Before the internet, this is how secrets were passed around. Person-to-person. Only the best tricks survived the test of time. During Lent, my grandmother’s sister, Aunt Kiki, invited me to prepare yalanji with her. She explained that Yalanji is a Turkish word. It means “liar” or “fake.” In the food world, yalanji refers to vegetarian variation of stuffed vegetables or dolmas. Since dolmas typically call for minced meat in the stuffing, the vegetarian version is often called yalanji or “lying” dolmas.

Even though these are vegetarian, don’t let that fool you! The star of these yalanji is the incredibly flavorful and satisfying filling. The vegetable on the exterior is simply a vehicle for the wonderfully sour and slightly sweet stuffing. You typically find yalanji made from stuffing grape leaves and even tiny tiny eggplants, but my grandmother’s sister loves the delicate, silky texture of Swiss chard. I’ve had yalanji at many restaurants and homes, but none come close to Aunt Kiki’s recipe.

Yalanji takes time, preparation, and lots of patience. The day Aunt Kiki taught me her recipe, I remember we woke up exceptionally early to go to Aleppo’s main vegetable market (سوق الخضرة). This was a real farmers market. The vendors were all local farmers selling what was plentiful and in-season. The vegetables were overflowing, freshly picked, with dirt still on the surfaces. Prices were competitive, too. As we walked past the carts, vendors belted their best prices. It was like walking into an auction hall of produce. It was loud and invigorating! I drew a lot of attention with the big camera strapped around my neck. Kids followed me around posing with their family’s produce.

Aleppo Vegetable Market, 2010

In order to make the best yalanji, you need to pack lots of flavor into the stuffing. Unlike meat-based dolmas, yalanji don’t have the benefit of fatty meat. That’s where Aunt Kiki’s secret comes into play. Once we washed our produce from the market, I remember she asked me for Arabic coffee from the pantry. I assumed she wanted to re-energize. I reached for the brik (Arabic coffee pot) and handed her a couple of demitasses. She smiled and told me to put those away. I was confused. That’s when she told me that the coffee was for the filling. At first, I thought she was joking. I tasted her yalanji before. They were amazing. Delicious, full of flavor, but they didn’t taste anything like coffee. That’s because a spoonful is all you need. The coffee adds a subtle depth that draws out the flavor of the other ingredients; it’s barely noticeable.

mise en place

sweat yellow onions

rinse rice

vegetarian stuffing

wash Swiss chard

remove stems

blanch chard leaves

shock in ice bath

prepare to stuff

stuffing: step 1

stuffing: step 2

stuffing: step 3

stuffing: step 4

stuffing: step 5

potatoes to prevent sticking/burning

yalanji, organized

heavy plate

yalanji (يلنجي)

yalanji (يلنجي) with lemon

Yalanji Dolmas

yields ~32 pieces

Components

• 16 large Swiss chard leaves
• 1 cup medium grain rice
• 3/4 cup walnuts, chopped
• 3-4 medium yellow onions, diced
• 1 bunch flat leaf parsley, chopped
• 1/4 cup lemon juice, freshly squeezed
• 3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 Tbsp pomegranate molasses
• 1 Tbsp red pepper paste
• 1 Tbsp tomato paste
• 1 Tbsp Arabic coffee, ground
• 1 tsp dried mint
• 1 tsp granulated sugar
• 1/2 tsp allspice
• salt, to taste
• 1 potato, optional
• 2 lemons, for garnish

Putting them all together

1. Wash Swiss chard leaves in cold water. With the chard leaves vein side up, flat on a cutting board, remove the stems by running your knife along both sides of the stem (do not discard stems*).
2. Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Season with salt.
3. Blanch the Swiss chard leaves submerging them in the boiling water for 15-30 seconds, then removing them to a bowl of ice water to halt the cooking process. This preserves the leaves’ vibrant green color and makes them easier to stuff. Drain leaves and set aside.
4. Rinse rice under cold water. Drain and set aside.
5. In a large sauté pan over medium low heat, add olive oil and diced onions. Season with salt. Sweat onions until translucent. Make sure not to brown or caramelize the onions.
6. Add the rice to the onions. Cook over medium-low heat for 3-5 minutes, stirring occasionally to give the rice a head start.
7. Mix all the stuffing ingredients together (everything except for the Swiss chard, potatoes, and lemons). Season with salt (taste and adjust accordingly).
8. Lay one strip of blanched Swiss chard leaf on a clean work surface. Add a tablespoon (Tbsp) of filling to the base. Fold in a triangular pattern as shown in the photos (like folding a flag) until the filling is securely tucked inside the leaf. Continue until all the leaves and stuffing are complete.
9. Line the bottom or a medium to large pot with sliced potatoes* to protect the yalanji from burning.
10. Arrange the triangular yalanji in the pot in a way that minimizes the space between them, like a game of Tetris.
11. Add 3/4 cup of water to the lemon juice. Season with salt (to taste). Pour lemon mixture over the yalanji. Add more water until it the top row is covered by about 1/2 an inch.
12. Insert a heavy, heat-proof plate over the yalanji to keep them submerged and prevent them from moving while cooking.
13. Place the pot over medium high heat until the water comes to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer (low) and cook for 45 minutes.
14. After 45 minutes, taste a yalanji from the top to make sure the rice is fully cooked. If not, continue cooking until rice is slightly al dente.
15. Drain excess cooking liquid from the pot. Allow yalanji to cool to room temperature. Gently remove the yalanji from the pot and store them covered in the refrigerator until ready to eat. Yalanji taste better the following day, once they’ve had a chance to cool and the flavors have married.

Notes: Make sure not to add Arabic coffee infused with cardamom, otherwise that will throw off the flavor of your yalanji. If you don’t have a potato, you could also use the leftover stems from the Swiss chard. If you line the bottom of the pot with potatoes, do not discard the Swiss chard stems. Chop them up into large chunks and cook them with thinly sliced onions and minced garlic in a bit of extra virgin olive oil. Season with salt, ground coriander, and serve over a bed of rice. You can finish off with a fried egg or serve it alongside a creamy, mint-garlic yogurt sauce.

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the perfect bite

Qatayef are a cross between a sweet pancake, crepe, and a dumpling. They’re usually stuffed with clotted cream or nuts, then deep fried, and coated in delicious orange blossom-infused simple syrup. During Ramadan, you’ll find street vendors frying up these delicious pastries late into the night as families celebrate with their loved ones.

There’s a slightly healthier version that isn’t deep fried– that’s the one I’m featuring today. They’re called qatayef asafiri (قطايف عصافيري), or bird-shaped qatayef. That’s because final shape resembles the beak of a bird. Instead of frying the qatayef, you fold and pinch the pancake on one side so that it opens up to hold a delicious clotted cream filling.

mise en place

warm water, between 110-115ºF

dissolve the yeast

mix it all together

tiny qatayef/pancakes

cook only on one side

fold and pinch

qatayef asafiri (قطايفعصافيري)

drizzle of ‘ater (simple syrup)

the perfect bite

The best kibbeh nayyeh is made with ultra lean meat. It shouldn’t have any fat or gristle, lest you ruin the delicate flavor and texture of the meat. Before the advent of meat grinders and food processors, the meat used to be finely minced using a sharp knife and pounded into a smooth paste using a large stone mortar, called a jurn. The person behind the jurn would typically hand out samples and adjust the seasoning accordingly.

I have fond memories of my grandmother (teta) preparing kibbeh nayyeh at home. My mom and aunts would help prepare other dishes, but kibbeh nayyeh was my teta’s specialty. She used to grind her own meat using a huge, commercial-grade meat grinder tucked away in a small room behind her kitchen. She used to pass the meat through grinder three times, using progressively finer disks. I remember staring into the machine as braids of meat streamed out of the extruder. After three runs through the grinder, she blended the meat in a food processor with a few cubes of ice until the meat resembled the smooth, creamy consistency that’s emblematic of kibbeh nayyeh pounded in the jurn. The ice helps keep the meat chilled. I loved being around teta in the kitchen because she used to feed me bites of whatever she’s cooking. Food always tasted better from her hands.

Unfortunately, I don’t have a back room in my kitchen or space for a commercial-grade meat grinder, so I rely on my local butcher at Parts and Labor for kibbeh meat. If you work with a local butcher to prepare kibbeh nayyeh, it’s important they know you plan to eat the meat raw. Ask for fresh meat without any fat whatsoever. They should grind it three times on a clean machine, before any other meat is ground. If you find a butcher who will do all this for you, bring them back some kibbeh nayyeh for them to try — they’re a keeper.

mise en place

rough chop

red pepper + onion pulp

soaking bulgur wheat

ice keeps the lamb chilled

habra: lamb paste

mix habra and seasoned bulgur

kibbeh nayyeh, platter presentation

kibbeh nayyeh, mezze presentation

kibbeh nayyeh (كبةنيّ)

the perfect bite

I’m not vegetarian, but I care about meat. I care about how animals are raised. I care about their welfare. I care about what Michael Pollan describes as, their “creaturely character.” Happiness for any animal, he explains, stems from their opportunity to express their essential “pigness” or “wolfness” or “chickenness.” In his piece for New York Times Magazine, An Animal’s Place, Pollan asserts that “for domesticated species, the good life […] cannot be achieved apart from humans –- apart from our farms and, therefore, our meat eating.”

Michael Pollan is one of my favorite food writers. If you care about meat (or food in general), you should read his work. In this particular piece, Pollan interrogates his own practice of eating meat. He thoughtfully examines the moral and ethical qualms of slaughtering animals for food. This careful introspection is something most vegetarians have worked though. The meat we find in most grocery stores is processed and packaged to barely resemble the animals it came from. This disconnect is intentional. If only we knew the reality of how most of our meat is processed, more of us would probably be vegetarian.

The issue of meat production is complex. It’s tied to socio-economic issues, health, the environment, and many other facets of our lives. Access to inexpensive, low-quality meat has triggered a public health criss in the US. Why would someone buy fresh vegetables when a hamburger and fries with a soft drink is less expensive and more convenient? Meat across the Middle East, for the most part, is still relatively expensive compared to vegetables, grains, and legumes, which are plentiful and cheap.

Ever since I moved back to the US, I go out of my way to buy meat from local farms. Not only does the meat taste better, but it’s important to support local farmers who work hard to raise animals sustainably and with compassion. Parts & Labor is a local restaurant and butchery in Baltimore’s Remington neighborhood that’s committed to sustainable, whole-animal butchery. This means they buy whole animals from local farms, break them down in-house, and use as much of the animal as possible. The menu development process at Parts & Labor relies heavily on use of the whole animal. Wyatt Jaster, butcher at Parts & Labor explains, “we use trotters (pig feet) to thicken a sauce used on one of our sandwiches. Another dish we are very proud of is our crispy pork rind. It took a lot of trial and error to get that just the way we wanted it.” Whole animal butchery is important because it fully honors the sacrifice of a living creature. Additionally, it reduces waste and introduces consumers to a variety of products that they might have otherwise overlooked or not known about.

Parts & Labor

Committed to local, sustainable butchery

curing room at P&L

Parts & Labor opened their doors in April of 2014 in a space that used to be an auto body and tire shop. From steaks to homemade sausage and cured meats, the butchers at Parts & Labor pride themselves on seam butchery, a classic French technique of breaking down animals following the natural seams of muscles. Parts & Labor is the sister restaurant to Woodberry Kitchen, both of which are owned by James Beard award-winning chef and restauranteur, Spike Gjerde. Spike and and his entire team are committed to a local, sustainable culture of cooking and eating.

tending to the smoker

smoking pit

A couple weeks ago, I asked the team of butchers at Parts & Labor for ground lamb without any fat so that I can prepare kibbeh nayye, the Middle Eastern version of lamb tartare. If you’re going to prepare kibbeh nayyeh, which literally translates to raw kibbeh, you want to make sure you work with a local butcher shop that sources their meat from reputable farmers. It’s incredibly important that the lamb is fresh with as little fat as possible. Parts & Labor sources their lamb from Shenandoah Valley Lamb, a local co-op composed of small farms in Maryland, Virginia, and Pennsylvania.

fresh lamb

I was excited to go behind the scenes at Parts & Labor to recreate a similar experience I had while living in Syria. I shadowed Wyatt, who worked with his team to break down three lamb they had received that day. I also got a tour of their curing room, where they age all the salumi, which they prepare in-house.

If you’re not a vegetarian, it’s important to examine where your meat comes from. What conditions are the animals raised in? Are they treated with excessive use of antibiotics? Meat from a local butcher or a farm is more expensive, but that’s only because we live under the illusion that meat is an industrial commodity that can be produced cheaply and in large quantities. That’s simply not true. I want to thank the team at Parts & Labor for their commitment to local, sustainable practices and for allowing me shadow them for an afternoon. Stay tuned the kibbeh nayyeh recipe next week!

pulling lamb suet (hard white fat)

heavy machinery

lamb cavity

lamb breakdown

Manuel, 30 years of experience

teamwork

Wyatt debones leg of lamb

Parts & Labor

Abu Abdo’s dad, Abdo, opened the iconic shop bearing his name in 1885. Everyone from celebrities and high-ranking politicians to the poorest in the community have eaten at Abu Abdo’s. Wealthy entrepreneurs have tried to convince Abu Abdo to sell his shop or open a franchise, but Abu Abdo always turned down these offers. He has worked behind the counter, serving the community, since he was twelve years old.

Abu Abdo

Photo credit: Emily Smith Chammah

Abu Abdo’s shop has a couple tables, but most patrons pick up their fava beans to-go (سفري) in small plastic bags. Abu Abdo is always the one behind the counter, greeting customers while frantically filling orders. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Unfortunately, Abu Abdo’s has since closed due to the ongoing war in Syria. The historic Jdeydeh district has sustained substantial damage from fighting between rebel and government forces.

The secret to Abu Abdo’s success though was never tied to his fava beans. He was successful because of the way he greeted and interacted with his community. He was honest, kind, and never turned away a hungry visitor, regardless of how little money they had. Kids would sometimes ask how much ful they could buy with 5 Syrian pounds (the equivalent of a few cents), knowing Abu Abdo would take care of them and their families.

Abu Abdo was committed to his craft, as was his father before him. He never let fame get in the way of his work. While you can find ful in a can these days, it’s a treat to pay homage to this hard working Syrian legend by recreating his classic fava beans from scratch.

mise en place

soaked fava beans

cooked fava beans

tahini-lemon-garlic sauce

ful in tahini sauce (فول بالطحينة)

ful bite (لقمةفول)