons butter, softened, plus 4 tbl melted butter for basting
* 1 tablespoon salt
* 1 1/2 teaspoons black pepper
* 1 onion, quartered
* 4 fresh thyme sprigs

For gravy

* 16 oz bottled pomegranate juice
* pan juices (and roasting pan) from turkey
* about 3 cups hot turkey giblet stock
* 1 cup water
* 4 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1. For stock: place neck and giblets (not liver) in a saucepan with one small chopped onion, one clove onion, one chopped carrot, and some salt, pepper and any herbs you have on hand. Cover with water and set to very low simmer for 2-3 hours, or until you're ready to make the gravy.

2. For pomegranate: Place pomegranate juice in a saucepan and simmer until reduced to 2/3 to 1/2 a cup. Set aside.

3. Preheat oven to 350 F. Rinse and pat dry turkey. From the neck, gently run fingers under skin of turkey to loosen the skin all over breast and thighs. Grabbing bits of softened butter with your fingers, work the butter under the skin all over breast and thighs to cover them with butter. Rub turkey outside all over with salt and pepper. Stuff cavity with onion and thyme and place on roasting rack in roasting pan.

4. Place in oven and bake, basting with melted butter every 20-30 minutes, until turkey is golden brown and thermometer inserted into fleshy part of a thigh (do not touch bone) registers 170°F, 2 1/2 to 3 hours. (If turkey is browning too quickly, tent with foil. If bottom of pan looks like it's burning, add some water to pan juices.)

5. Remove turkey from oven, tilting turkey so any juice in cavity run into pan. Move turkey to carving board and tent with foil. Let rest 30 minutes (this temp will rise to 180 F).

6. Meanwhile, pour off any pan juices into a container and place in the fridge. Straddle roasting pan over two burners, add water and cook to deglaze pan, scraping up any brown bits, about 1 minute. Pour liquid through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl. Add enough turkey stock to pan juices to total 3 cups liquid.

7. Skim 4 tbl of fat off the top of the container you placed in the fridge. Whisk together fat and flour in a heavy saucepan and cook roux over moderately low heat, whisking, until pale golden, 7 to 10 minutes. Add hot stock mixture in a stream, whisking constantly to prevent lumps. Bring to a boil, whisking, and add pomegranate syrup, then reduce heat and simmer, whisking occasionally, until thickened, about 5 minutes.

8. Carve turkey and serve with gravy.

Chermoula

Chermoula is a seafood marinade used in Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria. Although it's traditionally used just as a marinade, it's pretty good used in other applications, a spicy mix of garlic, cilantro, olive oil, lemon, chili pepper, and seasonings. It's not unlike chimichurri in Argentina. Often fish or seafood are rolled in chermoula, and then layered in a dish with onions and tomatoes and other ingredients to make a tagine. Stay tuned for a tagine recipe coming soon.



Chermoula

1 large bunch cilantro
1 small bunch flat-leaf parsley
1 small red chili pepper, seeds removed and pepper chopped
1 small garlic glove, minced
1 teaspoon each cumin, coriander, salt
juice of 1 lemon
1/3 cup olive oil

1. Dice the cilantro and parsley leaves as finely as possible. Combine remaining ingredients.

Meatballs in Swiss Chard and Tahini Sauce

I'm going to start this off by saying, I don't think this recipe really worked. In fact, it seems almost cruel to be posting this now - I'm in Paris oggling the beautiful markets, the abundance of fall squashes, and remembering back to this recipe made on a dark night in my poorly-lit kitchen with a recipe that only half-way worked.



This is an uncommon but not unusual recipe in the Levant, pairing a garlicky swiss chard and tahini sauce with meatballs. Sometimes the meatballs are plain, sometimes they are more fancy, made with kibbeh instead of meatballs. And sometimes this dish can be vegetarian, with chickpeas replacing the meatballs.



But here's the deal, I love the swiss chard and tahini sauce, it' the bright spot in this recipe. Friends, this part is a "put-it-in-the-recipe-file" keeper, it's garlicky and creamy and crunchy, and best of all good for you. I also like the meatballs, and really, who doesn't love a good meatball? But together, I just think this combination doesn't work. Maybe if you cooked the meatballs together with the chard for longer, maybe then the flavors would blend. But as it stands it's like two clashing armies battling it out for your taste buds.

So take my advice and just make the swiss chard sauce. Add in some chickpeas if you want the heft of a vegetarian main course. Serve it warm or cold, serve it over couscous or bulgur. Make some meatballs another time.



Meatballs in Swiss Chard and Tahini Sauce
Adapted from various sources. Please read the above post for recommendations.
1 lb ground lamb
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon baharat
1 onion, divided in half
olive oil salt
2 cups chopped tomatoes (canned or fresh)
2 gloves garlic, minced
1 bunch swiss chard
1.2 teaspooon Aleppo pepper
1/2 cup walnuts, toasted
1 recipe tahini sauce (see previous)

1. Grate half of the onion on the holes of a box grater. Mix together the meat, onion, salt, and seasoning, kneading the mixture with your hands until it is smooth and sticky. (Alternately, you can grind the onion in the food processor, then add the remaining ingredients, pulsing to combine.) Roll into meatballs about 1 inch in diameter and refrigerate.
2. Dice the remaining onion and mice the garlic. Heat some olive oil in a saute pan, then saute the onion and garlic until softened. Add the tomatoes, season with salt, and cook until slightly broken down and saucey, about 15-20 minutes. Set aside.
3. Meanwhile, set a pot of water to boil. Remove the ribs from the swiss chard and roughly chop. Add to the boiling water and blanch the chard to soften. Remove with a slotted spoon and chop finely. Add the chard and Aleppo pepper to the tomato sauce, return to heat, and cook until the chard is soft and cooked through. Set tomato sauce aside to cool down.
4. Heat up some oil in a very large frying pan, add the meatballs and cook the meatballs until well browned and cooked through (this may take quite a while). Work in batches if necessary.
5. Stir the half the tahini sauce into the now-cool swiss chard, and stir in the walnuts. Place the warm meatballs on top. Sprinkle with cilantro. Serve.

Basic Technique: Tahini Sauce

Here's a basic technique of Middle Eastern cuisine: tahini sauce. This is the classic way of preparing tahini, not just a sauce but a component of a myriad of dishes. Add pureed chickpeas to this and you have hummus, add mashed eggplant to it and you have baba ghanoush. Drizzle it on top of fish, toss it with dice tomatoes, or stir it into cooked swiss chard. This technique is embedded in hundreds of Middle Eastern recipe.


This technique also has a cool chemical reaction in it: the interaction between the tahini and the lemon juice. The acid in the lemon juice causes a very runny tahini sauce to thicken up and become stiff and solid. (Any chemists out there who can explain this??)

This is an old school recipe that's best done with a mortar and pestle. You can do this in a food processor, but I rarely do (mainly because I hate cleaning the food processor), but also because I find it doesn't do a very good job smashing the garlic.

Tahini Sauce
This sauce is classic, and rarely needs anything else, but feel free to try adding a pinch of cumin or Aleppo pepper just to mix things up.

1 garlic clove
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup tahini
juice of 2 lemons (must be fresh!)
water

1. Bash the garlic and salt in a mortar and pestle until it reaches a smooth paste. Transfer the paste to a bowl and stir in the tahini.
2. Add in the lemon juice, you will see the sauce become very white and "tight." Slowly add in water until the mixture reaches a smooth paste (don't be surprised, you may have to add up to 1 to 2 cups of water). The sauce should be thick put pourable. Season as desired.

Samkeh Harra (Spicy Fish from Tripoli)

With an entire section of our library devoted to cookbooks, some of which often go unused for months (umm, years) at a time, I will occasionally force myself to cook something out of one of my old cookbooks from time to time. It's a good deterrent from buying that big new glossy book you want that you'll probably cook two recipes out of and then relinquish to the shelf.

Flipping though Paula Wolfert's "Cooking of the Eastern Mediterranean," I spotted a recipe called "pepper fish" that I thought looked good. Later, when I checked the recipe again, I realized, with the sort of slow realization of seeing something through frosted glass, that this was in fact a classic Lebanese dish from Tripoli known as samkeh harra, or spicy fish.

While Ms. Wolfert's work done on Moroccan cuisine is unparalleled in its accuracy and detail, her work in other countries often strikes me as odd. Her Levantine recipes tend to wring a false note with me, as if someone came to America for a few weeks and discovered a recipe they called "beef patty with sesame bread and sweet tomato reduction." Aka, a hamburger.

But I digress. I decided to go ahead and make the classic samkeh harra, which is a red snapper stuffed with chopped herbs, walnuts, and chile peppers, and topped with a garlicky tahini sauce. This is a celebration dish in the best sense, not that it is particularly complicated or difficult, but that it just feels festive to eat and serve. It is traditionally served with long grain rice (a sort of red wild rice is traditional) and with all the herbs and nuts, practically makes a meal of itself. When you serve it make sure to top everyone's fish portion with some more of of the tahini sauce and herb-chile mixture.



Samkeh Harra (Spicy Fish from Tripoli)
This festive dish is found along the Northern coast of Lebanon and the coast of Syria. Snapper is traditional, but a similar fish can work, and if you dislike the idea of a whole fish, it can be made with two fillets as well (adjust the baking time accordingly). Serve with wild rice.

1 red snapper (about 3-4 pounds), scaled and gutted
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
1 c walnuts, chopped
2 chilies (jalapenos are fine), finely chopped, seeds set aside
salt and pepper

tahini sauce:
1 c tahini
2 large garlic cloves, mashed in a mortar and pestle
1-1/2 c water
juice of 3 lemons
1 tsp cumin

1. Preheat oven to 375 F. Combine the chopped cilantro, walnuts, chilies, and salt and pepper. (If you don't want to do the chopping, you can also toss the ingredients in the food processor and give it a few pulses, everything should be just coarsely chopped). Add in the reserved chile seeds, as few or as many as you want depending on your tolerance, you can omit them if desired.
2. Make three slashes on each side of the fish with a knife and rub the fish inside and out with olive oil and salt. Stuff 2/3 of the herb mixture into the cavity of the fish. Place on a baking sheet and roast for 25 minutes, or until the fish is slightly under-done.
3. Meanwhile combine the tahini sauce ingredients in a saucepan and stir until very smooth. Place over medium heat and heat the sauce, stirring, just until warmed.
4. After the fish has cooked for 25 minutes, pour half of the tahini sauce over the fish, and return to the oven for 10 more minutes, or until the fish flakes easily.
5. To serve, fillet the fish. Place some fish on a plate, top with some reserved tahini sauce, and top with some of the stuffing from inside the fish. Place extra bowls of tahini sauce and stuffing mixture on table for people to use as they like.

Kebab Karaz (Cherry Kebabs)

This dish is a specialty of Aleppo, Syria, where sour cherries are prevalent. I ate this dish for the first time at the famous Beit Sissi in Aleppo, a must-visit for anyone interested in Levantine cuisine. I'd never made kebab karaz because sour cherries are very hard to come by in my neighborhood. But if you're determined, possessing of friends from Michigan, or willing to order frozen or canned cherries, it is possible to get your fix. You can check out Middle Eastern or Persian/Pakistani groceries too.

At its simplest version, kebab karaz involves stringing sour cherries and little meatballs on a stick and grilling them. The idea is always to have the cherries and the meatballs approximately the same size. In a slightly more complicated version, you make a sauce with the cherries and add the grilled meatballs to it afterwards, and in the most complex version, you make kibbeh (follow this recipe) and then add it to the cherry sauce.



I prefer the middle version, since it's easy and the cherry sauce that coats the meatballs is a beautiful glistening red, and delicious. The photo here really does not do it justice. I'm not a big eater of red meat, and yet I made sure I got the last portion of this to take for my lunch the next day. I think that says a lot.



Kebab Karaz (Cherry Kebabs)
Be sure to serve this over flattened pieces of pita bread, or over rice, to absorb the juices.

1/2 an onion, finely diced
4 cups sour cherries, pitted
2 generous tablespoons pomegranate molasses
2 tablespoons sugar, or to taste
1 pound ground lamb or beef
2 teaspoons baharat
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon cumin
2 teaspoons salt
black pepper to taste
cilantro, pine nuts, for garnish

1. Prepare meatballs: knead the meat and remaining ingredients together until the mixture is smooth and sticky (you can also pulse it in the food processor if you want. Shape the mixture into balls the same size as large cherries and string onto kebab skewers. Refrigerate.
2. Preheat grill.
3. Saute the onion in some olive oil in a large skillet until it is translucent and tender. Add in the cherries, pomegranate molasses, and sugar and stir to combine. Simmer for 5-10 minutes, just to combine.
4. Grill the meatballs until nicely browned on the outside and cooked through. Add meatballs to the cherry sauce. Garnish with cilantro and pine nuts as desired. Serve immediately over rice or bread.