The Egyptian Kitchen

Egyptian fava bean dip: Bissara (bessara)

2024-08-26T17:52:00.001+02:00

It's that time of the year: Fava bean season. And by fava been I mean broad beans. Not the beans used in ful mudammas. This is the bigger louder cousin of the bean family.

All througout the mediterranean basin, fava beans are on display. Each country has its own approach to eating them. In Portugal, they are used to make hearty stews, in France they are eaten fresh or thrown into salads. And in Egypt, they are pureed into a lovely dip called Bissara. (Beess-awe-ra).

Beware! A similar type of dish and name exists in Morocco of berber origin, but it is more of a soup. One could deduce that bissara, which has its origins in the pharaonic era, made its way across the sahara to Morocco. The Egyptian version is different though.

Simple yet efficient

Bissara is a mezze dish, but more for breakfast and especially if you're in the rural areas. You eat this and your good for the day. It's a similar approach to the ful muddammas meal. You eat this and you've got your proteins and carbs for the day; like a stone in your stomach.

But it's a very popular mezze dish in the cities too. Most restaurants will have it on their menu.

So what is it?

It's quite simply mashed fava beans with fresh herbs, mixed with some seasoned oil. Boom! There you go. It's really the base for making Egyptian falafel (taameya) but with different seasoning.

Origins

The broad bean became domesticated in the Near East some time around 3000BC. Or possibly even earlier, as one source cites charred remains in Neolithic sites in the Levantine region, marking the domestication of the crop to as early as 8250 BC.

Egyptians, Romans, Greeks....they all had the perfect growing environment for it and thus have been consuming it for centuries. Some call it fava, or faba, or broad bean. It's all the same. It's considered to be 'Old World Agriculture". Regardless, it's one of the most ancient plants in cultivation, likely because it's one of the easiest to grow.

Some consider the dish itself to date back to the pharaonic times, a likely scenario given all the ingredients grow in abundance naturally in Egypt: fava beans, dill, coriander, parsley, garlic, and cumin.

While the word 'Bissara' likely stems from the Coptic word peeseowor, meaning cooked and mashed beans, there's no evidence really that this particular dish was eaten in ancient Egypt. There is, however, a dish in Morocco with a similar name, but it is served as soup.

Traditional food

It's a very popular dish among the Coptic community during the times of fasting (over 250 days), when they have to stay away from animal products. You normally eat it before a main meal, or as a snack.

It's also a very inexpensive meal to prepare, making it a popular dish among the poorer Egyptians, especially in the countryside where these ingredients are readily and easily found. Here, bissara is often eaten as a meal rather than a snack. You can put it in the same category as ful muddammas, and really, if you look at the ingredients, it's the precursor to taameya (egyptian falafel)!

Urbanisation

As is the case with many peasant dishes, mass urbanisation in the early to mid 20th century saw this dish make its way into the big cities.

It is now a staple in many restaurants when you order your mezze, or appetizers. Most families will have it when eating out; but it's not a popular dish to make at home.

Growing up, this definitely not a dish we had at home, or even when eating out in Egypt. It was quite off the radar for our family; on both sides to be honest.

But it was at the insistence of my cousins there that I try this dish. So I did. And not only that, I offered to my nine-month old baby who devoured it.

What to do with fava beans?

When springtime hits, the markets are chock-full of fresh fava beans. I've always been at a loss at what to do with them. But now.....now I can tap into my roots and whip out this golden number.

It's fresh, it's healthy, and it's very filling, so it's a great meal substitute if you're looking for something light.

The secret to making the flavours blend together beautifully is the tasha. The oil, similar to molokhia's taqliya, is a mix of chopped garlic, ground cumin, and ground coriander seeds. Together they make the blandest of fava beans shine.

The recipe I did uses fresh beans, but dried fava beans are just as easy to use, but they take time to prepare.

I will put in the recipe for both.

INGREDIENTS

500g of dried fava beans OR about 1kg of fresh fava beans

one onion (red or white)

a handful of:

fresh parsley
fresh dill
fresh coriander

tasha (seasoned oil):

2 tablespoons olive oil

4 crushed garlic cloves

1 teaspoon ground coriander seeds

1 teaspoon ground cumin

salt

DIRECTIONS

1. If you're using dried fava beans, soak them overnight, then strain, and then cook in salted water with half an onion cut into quarters for at least one hour, or until the beans are soft and cooked.

2. If you're using fresh fava beans, shell them and then cook them in salted water with half an ion cut into quarters for about 20 minutes (maybe less, depending on your stove), until beans are soft and cooked.

(freshly shelled beans)

(cooked beans)

3. Strain beans

4. In a large mixing bowl, add fresh herbs and cooked fava beans.

5. Blend using a food processor or hand blender.

6. In a small saucepan or pot, heat the olive oil and add the spices, while stirring until all the spices are incorporated, but make sure to avoid it from bubbling or burning. It needs to be hot, not boiling.

7. In a separate pan, slice the remaining onion and fry until golden.

8. With the pureed beans in a bowl, add the oil on top and the onions.

9. Serve with warmed pita bread and enjoy!

Egypt's rich rice: Roz Muammar

2022-12-18T01:45:00.001+01:00

After a recent trip to Egypt, this time to cover the completely transparent and good-willed COP27 conference...(my real thoughts here), I spent a week to explore a new area by the sea and some old hangouts in Cairo

This time a new dish fell into my lap. Though I do vaguely remember eating a variation of it growing up, but not in this form. At the insistence of my cousin, we ordered this dish for a friend who was visiting the country for the first time, so trying to show her all the culinary wonders the country has to offer.

Rice bling

They say if you've got it, flaunt it. That's pretty much what this dish is about. Roz me'ammar, also referred to as roz muammar means rice brought up to par in colloquial Egyptian dialect. The literal translation is rich. So a rich rice, or really rice living to its full potential thanks to its friends cream and milk.

The dish comes from the rich farming region of the Nile Delta, so the fertile area north of Cairo where the Nile eventually reaches the Mediterranean. Today, one of the most important crops it grows is rice. In fact, Egypt produces the most rice in North Africa using the Nile for irrigation. It produces enough rice for exportation and domestic use, making leaving the country 100% self-sufficient.

Although rice itself is not native to Egypt, it likely made its way into the country during the Greek occupation via expeditions of Alexander the Great, who imported the grain from India in the 4th century BC.

Celebration

The staple diet of Egyptian farmers has traditionally been simple, consisting of bread, aged cheeses, and pulses along with fresh vegetables. But rice has found its way into the mainstay of the rural household given it easy to store.

But during moments of economic hardships, roz muammar began to make its appearance given it made use of simple ingredients most households have lying around the house, as most farms also keep cows: cream, rice, milk. A hit of this high-caloric dish probably does wonders when the daily diet starts to go get meagre.

Today this dish is still cooked in the traditional clay pot, a beram, but is made for special occasions, such as a wedding.

Variations

The traditional dish is just rice and milk/cream. You can also use milk and butter, or just butter or just milk. Recent variations also include pieces of meat (beef, lamb, or chicken). But as I am a purist when it comes to making traditional dishes, this version is just rice, with thick cream and heavy cream.

If you are lactose-intolerant, I would suggest staying from it or loading up on the lactase.

RECIPE

Total cooking time: 1 hour

Yield: 4 persons

INGREDIENTS

2 cups short-grain rice

1 cup of heavy cream (or milk)

5-6 tablespoons of cream

1 tablespoon of salt (or to taste)

DIRECTIONS

1. Wash your rice! That means in warm water until the water runs clear.

2. In a clay dish (or any baking dish) add the washed rice.

3. Add heavy cream so that it just covers the rice.

4. Add the salt, mix, and taste.

5. Add the cream on top (do not mix)

6. Place dish in oven at 200C (400F) for about 30-40 minutes.

7. Dish is ready once the top has a nice golden crust and the rice is fully cooked.

Egypt's enchanting soup from the bird's tongue: Lesan al Asfour

2021-09-26T10:16:00.005+02:00

Let's just start this off right: this is not a meal about an actual bird's tongue.

This is simply the easiest and most comforting soup made with orzo pasta, also known as lesan al asfour. The shape of the pasta resembles a bird's tongue, hence the name.

It's one of those soups that doesn't require much, but when you put all the elements together, it's essentially a giant bear hug from the inside.

Comfort liquid food

When you're feeling sick, you sip on this, and all will be well again. You're feeling cold because it's that time in between seasons, take a bowl of this nourishing soup, and you're guaranteed to have forgotten the cold.

My mother would always make us this soup on the weekends. Our weekends were the stuff of dreams (no sarcasm here). Saturday morning cartoons, followed by an afternoon of chicken boiling with fragrant herbs and spices and, if we were lucky, a small pot of chicken livers stewing on the side. Later in the afternoon, we'd be called down for a snack, and this would be a bowl of soup, normally lesan al asfour and some liver to nibble on. BLISS!

Tante Lula's favourite

Fast forward a few decades later, and I'm roaming the house of my great aunt in Cairo. Tante Lula, known for her beauty and elegance, has a beautiful story about how her husband (who died years ago), fell madly in love with her after seeing her painted portrait in a gallery.

Unfortunately, growing up in Canada meant we didn't get to know her in her better days, though we heard all the stories. By the time I finally got a chance to make up for lost time, she was well into her 90s...but as feisty as ever.

She was suffering from mild health problems, mainly due to age. But my cousin, her daughter, continued to worry about her and supervise what she was eating. In addition to a weakness for sweets, particularly chocolates, Tante Lula, loved to smoke a cigarette. Of course, she was told not to. But despite all the neighbourhood stores being warned to NOT sell cigarettes to her, and despite her being quasi-immobile, she would sneak out during a 'nap', shuffle to the store, and buy herself a pack.

Always elegant in a flowing dress and her hair up, Tante Lula would sleep and traipse around the house with her favourite jewellery. Shiny rings, numerous necklaces, loud bracelets...she told me it kept her busy. And so she would make herself up and steal a cigarette and enjoy that precious moment before her next meal.

And that meal was almost always lesan al alsfour. The cook would always make sure there was a big pot of it in the kitchen, so on her days off, Tante Lula would be sure to have a bowl of it.

It's fair to say that soup is what kept her going for years until her time came to an end in 2020 (pre-Covid).

Origin of Orzo

Lesan al asfour, is actually a pasta hailing from Italy. Its real name is orzo, meaning barley in Italian, because it resembles the grain. The pasta itself is made from semolina flour.

Over the years, it has become a staple of cooking across Southern Europe and North Africa, and the Middle East. As one source notes, it can go by different names including "kritharaki, manestra, rosa marina, reiskornpasta, or pasto gallo".

The Italian community - which had been trickling into Egypt since the time of Napoleon I (1820s onwards), primarily in Alexandria - had nearly 55,000 people just before World War II, making the second largest immigrant community in the country.

Their cooking traditions and ingredients have over the years become intertwined with local Egyptian cuisine. Some of these have already been covered by me in earlier posts such as:

Macarona bil beshamel

Ma'sa ha

I'm giving you the recipe that includes a homemade broth; but you can use store-bought chicken broth or a vegetable-based one.

RECIPE

Total Preparation Time: 1 hour (including broth)

Yield: 4 bowls

INGREDIENTS:

Broth
1 whole chicken
1 onion peeled and quartered
salt / pepper
cinnamon stick

Soup

2 cups lesan al asfour/orzo dry

1 tablespoon butter

salt/pepper to taste

1/2 cup of milk (optional)

DIRECTIONS:

Broth
1. Add chicken, onions, salt, pepper, and cinnamon stick to pot.

2. Add enough water to cover chicken.

3. Leave to cook for about 90 minutes, or until chicken is well cooked and broth is flavourful.

Soup

4. Add butter to a soup pot

5. Once butter is melted add orzo

6. Keep stirring until the majority of the orzo has turned golden brown.

7. Add just enough broth to cover the pasta

8. Leave to cook; the orzo will swell-up.

9. If you like a more liquidy soup, add a bit more broth, or add milk.

*This recipe was featured on Twinkl, an international educational publisher

Rebirth of The Egyptian Kitchen

2020-12-29T19:30:00.001+01:00

It's been 11 years that I've been running this blog. While some may have used the namesake 'The Egyptian Kitchen' for their own uses....*ahem.....the blog has remained here and a testament to the need for an Egyptian recipe blog.

Why?

Well Egypt makes headlines for a lot of reasons, but rarely for its rich culinary tradition.

But Egyptian cuisine puts pragmatism at the centre of its cooking. It's one element that you'll find across the country among the people. Egyptians are famously or notoriously pragmatic. Something is broken, you find a way to fix it; it may not be pretty but it works. Same with our cooking. It's not dolled up like dishes from Lebanon, or with the sophistication of the Turks.

But they are wholesome, easy to make and above all, packed with taste and history. So on this occasion of marking 10 years of providing you with recipes and history and stories, I am doing a little remodelling.

Do let me know what you think!! What's missing? What's needed?

And I'll step it up as we enter 2021 with more recipes to keep you going.

Egypt's best kept secret for sponge cake

2020-04-26T13:17:00.003+02:00

Ah ha! I bet you all thought I'd never write again, or that I had run out of recipes. Well, perhaps more likely the latter. But the truth is life has been in the way for the past two years (almost exactly to the day). Added to that is the fact that I really wasn't inspired by many of the recipes in my collection. I went to Egypt a few times in between, and found a few things....but nothing felt worthy enough to share with you.

That being said, today is day ? (I've lost count) of our lockdown in France and worldwide. And I'm sure many of you are killing time by sharpening your culinary skills, so why not make cake? As Marie Antoinette famously said: "let them eat cake".

And so we shall.

*Just a warning, the recipe for this cake is for an army, so might be good to cut it in half if you're worried about finishing it.

THE LEGACY OF SAMIRA

Now sponge cake does not exactly convey images of the sun-drenched country of pyramids as the warm breeze of the nile blows the desert sands around. This recipe is actually a well-known one in our family made famous by my maternal grandmother Samira, or Tante Ri-Ri as she was affectionately called.

None of us in our generation ever met her, but her legacy lives on as one of the best cooks, bakers and illustrators (she used to illustrate children's books) and photographer (she and her husband apparently dabbled in this).

My two maternal first cousins are the ones who brought this cake to my attention. And after a video baking show-and-tell that spanned three countries, I now have THE recipe! Thankfully my aunt was on the other line guiding the prepartion of the cake. The ingredients are simple. My grandmother used to add cinnamon for flavour, or you can add lemon peel/juice or whatever you want. I opted for a chocolate topping; a favourite recipe from my paternal aunt.

ON THE HOT TRAIL OF SPONGE CAKE

But sponge cake? Again, how is it a family recipe in Egypt? Let's look at the origins of sponge cake.

I'll be the first to admit, it's not Egyptian or Middle Eastern in its character, I mean there's no butter..and just about everything has some butter base in the desserts.

According to Bakerpedia, a site that has all kinds of rare facts on baked goods, sponge cake was born during the Renaissance age in Italy. Italian cooks baked these sponge 'biscuits' which spread across the territory (Italy wasn't yet united) and then through England and France.

It was only in 1615 when the recipe itself was recorded by the English poet and author Gervase Markham. Up until this point however, the cake really looked more like a cookie: thin and crispy.

During the mid-18th century was when the idea of beating the eggs became part of the process and that in turn created a spongy batter. When baked, the airy batter turns into a raised cake without any other ingredients. And hello, sponge cake as we know it happened.

SPONGE CAKE IN EGYPT

Fast forward to our friends the English colonialists as of 1882, and the growing Italian community that followed from that time up until the end of the Second World War, and we have two communities from where the sponge cake likely originated.

Many Egyptian families have these European recipes lurking in their repertoire: sponge cake, petit four (shortbread cookies), or bâton salé (breadsticks) to name a few. But over time, they have become egyptianised and passed down generation generation. And so this is ours.

__________________________________

Total preparation time: 20 minutes

Total baking time: 30 - 50 minutes (depends on your oven)

Yield: 10

INGREDIENTS:
9 eggs
2 cups of sugar
2 cups of flour

CHOCOLATE SAUCE (optional)
1/2 cup sweetened baking chocolate
1 tablespoon milk
2 teaspoons of rum (or liquor of your choice)

___________________________________

DIRECTIONS:

1. Heat oven to 350F/175C

2. Crack all the eggs into a large bowl

3. Whip until colour turns light

4. Add sugar

5. Mix some more until batter is fluffy looking and airy

6. Fold in flour slowly into batter, taking care to keep the foaminess of the batter

7. Add batter into a non-stick pan or lightly grease pan with butter

8. Bake.
9. Try to not open oven AT ALL during baking, to allow the sponginess of the cake to form.

10. When ready, the knife should come out clean in the centre of cake

Chocolate sauce (optional)

1. Melt chocolate
2. Add milk (or cream) and rum
3. Mix until a thick sauce

Egypt's magical bean: Ful Nabet and Shorbit Ful Nabet (sprouted bean and sprouted bean soup)

2018-03-05T13:42:00.003+01:00

The cold spell that we've been having here in France has come to an end, but it doesn't mean that warm soups aren't still on the menu!

I'd be lying if I said I just whipped up a batch of this soup....in fact I've been waiting for months it seems to share this recipe with everyone: shorbit ful nabet, or sprouted bean soup.

Ful nabet

Now ful nabet, or quite simply sprouted bean is a snack. And while you may not think to order it somewhere, you'll often find it just lying around when you order drinks or accompanying a bowl of nuts. And then you can't stop. The tanginess of the lemon juice mixed with the salt and the crunch of the bean lightly dusted in cumin...and before you know it you've eaten the whole bowl. I'll also give the recipe for this snack.

Many of the bean culinary traditions in Egypt go back to the days of the pharaohs and then the Copts who are often switching between vegan fasts and normal eating. So the ful mudammas , perhaps the falafel (depending on which story you follow), red lentil soup, brown lentil soup, are all examples of staples still going strong amongst Egyptians, particularly among the Coptic communities.

Snacks

My paternal grandmother was known to snack on ful nabet during certain fasts when she technically was trying to stay away from animal products, or was trying to lose a little weight. But we didn't have it in our household growing up. So I never paid much attention to it. But during my last trip to Egypt in September, a bowl of it was just casually set out on the table, and I began to find it at certain cafes and bars and so began the obsession.

Not a family tradition...

The ful nabet soup is something we never had in the family, but it is a thing. And it's a big thing in the smaller villages where tradition is still very much intact. One book which I picked up, called 'Cairo Kitchen' (as an fyi, my name the Egyptian Kitchen came first...but who's keeping track), notes in her recipe for ful nabet soup that large pots of it are made on special occasions and are given out to friends and family.

Whether you're making the soup or just the beans, this has to be prepared in advance as the bean needs to sprout, hence the sprouted bean. You need at least five to six days to let the beans sprout. But once they're done, the rest is easy and barely no time is needed for cooking.

Ful hammam vs broad bean

Now when it comes to the bean, there's always confusion: the broad bean or the ful hammam bean. This recipe is the broad bean. The same one used for the falafel.

So it's bigger and meatier inside, but it also has the distinct black mark on the front. You need the dry variety for this recipe. The other ful bean is the one used in the ful mudammas.

Ancient bubble gum

My recipe for the soup also calls for mastic grains. Mastic is the original chewing gum, it's the resin from the tree that comes from the Greek island of Chios. The ancient Greeks revered it for its medicinal properties.

Through trade it made its way into Middle Eastern cooking and a few Egyptian recipes do use it. It has a slightly pine taste to it. Now if you can get some, fantastic. If not, don't sweat it. Most people don't have this lying around the house. But if you want to find it, try Middle Eastern or Greek supermarkets.

RECIPE

Total preparation time: 5 days (for beans)
Total cooking time: 30 minutes (for soup)

Yield: 4 persons

INGREDIENTS:
500g dried broad fava beans

SNACK:
1-2 teaspoons ground cumin
lemon juice
salt

SOUP:
1 onion
olive oil (or any cooking oil)
1 tablespoon cumin seeds
3-4 grains of mastic (if you have)

salt to taste
3 cloves garlic
1 fresh chili (optional)
1.5 litres water (or chicken stock)
fresh coriander
1 lemon cut into wedges
dried pita (optional)

DIRECTIONS:

BEANS
1. Place the dry fava beans in a shallow bowl
2. Add just enough water to cover the beans
3. Cover with a damp towel and leave in a cool place
4. Change the water daily
5. Once beans have begun to sprout, rinse and drain before using

FUL NABET
6. Boil beans in water and salt for one to two hours (test along the way)
7. Mix beans with cumin
8. Add a pinch of salt
9. Squeeze some lemon juice
10. Adjust salt and lemon to taste

FUL NABET CHOBRA (SOUP)
11. Add cumin seeds to a hot and dry frying pan
12. While constantly stirring the seeds, roast them until they turn a golden brown colour
13. Take off heat
14. Chop onion and add to a big pot with some oil and mastic grains if you have them
15. Saute the onion until soft
16. Add water, garlic, salt and chili (if using) to the pot
17. Add the toasted cumin and beans
18. Turn down heat and leave to simmer for 25 to 30 minutes
19. If you want pita chips, cut and fry them in salt and oil
20. Serve soup with fresh coriander leaves, some pita chips and a squeeze of lemon

Egypt: Beat the heat with Karkade (hibiscus)

2017-08-11T18:38:00.003+02:00

It's summer time here in the northern hemisphere. Though you wouldn't know it as I write this wrapped in layers of warmth. But that doesn't mean one can't enjoy a summer drink in honour of the season.

Karkade (pr: kar-ka-day), or hibiscus, is a popular drink across Egypt and also in neighbouring Sudan, where it is simply referred to as Sudanese tea by most east Africans. In the middle of a hot day, when you're dying for a drink, a cool, tart and refreshing karkade juice is the perfect thing.

But what is Karkade you ask? It's a juice or tea made from hibiscus flower petals. And given the hibiscus flower grows readily in the hot climate, it's the one the drink you can always count on.

Depending on who makes it, the sweetening may push you into a diabetic coma, or may just be the right amount. But luckily this is a drink that can easily be watered down if it's too sweet for your liking; just make sure the host who offered you the drink doesn't see you in the act of dilution.

The same drink, called bissap, is also found in West Africa, namely in Senegal, which is where hibiscus is also grown now, along with Mali. Perhaps the flower made its way over there through trade in the Sahara? Or perhaps the nomadic Peul or Fula people, who are thought to originate from East Africa but crossed the desert, brought along karkade.

There are numerous hibiscus varieties. According to my research the original eight come from Mauritius, Madagascar, China, India, and Fiji.

But the one grown in Egypt and west Africa is of the Hibiscus Sabdariffa variety.

Outside the African continent, karkade is used differently. The flor de Jamaica, as hibiscus is called in the Carribbean and South American countries, is drunk as a tea but not only made from the petals. In China, the petals are eaten. And in India, the petals are boiled and the water is made into a syrup which is poured over ice.

But since the days of ancient Egypt, karkade has been made into a beverage to mark a special occasion.

If you have never tried it, I would say it's just like sipping cranberry juice, in terms of colour and tartness. But it's not nearly as tart which is why it's easy to drink and feels refreshing.

Growing up in Canada, it's not something we had access to, so while I had always heard about it, I only got to finally taste it during my first trip to Egypt as a teenager and was hooked from that moment on.

None of my trips in Egypt are complete without karkade overload. And when I found it in Senegal, I was the happiest person around. Imagine being able to drink such a random drink on both sides of the continent!

Unlike most of the fresh juices you can get in Egypt at the stands around the cities, karkade is not one of them; simply because it has to be made in advance.

As my mother explained, growing up in Egypt in the pre-globalism era, there were few options in terms of cold beverages at home. So you often had water, orange juice, coca cola, lemonade and karkade.

It is easy to find. Any restaurant will serve it and likely so will a cafe. There's also the karkade man who will walk around with a giant glass jar strapped to him yelling "karkade!!!" but it might be safer for your first time to stick with the restaurant version.

Karkade itself was always revered for its medicinal properties, namely regulating blood pressure, being a diuretic and being high in vitamin C.

In fact, among Egyptian thinking (not necessarily logical), cold karkade will lower your blood pressure while hot karkade will increase it. The lowering your blood pressure bit stands...the other, I'm doubtful. But that's just me. Outside of Egypt, sipping hibiscus tea is recommended for those with high blood pressure.

But apart from being a refreshing drink, it also has some status. At big celebrations where alcohol may not be available, karkade makes an appearance, such as weddings, or when you're paying a visit to someone at home. Even now, in the hotels, they will also serve guests a glass as a 'welcome to egypt' gesture. Either way, if you're offered a glass, take it!

You can't, however buy it as a juice to go. But making it at home is super easy and you don't have to fuss around with too many measurements. That being said, you need a bit of time. While you can technically make it in just a few minutes, I would strongly suggest you let it soak much longer; that way you get the best flavour.

As I mentioned earlier, Egyptians (and pretty much anywhere across Africa) make it sickingly sweet. If I was still five years old, I'd be all over that; but I'm not. So doing it at home means you can adjust the sweetness level. I even use honey instead of sugar, since it too has some benefits and does not alter the flavour.

If you make it as a tea, you can steep it for just a few minutes, or heat up a batch from what you've made.

The juice only requires dried hibiscus petals and water. And a sweetener of your choice.

You can find hibiscus petals in any african or middle eastern supermarket. I haven't checked myself, but you should also be able to find it in asian supermarkets as well.

_______________________________________________

Preparation time: five minutes
Steeping time: one hour to 12 hours
Yields: two bottles (750 ml)

INGREDIENTS:

6 cups of water
2 hand fulls of hibiscus petals
honey or sugar

DIRECTIONS:

1. Boil water
2. In a big salad bowl or pot, add hibiscus petals

3. Add boiling water

4. Cover to steep as long as possible (I leave it overnight)

5. Strain petals and add in sweetener of choice (add as much as or as little as you want)

6. Once the sweetener has dissolved, fill up your bottles or jugs and keep in the fridge.

7. Because this is fresh and you have added a sweetener, make sure to drink it within a week, or it will ferment (also tasty, but not the point)

Egypt's way to always eat your greens: 'Olass wa sal' - taro root with swiss chard

2017-04-05T18:55:00.004+02:00

I've been trying to chase down this recipe for months now. Though I ate it back in 2010 for the first time during Christmas dinner in Cairo. I thought it was molokhia, a green soup made from the fresh leaves of the molokhia plant. Not at all, though the spicing is similar.

I was told it was 'olass. And that it is normally eaten on special occasions, like Christmas. But after some research between both sides of the family, and my Arabic tutor, turns out everyone eats 'olass all the time and its a favourite dish of most households.

We never had it at home. When I asked my mother the reason, without missing a beat she scrunched up her face and explained "I hate that dish, I never liked to eat it". And hence a childhood deprived of taro root.

My aunt on the other hand reminisced with my father on this and said my grandmother made this dish often, but couldn't remember how. My father had little recollection of liking or disliking it, which means it wasn't a favourite, but it was tolerated as part of the usual repertoire of weekly meals. In his own words it's good, but "it's no molokhia".

But what is it?

It's taro root cut into chunks, boiled in water then thrown into a mix of swiss chard and spices.

That's it.

It's not a dish, however, that you'll find in restaurants or on the streets. It's really at home that this is eaten. And the prime time for this dish among Christian households is especially during epiphany, which comes at the end of Christmas.

If you want to get into religion, it's the time when Jesus was baptized, i.e. plunged under water for purification purposes. So the idea of eating taro, which has to be boiled in water before it's edible (fun fact: raw taro contains calcium oxaltate, which will make your mouth go numb, so raw taro is in fact toxic), is representative of Jesus's baptism. In fact there's a little rhyme my aunt said would often be heard by children around that time of year: "eid el ghotass, yakul 'olass" that literally translates into "at festival of epiphany, one eats taro". Clever,

Taro makes the rounds

But taro is eaten in all households, regardless of religion.

The root itself grows in Egypt after it spread via cultivation from its origins somewhere in India. Taro itself is a popular root found in many African dishes and with the trans-Atlantic slave trade, made its way into the Americas, where taro is also popular in many Caribbean and South American countries.

The true name of taro is coloccasia, and in arabic 'qulqass'. And then in Egypt, because we shorten words when possible, it's known as 'olass, or 'ulass.

Eat your greens

Swiss chard, or in arabic "salq" or sal' in egyptian arabic, grounds the taro root to a tasty base. Swiss chard, is often referred to as 'silverbeet' or 'whitebeet' because it is related to the beet family. The Swiss adjective comes from a Swiss botanist who studied the plant.

But the plant itself is native to the southern Mediterranean region, namely Sicily, but according to articles I consulted, Aristotle apparently mentions it in his writing, so it has a place in ancient Greek history as well. Swiss chard likely found its way into Egypt via the Ancient Greeks or the Romans later on. Either way, the plant itself is not native to Egypt, but it thrives there now.

It's a treat

And after all my extensive research, it was my cousin (an amazing cook) who sent me THE recipe. It's likely a mix of our family's traditional one coupled with her ingenious additions.

So you're in for a treat.

*Bear in mind that this recipe is using a chicken broth; but you can easily go fully vegetarian and use a vegetable-based one.

RECIPE

Total cooking time: 1.5 hours
Yield: four persons

INGREDIENTS:

7-9 taro roots

1 head of Swiss chard

1 handful of fresh coriander leaves
1 handful of fresh dill

1 tablespoon of oil
5 cloves of garlic
2 teaspoons of ground coriander seed
1 tablespoon of butter
2 cups of broth (chicken/vegetable)
salt

DIRECTIONS

1. Peel the taro

2. Chop into cubes

3. Add taro cubes into a pot of salted and boiling water
4. Leave to cook on medium heat for about 20 minutes (until taro is soft)
5. While taro is cooking, chop Swiss chard into small strips

6. Chop up dill and fresh coriander
7. Chop up garlic
8. In a pan, add oil and sauté half the amount of chopped garlic along with all of the Swiss chard, dill and fresh coriander
8. Add a bit of salt to flavour
9. Continue stirring greens until they are soft and have significantly reduced in size

10. Take off heat

Taqliya:

11. In a separate pan, add ground coriander and dry roast it until it starts to change colour
12. Take off heat and add butter and remaining garlic
13. Continue to stir on low heat until the coriander/garlic mix has absorbed all the butter.

14. Drain taro root and set aside
15. In a pot, or blender, add one to two ladles of broth to the chard mix and purée it
16. Add pureed chard mix to a pot and add another 9-10 ladles of broth

18. Consistency should be thick soup
19. Cook slowly on low heat and add cooked taro and taqliya mix
20. Leave to cook on low heat for 10 minutes (do not let it boil)
21. Serve with rice

Egyptian pickled eggplants, Betengam Milkhalil: fastest way to make friends

2016-10-09T17:33:00.001+02:00

Would you believe I've had this recipe ready for months now? T'is true...but life and likely laziness got the best of me.

But here we go.

Today's recipe is so simple to make it hurts, but if you can't stomach spicy (i.e.hot chili), then you'll have to sit this one out.

Egyptian cooking is by no means spicy. In fact, the spiciest it normally gets comes from lots of garlic, or up north in Alexandria, where chilies sometimes create a more punchy ful madammas.

But by comparison to our other north African neighbours, who came up with Harissa (red chili paste), our cuisine is far from hot and spicy.

Except for this wondrous condiment.

My mother used to make this for us as children. It wasn't one of those items we knew she was making, or even asked about, but you would open the fridge and see the these little eggplants glistening in their juices and bursting at the seams with chili and garlic. And the smell.....oooo such a smell that you'd have to eat one then and there.

First bite. Heaven. Then five seconds later, it hits you. All that garlic and chili...but the subtle eggplant to balance it out and give it an underlying sweetness is what made you come back for more. But this time armed with a hunk of bread.

And so it goes. And that's how we had pickled eggplants. As a side dish with your meal, as you would with some olives, or in sandwiches for some extra kick Or I now add it to salads for some punch.

In Egypt, you'll find this as an extra condiment that you would normally add to any meal for some additional kick. It's not terribly popular....or not that I've noticed, but it's common enough that most people know about it.

I've discussed before the origins of eggplant or betengam in arabic. You can read about it here: http://abissadacooks.blogspot.fr/2010/03/dinner-masa-ha-moussaka.html

In this particular recipe, it's best if you can find the baby eggplants or the small ones (the size of a finger). But they are not easy to find, so I've adjusted this recipe to be used with regular fat ones.

But ideally the small ones are best since you can slice the open and stuff them.

Now as I mentioned earlier, chilies or hot peppers do not play a major role in Egyptian cooking. But they are readily found across other North African countries. How did they worm their way into Egypt? Easy: the Ottomans.

Chilies were first cultivated in Mexico as far back as 7000 B.C, but it wasn't until our friend Christopher Colombus, who encountered them during his voyages in the Americas, brought them over to Spain at the end of the fifteenth century. The Portuguese then took them over to India, Asia, and Africa which were then was picked up by the Ottomans. With Egypt being a province in the Ottoman empire, and with much of its innovative cuisine being centralised out of Istanbul, the use of chilies eventually made their way into Egyptian homes.

I initially thought it would have been via the Moors after they took over Spain in the early 700s, but that would have been before the Americas were discovered, and thus no chilies in sight to be brought over.

As for the pickled eggplants, try to make them a night in advance, so they have time to soak in the flavours.

_________________________________________________________

Total cooking time: 1 hour
Yield: six plus people

INGREDIENTS:

4 large eggplants OR 15 small eggplants
1/2 cup olive oil (if using regular eggplant)
3 tablespoons chopped garlic
3 tablespoons chopped green chili
white vinegar
salt

DIRECTIONS:

Regular Eggplants
1. Keep the skin on and cut into round slices
2. Cut the slices into halves
3. Place the halves onto a baking sheet and brush each side with olive oil and a pinch of salt and pepper

4. Place in the oven under grill, until both sides are cooked (around 10 - 15 mins)
5. When done, place eggplant in bowl and add chopped garlic and chili
6. Add a tablespoon of vinegar
7. A pinch of salt
8. Mix and taste. Mixture should be the consistency of a relish
9. If too vinegary tasting, add a dash of olive oil

10. Cover bowl and let set overnight (in fridge or on counter top)

Baby eggplants
5. Boil the eggplants in salty water until soft in the middle
6. Remove from water and slice a small hole in each one
7. In a separate bowl, add chili and garlic with a tablespoon of vinegar and a pinch of salt
8. Mix and taste; mixture should be the consistency of a relish
9. Place eggplants in a bowl and stuff each with one the mixture
10. Add remaining mixture into bowl
11. Cover and let set overnight (in fridge or counter top)

Stuffing cabbage Egyptian style: Maashi Kromb

2015-10-19T01:28:00.004+02:00

Aaaaaaaaaand nearly a year later, and here I am writing up my first recipe for 2015. I did work on other recipes, but none of them were worthy of this blog, so I finally came across a great recipe during my visit a few weeks ago to Egypt: Maashi Kromb, or stuffed (maashi) cabbage (kromb) in arabic.

I was having lunch with my cousin and she said this was her favourite dish. I've never been a huge stuffed cabbage fan, having only tried the Eastern European variation...so I tried to hide my glimmer of enthusiasm, until I bit into one. Wow. It was amazing. And, unlike all the other maashi dishes I've written up about, the stuffing for this one is without meat (though you can add some if you really want).

After eating this, I found the woman responsible for the meal, the hired help in the house: Umm Mohammed (or Mother of Mohammed, as tradition dictates). I found her in the kitchen and told her it was one of the best meals I've had and asked for her recipe. She was a bit overwhelmed with the sudden attention, since she prepares the main meals every day, but after a bit coaxing, Umm Mohammed got down to business and gave me the details.

But cabbage in Egypt you ask? Actually, good question. I asked myself the same thing and in fact, contrary to what I had originally thought, cabbage has a long history in egyptian cooking. Wild cabbage is a native of the mediterranean, southwestern europe and southern england. All variations thrive along the ocean, where it can receive lots of moisture. So our friends, the Ancient Egyptians, considered cabbage to be one of the most delicate vegetables, and ate it boiled before the rest of their food.

During a visit to ancient Egypt, the Greeks believed their cabbage was superior to that of the Egyptian variety, so they brought along seeds with them from Rhodes. They revered cabbage for its medicinal properties.

All that to say cabbage does in fact have a place in Egyptian cuisine, and it dates back to the ancient times.

But of course, now, it's more of a question how it is eaten.

As I've mentioned before, egyptians will stuff any vegetable or animal cavity with rice. Hence my previous recipes for stuffed pigeon, stuffed peppers, and stuffed grapeleaves. But this recipe is a rice mixture with dill, parlsely and tomatos.

The tomatos we know came from the new world via the explorers to Egypt.

Rice has been eaten and grown in Egypt since the days of the Pharaohs since it grows in the country.

Dill weed is a member of the parsley family which is native to the eastern Mediterranean region (and western Asia). According to one article I read, the word 'dill' comes from the old Norse (old german) word 'dylla' meaning to soothe or lull, which was found written around 3000 B.C. where it was also mentioned in Egyptian medical texts.

So dill is widely used and historically for centuries.

Parsley, is a native of eastern Mediterranean countries. It isn't used as much as other herbs in Egyptian cooking. It was likely brought to Egypt by the ancient Romans who may have been the first people to eat parsley. Whereas the Greeks only used parsley for medicinal purposes, as they viewed it with superstition considering it an omen of death.

But it does grow around the mediterranean basin, and was introduced to the new world during the heydays of trade.

Parsely-based foods, such as taboulah are more from the Levante region where parsley is more popular.

But back to maashi kromb.....I won't lie, this is one of the few dishes that takes time to prepare and cook, but it's not an overly complicating recipe. But all the effort is worth it in the end!

______________________________________________
TOTAL PREPARATION TIME: two hours
TOTAL COOKING TIME: one hour
YIELD: 10 persons

INGREDIENTS:
1 head white cabbage
salt
water

Stuffing:
1 onion
1 teaspoon of oil
2 tomatos
2 handfulls of parsley (fresh)
1 handful of dill (fresh)
equal parts of rice to the mixture of short grain rice (italian or egyptian)
salt/pepper

Sauce:
2 tins of tomato concentrate
2 cups of water
1 garlic
1 onion
salt/pepper
_____________________________________________

DIRECTIONS

CABBAGE:
1. Cut the cabbage in half peel back each individual leaf

2. This process can take time....
3. Once you have your individual leaves, place them in a pot of boiling water with a tablespoon of salt
4. Leave them to cook for about an hour, until all the leaves have turned transparent and are soft in texture
5. Drain and put aside

STUFFING

6. Chop onion and sauté it with a bit of oil until it is cooked
7. In a bowl, add cooked onion, parsley and dill, and chopped tomatos

8. Using a chopper (or a blender) blend all ingredients

9. Add an equal part of rice (approximately--does not have to be perfectly measured)
10. Wash the rice then add to the mix
11. Add salt and pepper
12. Mix thoroughly by hand or with a spoon

SAUCE
13. In a pot, add a tablespoon of oil
14. Chop onions and add to pot
15. Crush and finely chop garlic; add to pot
16. Once onions are cooked, add tomato paste
17. Add water
18. Mix well; if sauce seems too thick, add a bit more water
19. Season with salt/pepper

ROLLING
20. Take a cooked cabbage leaf, add about one teaspoon of the mixture, and fold and roll
21. Unlike grapeleaves cabbage leaves are a bit harder to fold nicely, but don't worry, they stay put during the cooking process.
22. Continue process until either all the leaves are done or all the mixture is done

23. Add all the rolled leaves into a deep pot and cover with sauce

24. Leave covered and on medium heat to cook for at least an hour (or longer)
25. Rolls are ready to eat once rice is cooked

Shakshuka your way to Egyptian eggs poached in spicy tomato sauce

2014-11-23T14:49:00.003+01:00

This is probably one of the most popular recipes across North Africa and especially in Israel. In my goal to only post Egyptian recipes I consistently refused to do this one dish, until, I found out: it's also popular in Egypt.

Shakshuka. or Shakshouka. I know you've all heard of it, and have likely tasted it too. It's Arabic slang for 'a mixture', or as one entry that I found said, it comes from the Berber word 'chakchouka' meaning a vegetable stew. Or even beyond that, there's thought that the name comes from the Hebrew verb 'leshakshek' which means to shake. But since Hebrew and Arabic are both Semitic languages, then I'll combine the two and translate it to: a shaken mixture.

In any case, it was a friend of mine who continuously told me of his memories of Israel and eating shakshuka for breakfast. The poached eggs in a tomato sauce that boasted layers of complementary spicing served with fresh pita bread. I resisted.

Not because it didn't sound appealing, but as I mentioned I'm trying to focus on Egypt. But then he sent me a recipe for this dish. I figured why not. So one cold morning, I prepared it. And yes, I was hooked. I think I ate it for three or four days straight. I was so proud of my new discovery that I called my mother to tell her the good news. Before I had told her what the dish was called, she stopped me: "shakshuka? my mother made that all the time for me!"

Apparently my mother may have been a bit of a 'difficult' daughter and refused to eat meat. In an effort to stem any quarrels regarding meals, my grandmother would prepare shakshuka only for my mother so she too would have something delicious to eat. And that's how the meal got its prominence in that part of my family.

After that, I asked other members of the family and they all nodded in agreement and confirmed to me that shakshuka is a popular dish as well, maybe not as popular as in Israel, or in the Maghreb, but definitely worthy of an entry.

But where did it come from? In Israel, it's thought to have come from either Libyan or Tunisian Jews. So then north Africa really is the origin of the dish. Over in Morocco, it's an egg tomato tagine, in Algeria it's called 'tchaktchouka' or 'tastira' by the Algerian Jews. In Libya it can be served with merguez sausage or dried lamb. And in Tunisia, it's similar to the recipe I'll be sharing with you.

There are variations from country-to-country in the spicing, but the spices I am using are cumin, paprika and cinnamon.

Just like tomatoes, paprika is a 'new world' spice from the Americas brought over by European tradesmen during the days of exploration. It's derived from sweet red peppers. It's not as spicy as the hot pepper; but instead introduces a sweeter heat.

Because of the Spanish explorers, many dishes in Spain have paprika. Given the proximity and mixing of cultures between Morocco and Spain, paprika was likely brought over to North Africa via migration, but also through trade between the Mediterranean countries. All that to say, paprika likely made its way into Egypt via other North African countries, since there are not many Egyptian dishes that use this spice.

Cumin is native to the Mediterranean and is found in many Egyptian recipes, as is cinnamon, and dates back to 2000 BC and was used by the Pharaohs.

As for the dish itself, it's hard to know how far back its history goes. It can't be too far back, since the base is tomato which, as I mentioned, is not native to the Mediterranean countries. Likely someone began making it in one of the Maghreb countries (Morocco/Tunisia/Algeria/Libya), and through traffic between the North African countries, found a home in Egypt.

In keeping with simplicity, I'm not doing it the way that many of the cool kids are doing it: served in an iron skillet. It's a meal that is prepared and cooked in under 30 minutes, uses common ingredients in the house, and should be a no-sweat process. Meaning: not fancy, just tasty.

The key to making it really tasty is serving it with some fresh pita. My grandmother would add parsley at the end to give it just an extra layer of flavour, some people add feta which is also a nice addition.

____________________________________________

Total preparation and cooking time: 30 minutes

Yield: 4 persons

INGREDIENTS:

1 onion - diced

5 cloves of garlic - chopped

(optional) 1 hot green pepper, or jalapeno- chopped

olive oil

1 can (500g) of whole plum tomatoes (or homemade stewed tomatoes)

1 tablespoon - ground cumin

1/2 tablespoon - paprika

1 teaspoon - ground cinnamon

water

fresh eggs

salt to taste

fresh parsley

_______________________________________________

DIRECTIONS

1. In a deep frying pan or pot, add enough olive oil to cover pan, then add onions, garlic and hot peppers

2. Sauté until onions are soft

3. Take pan momentarily off heat source

4. Add the canned tomatoes to the pan, but break up each tomato by crushing it with your hand

5. Add all the spices

6. Using the empty can of tomatoes (more flavour), add water so it is about half full

7. Add some of this water to to the pan so that the sauce is just a little runny, but not like a juice

8. Return to heat source and stir

9. Cover if possible, but if you can't, then just leave the pan on low heat stirring occasionally until the sauce is a little thicker and bubbling slightly

10. Try not to let the sauce boil too much; otherwise it could burn

11. After about 10-15 minutes, check on the sauce, if it is noticeably thicker then you can add eggs

12. Crack how ever many eggs you want into a separate bowl then pour each egg into a different area in the sauce

13. Leave the egg until it is cooked to your preference (ideally a bit runny on the inside).

14. Serve with some freshly cut parsley and bread

Food of the gods: Sherkaseya/Sharkaseya, aka Circassian walnut chicken

2014-07-13T11:45:00.008+02:00

Oh sweet mother of god is this dish amazing. I have been wanting to make it for a few years now. And I finally did it, and not only did I realise that it tastes just as wonderful as I remembered it, BUT it's also a lot easier than expected to make. Unfortunately the photo of the final dish (above) is one I took from a while ago, so not as good as I'd like...but you get the idea. I had recent ones but they didn't work out, so I will add new ones once I cook it again.

But circassian you ask? Ah yes....

During a visit to Egypt, I strayed away from our usual go-to restaurants and came across a few memorable ones. One in particular had this dish on its menu. We all tried it and couldn't get enough of this dish.

I then began to notice it on other menus. What really made it click for me though in terms of its place in Egyptian cuisine was while I was reading Naguib Mahfouz's Cairo Trilogy. In the first book, set during the late teens early twenties in Egypt of the 20th century, the reader is brought to the home of a typical, muslim family living in Cairo.

Without turning this into a literature review entry, one of the sons is married off to a woman from a very 'respectable' family, in that she is of Turkish descent, and thus lighter in colour, more European features, and ultimately privy to the culinary recipes of her people. While her mother-in-law is not so much a fan of her, she manages to win over the household with her Circassian Chicken meal...a dinner that ordinary Egyptians rarely get to taste in their lifetime, yet alone in their own home.

How Circassia met Egypt

How did Circassian walnut chicken enter the repertoire of Egyptian cuisine you ask? Simple. The Ottomans.

Let's not forget that Egypt was under Ottoman rule for nearly 400 years. And the Ottoman empire stretched as far east to the Caspian sea, which included the region of Circassia. In fact, the region was well-known for its beautiful women, many of whom were married to the Ottoman Sultans and Persian Shahs.

Walnuts themselves, originate from Persia, so it's easy to see how the nut got swept into regional cuisines.

When the Ottomans took over Egypt, many of its influences soon became part of Egyptian culture, including the food. As with other recipes I've written about, this is one of the ones that is not rooted in traditional and local ingredients, but it has a big place in terms of historical and cultural significance.

Blank stares

I asked around my family for a proper recipe for this dish, and either I got blank stares or warnings of how difficult it would be to prepare. Meh...I found a recipe and modified it to the taste I remember and through research in terms of its ingredients.

Many of the recipes I came across did call for mastic: arabic gum that originates from the greek island of Chios, but found its way to Egypt since the Pharaonic times. When used in cooking, it gives a pine-tree flavour.

I opted to not include mastic in this recipe because it's hard to find in stores, and is not an ingredient most people will have readily available in their homes. Also, I don't think the pine-tree flavour adds much to this recipe.

It's a dish that can be prepared in a relatively short amount of time, and keeps for a few days afterwards. So don't worry too much if the portions seems large. You can either cut the recipe in half, or eat it, for a long time.

RECIPE

Total preparation and cooking time: 2 hours
Yield: 10 persons

INGREDIENTS:

Broth
whole chicken
2 tablespoons ground garlic (or 3 cloves of garlic)
2 onions peeled and quartered
salt / pepper
cinnamon stick
water to cover chicken

Sauce
2.5 cups of shelled walnuts (not ground)
1/3 cup flour
2 teaspoons of ground allspice
broth from chicken

DIRECTIONS:

Broth
1. Add chicken, ground garlic, onions, salt, pepper, and cinnamon stick to pot.

2. Add enough water to cover chicken.

3. Leave to cook for about 90 minutes, or until chicken is well cooked and broth is flavourful.

Sauce
4. While chicken is cooking, ground allspice if you have whole grains.

5. Add flour to a dry frying pan on medium-high heat.

6. Keep stirring flour to avoid from burning.

7. Once flour starts to change colour, add ground allspice.

8. Continue to keep stirring until spice mixture changes colour to a light brown.

9. Take off heat and set aside.

10. In a food processor or large bowl, add flour/allspice mixture.

11. Add walnuts.

12. Add one cup of broth to begin with.

13. Purée mixture until it is fully blended and has a creamy texture.

14. Keep adding small amounts of broth until you get the texture of a creamy sauce.

15. Once sauce is done, set aside.

16. Take off all of the meat from the chicken, taking sure to avoid any bones or cartilage.

Serving

17. In a large serving bowl, add all the chicken pieces.

18. Add sauce on top of chicken and mix.

19. Serve chicken and sauce with rice and some cooked greens or salad.

20. Enjoy!

Fiteer your way to Egypt's pizza

2013-11-12T14:51:00.001+01:00

Snack/lunch: Fiteer (egyptian style pizza)

I'm not going to even try to comment or explain the long absence...suffice it to say that I do apologise. That being said, with all that's going on right now in Egypt, I thought I would focus on a recipe today that takes me to the serene and clear waters of the north coast.

It's a little slice of heaven, an area called Marsa Matruh, and not too far from Alexandria. Here the waters are crystal clear, the sand is fluffy and soft like powder and the villages are quaint, pretty much leaving you with nothing else to do but relax and look out at the waters. And fish.

The area used to be dotted with small fishing villages. My Uncle Fouad (Foo-Foo), told me that when they were younger, they would come up here for a few days of fishing and camping. It was the place to go for reconnecting with nature and escaping the chaos of Cairo.

Forward to the late 1990s, and the idea of restort towns and owning a condominium in the area is in vogue. My first introduction was sadly not to the quaint fishing village of said by-gone era, but instead a tranquil subdivision by the sea. In all fairness, it was beautiful, and simple. Not tacky (suprisingly) and serene. It was just on the sea and at your doorstep was the squeaky white sand and clear waters. That resort town is called Montazah.

However, the loud and obnoxious sister to Montazah is Marina. It's a quick drive away, and it's an overload of the senses....well last time I was there. Suped-up cars, music blasting loud enough to rattle anyone's bones, and young teens/tweens roaming around doing what they do best: talk loudly and and try to get noticed.

But back in the calm and serenity of Montazah, was a boardwalk along the beach. There you can find little stores and grocerers, and food for take-out. When I was there, we were in a big group with family friends, who go there often and knew what snacks were worth the effort to find. And so, while this may have been well over ten years ago...I remember this moment perfectly. We were all out late, sitting on the beach and someone ran to grab a snack. 30 minutes later he returned with what he termed 'egyptian pizza', called 'fiteer'.

It's essentially phyllo (filo) pastry, so flaky layers of buttery loveliness stuffed with either savoury or sweet fillings. In this case, we had both. One had icing sugar, raisins, nuts and shredded coconut, and the other had a type of local feta and vegetables.

To my surprise, when I got back to Cairo, a cousin took me out one day for lunch to a fiteer stand just down the street. And there it was in all its glory: a small hole filled with men hanging about. But you walk in and the guy behind the counter is busy stretching the dough. You say what kind of filling you want, he assembles it, throws into the oven and hands it back to you all wrapped and ready to eat.

Where does it come from though? Well let's remember that the dough is phyllo pastry that is just layered numerous times. So the phyllo pastry likely trickeled down from the Turks under the Ottoman empire. The idea of stretching dough until it reaches a paper-thin consistency can be traced back to Istanbul, at the Topkapi Palace. This was the main residence of the Ottoman Sultans for nearly 400 years.

Prior to the palace kitchens, the idea of folding or pleating bread could be related to the earlier form of phyllo called 'yufka', which means 'thin' in an older Turkic dialect.

When the Ottoman empire took over Egypt in 1519, as has been the case with many other foods or beverages, the phyllo pastry likely fell into common practice.

Either way, just about every culture has a version of dough stuffed with something, so it's not that much of an original concept; but it's the local ingredients that make it unique.

In this case, savoury or sweet. But the local ingredients for savoury will include feta cheese, torshi (pickled vegetables), olives, tomatoes, cucumbers. The sweet one will have crushed pistachioes, dried coconut, raisins, honey, icing sugar and a local form of clotted cream.

I'll start off by saying buy your own phyllo pastry. I convinced myself it could easily be done at home, and while I did have a tasty version of it, it was not the same light consistency of a traditional feteer.

That being said, here is the recipe:

______________________________________________________
Total preparation time: 1 hour
Yield: 2 persons

INGREDIENTS:
dough:
2 1/3 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup water

filling:
feta cheese (this is a popular egyptian feta brand...but any feta will do)

fresh tomatoes
torshi (pickled vegetables)
_____________________________________________________

DIRECTIONS:
1. Mix flour, salt and water together in a bowl

2. Keep kneeding by hand (you can use a mixer) until dough becomes smooth and stretchy

3. Divide the dough into two equal parts

4. Shape into balls and grease with melted butter

5. Set aside for 15 minutes

6. Preheat oven to about 400 F / 250 C

7. Take one ball and cut into five pieces

6. Grease with butter (or oil)

7. Using a rolling pin, roll out each piece as thin possible

8. Once each piece is thin, try to further stretch it out by hand, taking care not to rip the centre

9.Once all pieces are as thin as possible (it takes a lot of patience and practice to do this easily), then you can assemble all the pieces together to make one big piece

10. Add your filling to the centre

11. Carefully bring up the dough to seal in the filling

12. Once it is closed, brush with melted butter and transfer over to a baking tray

13. Bake in the oven until it is golden (about 15 minutes)

Better than Zatar? Yes, it's Egyptian Du'ah (dukka)

2013-02-03T23:53:00.013+01:00

Ah yes, already a month into the new year and I've finally sat down to do this entry. And it's one I've been wanting to do for quite some time.

In fact, a few people have emailed me about Du'ah (do'ah, dukkah, duqqah, dukka). The word derives from the arabic word to pound, since the spices are toasted and then pounded using a mortar and pestle.

And it's a spice combination specific to Egypt. The Levantine region has its own mix, called Za'tar.

To be honest, I never gave du'ah much thought, it was just always something sitting in the fridge. My father, however, has always been obsessed with it, and up until recently I couldn't figure out why. But every time we sit down to a dinner of pasta, he whips out this massive jar of du'ah and instead of grating some parmesan cheese, he proceeds to flood his pasta with mounds of this spicing. Or he simply eats it just as it is with a spoon.

The problem with buying this ready-made is that because it is a mix of spices, there are many, many variations. So to minimize any disappointments at the dinner table, my father has taken to bringing back a few bags to Canada after each visit to Egypt. His cousin has the connections to the person who makes this, so this delicate balance of spices is just perfect.

Apart from its use in pasta, we never used it for any other purpose at home. Although, growing up, my father said how my grandmother and her friends would all get their du'ah from the same person, or one of them from the group would make a big batch for everyone. Either way, it was kind of a big deal getting your fill of du'ah. At home, she would use it for sandwiches, just sprinkle it on the bread to give it some flavour before adding meats or cheeses.

Not too long ago, I went to some hip bar in New York City two years ago, and on the 'ethnic' menu for starters was du'ah and warmed pita bread with some olive oil. I ordered it and while it wasn't awful....the combination of the spices was off. But I'll admit, hipster joint aside, it was refreshing to see an item like that on the menu, even if the server herself had no idea about the dish.

In fact, it is commonly eaten in Egypt as a starter with some olive oil and warm pita bread. So the hip bar wasn't wrong after all. It's also used during fasting season (any religion) as a light way to break the fast. But it's not a terribly common sight, nor is it used for spicing in dishes as one would see with za'atar in salads or lebanese-style pizzas (manooshe).

But the different spices used in the mix sort of throw all of the country's history into one even blend.
While the mix differs from person to person, at the base of it are: sesame seeds, cumin seeds, coriander seeds and pine nuts. These are all items that can be traced back to the times of the pharaohs, and have been found in ancient egyptian tombs.

However, either hazel nuts or peanuts are used as the main nut in the mix. The one I grew up with had peanuts, but many recipes call for hazel nuts. Either way, neither nut is native to Egypt. Peanuts originate from South America and were brought over by the European explorers and eventually traded around the Mediterranean. Hazel nuts can be traced back to Syria, Turkey and even further back to China. So the nut component of the mix is a relatively new addition, and was probably introduced to egyptian foods through trade due to its geographical position.

Whether you opt for the hazel nut or peanut version, the best thing about this mix is that the flavouring comes from its dry roasting, so it is about as healthy as you can get and it can keep for a very long time.

The recipe I am using is one based on the mix I have always had; but getting the recipe was another story. It was a no-go. My cousin in Egypt was unable to really pinpoint the exact recipe, so after some trial and error in the kitchen, I managed to recreate what tastes familiar to me. All that to say is that you can change the proportions around to suit your tastes.

Also, the recipe I have makes enough for a little jar of spice. But you can double the proportions for more, or half them for less, just make sure the ratio stays the same.
_________________________________________________________
Total preparation time: 20 minutes

INGREDIENTS
1/4 cup ground peanuts (or hazel nuts)

1/4 cup sesame seeds

2 tablespoons coriander seeds

1 tablespoon cumin seeds
1 tablespoon pine nuts

pinch of salt (to taste)

__________________________________________________________
DIRECTIONS

1. Using a frying pan, dry roast on medium heat, the sesame seeds.

2. When the sesame seeds have begun to change colour, add the peanuts (or hazel nuts).

3. Allow these two to mix for about a minute.

4. Add remaining ingredients, except the salt.

5. Continuously stir ingredients to prevent burning.
6. After about ten minutes, the roasting should be done. Taste the mix to make sure you can taste the smokiness from roasting, and not something burnt. The colour should be significantly darker at this point.
7. If you have a mortar and pestle, add everything to the mortar with about a teaspoon of salt.
8. If you don't have a mortar and pestle, add everything to container for blending. Add a teaspoon of salt.

9. Grind everything to a powder. You cannot get too fine of a powder with this mix.

10. Because of the nuts, there may be a bit of moisture in the beginning making the mix clump a little, that's alright, let the mix dry out first, and then you can keep it sealed in a small jar.

Enjoy!

apologies for the long absence...

2012-11-05T23:36:00.000+01:00

If you do follow my blog, I apologise for the loooooong absence. Things have been a little hectic, and I haven't been able to find enough time to update my blog, but I haven't forgotten.

Egypt gets to the heart of stuffed Artichokes

2012-07-18T15:26:00.002+02:00

It's nearly the end of July, and surprisingly, summer time has not yet come to the north of france. So while I was hoping to have this blog entry up and ready weeks ago, to me it still feels like the end of March, so I'm not really that much behind...

In any case, I am now settled into my new home and all that, so I have been looking around to see what local ingredients would be worth using, and boom! Found something. Since my arrival here, the markets have been chock-full of artichokes. I generally stay away from cooking artichokes because, well I don't really know how to eat them. The only way I've ever had them was when they were steamed and served with a little bowl of lemon-butter sauce. Pretty good.

Every week, I would see them at the market. I would try to avoid their gazes and keep on walking by, but every time, they kept begging me to do something with them. The artichoke season is generally from early spring to mid-summer, so they are almost done now. So I called my mom and she told me a great recipe her mother used to do. Hence today's entry.

My grandmother, Samira, had a real knack for cooking. Apparently, in addition to illustrating children's books, she would whip up these amazing meals for guests, and everything was done to perfection. In her repertoire of recipes was stuffed artichokes: my mother's worst nightmare. This meal was apparently the root cause of many disagreements between my mother and grandmother. Quite simply, my mother hates artichokes. And when she tells me this story, the details she remembers are more along the lines of the smell of the artichokes mixed with her feelings of being a little queasy from the thought of eating them. To get through such a meal, she did what any child would do: hide the artichokes.

Visiting Egypt, artichokes are not really the first thing on everyone's meal list. But they are generally served on occasion when they are season. Though artichokes do grow in the wild in North Africa, they originate from Southern Europe. It is believed that the seeds of artichokes came from the Romans when they took over Egypt and the surrounding areas back in 30 B.C. However the name 'artichoke' is a derivative from the arabic word 'al khurshuuf', meaning thorny plant, though the actual arabic word for artichoke is 'ardi-shoki'

The arabic influence in the naming of artichokes could be pointed to the time of the Islamic empire that had taken over North Africa, and much of Europe. Artichokes were being cultivated in Granada, Spain and simultaneously in Sicily. During this time, the evolution of the artichoke took place, and the Arabs are credited for transforming the artichoke into the plant we know today. After the end of the Islamic empire, around the late 1400s, artichokes remerged and were primarily cultivated in Naples.

In due time, the Dutch introduced artichokes to England around the 1500s. While Europe was busy taking over the world around this time, both French and Spanish immigrants brought artichokes over to the United States.

All this to say is that the artichoke, got its humble start in the wild around the Mediterranean, but somehow managed to make its way all over. Today, Egypt is one of the top three producers in the world of artichokes.

As is the case with many of the stuffed items in Egypt, stuffed artichokes are filled with ground meat and topped with béchamel sauce. The tart taste of the artichoke is what makes this dish perfectly suited to this type of preparation. I will say though - as a warning - prepping artichokes for cooking is not the easiest of tasks, though it isn't all that hard. Don't be put off by it, but do use a sharp knife.

_________________________________________________________

Total preparation time: 30 minutes

Total cooking time: 15 minutes

Yield: 4 persons

INGREDIENTS

4 artichokes (try to choose ones that do not have too many brown spots on them)

1 lemon

salt

Filling:

1 cup of ground meat (lamb or beef)

1 finely chopped onion

1 tablespoon of oil

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice (optional)

pepper

salt

Béchamel :

2 tablespoons of butter
1 cup of milk
1/4 cup of flour
salt/pepper

______________________________________________

DIRECTIONS

1. Cut stem off.

2. Cut off the top of the artichoke.

3.Cut off exterior leaves (top and bottom) until you get to the heart - what the leaves are attached to at the base.

4. Scoop out all the hairs in the artichoke; they are probably purplish in colour.

5. Bring to boil a medium sized pot with water, a pinch of salt and two or three slices of lemon.

6. Add the artichokes to the boiling water.

7. Leave them to cook until you can easily pass a knife through one of them. (about 10 minutes)

Filling:

8. Add onions and meat to pan on high heat

9. Add allspice, cinnamon, salt, pepper to meat

10. Continue cooking on medium heat until meat is unclumped and well-cooked

Béchamel sauce (see previous recipe for photos):
11. On high heat, add butter to a pot
13. When butter has melted, add milk to pot

14. Keep stirring milk and butter until it is hot; but not boiling
15. With a whisk or fork, add a bit of the flour stirring vigorously

16. Keep stirring until all the flour is added
17. The sauce will thicken up once everything has dissolved.Season with salt and pepper.

18. In a casserole dish, place the cooked artichokes.
19. Fill them with meat.
20. Cover them with béchamel.

21. Put in the oven for about 10 minutes (350F), or until they are golden.
22. Serve them with a salad and enjoy!

Haven't forgotten...

2012-05-09T15:10:00.000+02:00

I know I know....it's been a very long time.
I haven't forgotten! Just been busy moving. Hopefully will have something up in the coming weeks. In the mean time enjoy the spring!

Anise cookies: it's a nice thing

2012-03-14T17:45:00.016+01:00

Oh my, is it March already? I've had this post ready to write for so long, but as it turns out, moving got in the way. That's right, I'm moving to the other side of the pond, for now at least. I never know who regularly reads this blog (thank you if you do), but I do apologize for the long wait. As a forewarning though, the next few months may not be any better as I try to settle into a new rhythm, but I will do my best to keep posting.

All that to say that the first entry for 2012 will be in honour of my great-aunt Yola. She was born in Egypt, but her family is originally from Armenia, though her immediate family came from the Levantine. So the culinary talents and influences in her family span across different cultures. She married my grandmother's brother - George- and after he passed on, she remarried in Canada another man also called George. With her new family in Montreal, and my family close by, Yola's connection to our family remained close. Though I never got a chance to get to know her very well, I still remember her when I was a child as being a very elegant lady with a warm smile. She just recently celebrated her 80th birthday, and is still just as elegant as ever and still knows how to whip up a great dish. My aunt and father still talk about her dazzling meals and desserts. In fact Yola's second husband also came from a family of culinary talents; so much so that someone from his side of the family decided to compile a list of their best recipes and circulate it around. It has pages and pages of recipes that would woo just about anyone. Sumptuous cakes and mouth-watering and perfectly spiced meat dishes, all written with a nod to to the cook in the family who was known for that particular creation. My aunt gave me a copy not too long ago and I found the first thing I wanted to make: anise cookies (or biscuits).

To be honest, it was around the time of Christmas that I was searching for a cookie recipe that was easier to make than Kahk, but just as satisfying in taste. We all have tasted anise at one time or another in licorice candies. Hopefully you haven't been tainted by the fake versions of licorice in cheaper candies, but now's a good time to start in on the real thing.

Anise, surprisingly, has its roots in Egypt. It has been cultivated in Egypt for at least 4000 years. It grows readily around the Mediterranean area, which is why anise-flavoured liquors abound in just about every country. Arak in the Levantine, Ouzo in Greece, Raki in Turkey, Zambuca in Italy, and Pastis in France. While many associate Egypt and the Middle East with no alcohol, the anise beverage has been a favourite since the early days of the spread of Islam. It's a drink one has with Mezza (appetizers) to balance the strong flavours of the garlic and spice. In fact, it was the Islamic empire that discovered how to distill alcohol making it possible to extract anise into a fine spirit.

Today, while there is no official Egyptian anise liquor, the peasants (or fellaheen) do have their own moonshine version called zibib.

Prior to that, Egyptians had been using anise for medicinal purposes. It has properties which relieve bloating and aid with digestion. It is usually drunk in a tea, by boiling a few spoons of anise in water. Specifically in Egypt, anise tea - Yansoon- is also given to nursing women to aid with the production of breast milk.It is also used to calm any muscle spasms.

When Egypt became a Roman province around 30BC, they too brought with them a different way of using anise: in baked goods. They usually ate these anise desserts after a large meal since it helped with digestion. It is quite possible that the impetus for today's recipe stems from the Romans using anise directly in foods.

I will admit that while the fresh-out-of-the-oven cookies are yummy, I did take it a step further and made a little chocolate/rum sauce to drizzle over the cookie. It's probably one of the few times I strayed away from the original recipe; but if you're a chocolate lover, you might understand why.

Enjoy!

_________________________________________

Total preparation time: 15 minutes

Total baking time: 15-20 minutes

Yield: 15 cookies

INGREDIENTS

3 eggs

3 cups of flour

1/2 cup of milk

1 cup of sugar

1 cup of oil

3 teaspoons of baking powder

1 tablespoon of vanilla

3 tablespoons of anise

________________________________________

DIRECTIONS

1. Mix all ingredients in a bowl.

2. Grease a baking sheet or place a silicon baking cover.

3. Drop about a tablespoon worth of cookie batter on sheet.

4. Heat oven to 350F and bake until they are all golden.

Chocolate drizzle (optional)

1. Melt half a cup of dark chocolate chips with 1/4 of milk.

2. Mix melted chocolate until consistency is smooth.

3. Add about 1 tablespoon of rum.

4. Mix well.

5. Dip or decorate cookie with chocolate.

Egypt's version of: Fasolia wa roz bil shaareyyah (beans'n rice with vermicelli)

2011-12-09T20:50:00.001+01:00

Can you smell that? That burning, smokey air? That's fall. The season I probably despise the most, because what comes after fall? Winter. It's probably about to start now...any minute.

But, we're more than half way through the fall now, and so I suppose I've gotten use to it, and can participate in those cozy fall things people like to do. I don't wear wool, so that's out of the question, but for me, cooking heartier meals is a fall thing. So yay me.

I decided to revisit one of my favourite stews: Basila wa roz (peas with rice). A simple and hearty stew that's easy to flavour and even easier to eat.

Across the Middle East

As an undergraduate student in freezing cold Montreal, I had a good Lebanese friend. I think my way of trying to connect with people from the Middle East is immediately through food, because the language thing ends as soon as it starts, with some blank stares from my end. And then I usually blush out of embarrassment.

In any case, my friend Rasha and I bonded over studying and food. My excitement was heightened at our new friendship when she invited me over for dinner. She told me she was going to prepare something simple, and when I came by she pointed to the stew waiting on top of the stove: fasolia wa roz (beans and rice). "It's one of my favourites" she told me. I think I wanted to pretend I knew it, so I responded with a "mine too".

Luckily, I wasn't too far off. It is more or less the exact same stew both my parents made for us growing up, but as I mentioned, we used peas instead of beans. But beans are a common addition to the stew in Egypt as well. However, string beans or green beans, or 'fasolia' are not native to Egypt, or the Middle East for that matter.

Tracing the roots of beans

They are native to the Americas, India and China. When the Spanish began their trade outside of Europe, they introduced the green bean to the French around 1597. That's probably why the green beans have evolved over the years into the name of 'french beans'.

The first round of French colonisation of Egypt was in 1798, which lasted only three years, so not much time for their culinary influence to seep in just yet. However, the second wave of French colonisation of Syria and Lebanon after World War I guaranteed that the French culture found its way into day-to-day cuisine, which was inevitably brought over to Egypt by the Lebanese, Armenian-Lebanese, and Syrians.

When the more recent wave of immigrants trickled into Egypt in the late 1800s, early 1900s, the French and Italian influences were solidified in Egyptian cuisine. The Italians also brought along their love of cooking with the string beans.

Fancy rice

To vary the dish a little, I decided to showcase my aunt's rice dish. It's a common way of serving rice in Egypt. Rice pilafs are not very popular in Egypt; the fanciest we get with our rice is often one of three ways: white rice with ground liver and pine nuts, white rice and pine nuts, and white rice with small vermicelli.

The latter is the more popular presentation. Although it may not the fanciest of rices, it still adds a touch of 'I care' in the meal. And it adds a slightly nutty flavour to the rice.

The addition of vermicelli probably came about with the large Italian influx of immigrants in the late 1800s/early 1900s. In arabic, vermicelli is referred to as shaareyah, which comes from the word 'shaar' meaning hair. However, the vermicelli used is normally bought already cut into small pieces. If you can't find that, just buy regular vermicelli and break it yourself.

The rice dish is called: roz bil shaareyyah

RECIPE

Total preparation and cooking time: 2 hours (including rice)

-can be longer depending on cut of meat

Yield: 4 persons

INGREDIENTS

Stew

1 tablespoon of olive oil (or butter) 1 white onion 1 lb. of cubed beef (or lamb) 2 cans of tomato paste (156 ml)

1 stick of cinnamon

1 teaspoon ground allspice (if available) 2 cups of water

2 cups of green beans (fresh or frozen)

Rice

1 cup of short-grain white rice

1/4 cup of vermicelli (broken into small pieces)

1 tablespoon of olive/vegetable/oil

salt

2 cups of water (just a little under 2 cups)

DIRECTIONS

Stew

1. Dice onions

2. In a stewing pot, heat oil and fry onions

3. When onions are soft, add beef

4. Brown beef for a few minutes until everything is seared on the outside

5. Add tomato paste and water

6. Add cinnamon and allspice. Salt and pepper to taste

7. Let stew cook for about an hour or more; until meat is tender

8. Cut off stems and ends of the beans

9. When meat is tender, add beans

10. Let cook for another 15 minutes

11. Serve on rice with fresh green onions or sliced onions in lemon juice (or white vinegar) and salt

Rice

1. On high heat, add oil to pot

2. Add vermicelli to oil and continuously stir until all the pasta has turned brown (but not burnt)

3. Once the vermicelli has changed colour, take the pot off the heat.

4. Add water and salt to taste.

5. Once water is boiling, turn heat to low.

6. Add rice.

7. Stir and keep covered until rice is cooked (about 15 - 20 minutes)

And there you have it. A simple variation on a household staple with some fancy rice.

2011-11-24T22:56:00.001+01:00

Haven't forgotten....just a wee bit behind. More to come!

Brewing the perfect Turkish coffee (ahwa) the Egyptian way

2011-09-06T01:06:00.029+02:00

Eeek, two months already and not an entry, and the summer is done. Horrible; just horrible. But on that note, we can ease into the horror that is the fall with a simple item: coffee.

While there are many ways of grouping and dividing people in Egyptian society, one subtle force comes through the drinking beverage of choice: coffee or tea. This being Turkish coffee, or black tea.

My family for instance is pure coffee. My aunt still cannot understand why someone would want a cup of tea over a nice cup of coffee. When a guest asks for tea, she resorts to the two boxes someone gave her years ago and adds “I’m not sure what they are; but I think they are some kind of tea” In fact, even as a child she hated drinking tea so much that when my grandmother would make her a nice cup of tea when she was sick, my aunt would graciously accept it and quickly dump it into an old shoe; a lot easier apparently then going through the tortuous event of sipping it.

My best memories of my grandmother was sitting on her lap as a child and dipping a petit beurre biscuit into her Turkish coffee and relishing the taste of buttery sugar with a hint of bitterness from the coffee, almost like a hot chocolate. For fun, she would then flip over her cup and wait some time and try to read her future. Many women still do this when they get together and have an afternoon coffee and try to figure out what's in store for their future. I still do this with the hopes I can read something; normally it’s just a big coffee grind mess which makes me a little worried.

Both my dad and my aunt have kept the ritual and routine of Turkish coffee every day. My father has one right after his breakfast, and then again later in the day after his dinner time nap. He never skips a beat. My aunt starts the morning with an espresso and then switches over to a Turkish one before heading out. You can’t beat routine of these two. As a teenager, my dad was the one who taught me how to make Turkish coffee; which oddly enough, is different to my aunt’s method. But they both work out equally fine.

My mother’s family tends to be more on the tea side, which is odd given that she is the one with the Turkish lineage. My mom is the one who taught me about tea making. She makes her tea as if it’s a strong cup of coffee; it’s a very typically Egyptian way of making tea: boiling the hell out of it. Her morning routine is also set in stone: small stove top pot with water and black tea. She boils this for about five to ten minutes, until it is pretty much black. Egyptians don’t add milk or cream to their tea, they add sugar. Lots and lots of sugar. To the strong black tea some will then add mint leaves, and this is the Egyptian mint tea. It’s not as ritualistic or complicated as the Moroccan green tea; but it is a nice way to end a heavy meal.

If you wander around the markets in Egypt, stop into a store downtown, or take a faluka ride along the Nile, you will always see people sipping tea. When it’s hot, you drink tea to cool down. And when it’s cold you also drink tea to warm up. But the hot tea on a hot day does work. Many neighbourhood cafes will make tea or coffee and then send out one of the younger workers to distribute the tea to other stores or people working away from cafes. You will see these boys running around with a tray filled with tea; and sometimes coffee. Tea is the drink of choice during the day, whereas coffee is more when you can sit and savour it. Of course, as a shopper, it’s the first thing you are asked when you enter a store and are about to settle into some bargaining: “would you like a tea, coffee or a coke?” Even when taking a boat ride in Nubia, people are running around making sure everyone has tea or coffee. When I was there, the guide we had shared his tea with me on the boat. Generally, making tea quickly like that outside of the home, an instant tea is used; it has the consistency of instant coffee granules, but it’s tea. Hot water is added and some sugar.

Mint has been cultivated in Egypt since the days of the Pharaohs. The mint oil itself was revered for its medicinal properties. But it wasn’t commonly used as a daily tea until the British arrived in the 1800s and brought with them tea from China and India. There are essentially two types of tea served in Egypt: that from Lower Egypt (Koshary) and that from Upper Egypt (Saidi). Koshary tea is made by simply steeping tea leaves for a few minutes then adding sugar, and sometimes some mint. Saidi tea is made by boiling the tea leaves for a few minutes, then adding lots of sugar (my mom’s tea).

As for the Turkish coffee, the history behind it is what makes the drink rather interesting. The initial story behind coffee comes from Ethiopia in the 11^th century and the red cherry-like fruits that their goats would eat. After eating the fruit, the goats would get very energetic. Soon enough, the fruit was thought to have medicinal properties and it was picked, boiled and drunk. With time, and trade quite heavy in that area, the drink soon spread throughout the Arabian Peninsula, especially in Yemen where the climate was perfect for growing the fruit. Bear in mind, that it was still the fruit that was being drunk.

With the spread of the Ottoman Empire, Yemen became just another province. The governor of Yemen, Ozdemir Pasha, introduced the drink to Sultan Suleiman in the early 1500s. Apparently it was here in the Ottoman palace that a new way of drinking the fruit was discovered: roasting the beans of the fruit over a fire, grinding the beans and adding it to boiling water. And that is the same recipe used today for Turkish coffee.

This new beverage soon spread from the palace to grand mansions and then to the public. Coffee was purchased, roasted at home and then brewed in coffee pots known as a ‘cezve’, though in Arabic its called the ‘kanakah’.

Coffeehouses began to spring up throughout the city and those stopping through got their first dose of coffee. In due time, coffee spread throughout Europe and then over to the Americas. The Turkish word for coffee was ‘kahve’ and obviously over the years its made its way into other languages as coffee or café or other similar variations.

But, back to Egypt. The Ottomans conquered Egypt in the early 1500s, around the same time that coffee was starting to get recognized in Turkey. Undoubtedly, like many other foods that have made their way into Egyptian culture, Turkish food and habits soon became common in Egyptian households.

The Turkish were fairer in colour and thus seen as the aristocrats of Egyptian society for some time. Therefore marriage amongst the Turkish community was not something that was taken lightly between families as the bride to be had to be well chosen in order to maintain the same socio-economic level. One way of testing out the potential of a bride-to-be was when the groom’s family was invited to meet the bride’s family, the bride-to-be would be the one to prepare the Turkish coffees. If her coffee came out perfectly; meaning with a little cream foam on top and perfectly sweetened, then she was seen as a good match and the groom’s family would then give its blessings.

My aunt used to remind me this as a joke growing up, so that to this day when I prepare coffee for guests, I’m a little concerned if there isn’t enough of a cream foam on top; that could spell the end of a friendship.

Throughout the cities in Egypt, you have the old tradition still of men-only coffee houses. Even to this day many of them are going strong and men go in there to play backgammon or chess, smoke a shisha, talk to friends and sip coffee. Women still haven't cornered this market.

But when you order a Turkish coffee in Egypt, or someone offers you one, there are four ways of having it prepared and all of it have to do with the amount of sugar. The more popular preparation is ‘Mazbootah’, meaning correct, so it has just one sugar. ‘Ziadah’ is with additional sugar, and ‘Areehah’ is a little less sugar than mazbootah. ‘Saddah’ is with no sugar at all. Apparently our last name ‘bissada’ was popular on the play grounds during recess because it rhymed with ‘saddah'. So clever...

At funerals, regardless of religions, there is also a tradition to only serve ‘saddah’ coffee because you don’t want the occasion to be viewed as anything but a sad and bitter ordeal. Also, any floral motif cups are not used as it might lift the spirits of the guests. Funerals in Egypt are generally taken very seriously and are not viewed with any optimism, such as celebrating one’s life. So everything surrounding the event has to be just as serious, including the coffee.

In terms of preparation, it’s the easiest thing in the world. I often make this coffee when camping because all it takes is a pot, ground coffee and sugar. In the mid-east food stores, you can find pre-ground Turkish coffee, or you can get it ground to a fine powder in any coffee store. It’s much finer than an espresso grind.

espresso grind:

turkish coffee grind:

Also, variations coming from the Persian Gulf include cardamom pods ground into it which gives the coffee a wonderful flavour; though it’s not as popular in Egypt. The coffee itself is usually a short shot really and served in a small tea set and always, always served with a glass of water to drink afterwards. But my cousin and I agree that you can throw tradition aside and cheat when you want a big cup of coffee and not a little tease.

_______________________________________

Total preparation time: 6 minutes Yield: 1 person

INGREDIENTS

Water

1 small teaspoon of sugar

2 heaping teaspoons of coffee

_______________________________________

DIRECTIONS

1. If using a kanakah, fill it with water just to the bend in the pot.

2. If you are using a regular pot, fill the tea cup you are using with water and add that to the pot.

3. Add one small teaspoon of sugar to the pot. Stir it and set it on the burner.

4. Ideally, for the best cup of coffee, you set the burner on low to medium heat. I have little patience for that so I put it on maximum.

5. When the water starts boiling, take it off the heat, add your coffee to it, mix it and bring it back to the heat source.

6. If you have electric burners, then you can put the pot back on with the heat off. If you have a gas burner, keep the heat on low.

7. Now you want to watch for the coffee to rise. When you see the coffee foam rising and about to spill over, take it off and pour it into a cup. If it just begins to boil again then you should probably start all over, because it is too hot to have a proper foam.

8. Now you can sit back and enjoy your coffee. Because the coffee grinds are still in the cup, it’s not a coffee you can drink fast, otherwise you end up with grinds in your mouth. You need to sip it slowly and when you start getting more grinds than coffee, it’s over. You can flip your cup over and hope someone can read your future.

9. There is another way of preparing the coffee, and that is you add everything right from the beginning and watch it rise immediately for the foam. Both methods are used.

Lunch/Dinner: Stuffed tilapia with onion rice

2011-06-05T07:09:00.029+02:00

Ah sweet summer is back. It only took ten months or so. But that's ok. To mark the return of the season, I wanted to make something a little summery: fish.

I also figured I'd do fish because my mom had been suggesting for a while "why don't you do the stuffed fish? the one I do?" And I'd entertain the idea and forget about it, because, well fish smells and I thought it was going to be this horrid procedure. When in fact it was anything but that. The smell part yes, but everything else was good.

Egyptians do love fish. Especially if you're from Alexandria, you're a fish feind. Up there they have these amazing on-the-sea places where you pick whatever fish they have caught that day and they prepare it for you right there. Fried, or stuffed and grilled. Either one is delicious. The main staple that fish is served with throughout the country is rice. But not just any rice. Special 'fish' rice.

One summer when I was visiting family in Cairo, my cousin's mom had us over for lunch (the big meal of the day). I loved going there because she would always cook things but take her time doing it. I mean really take her time, but she still seemed to enjoy the whole process. That day, she was explaining to me how she would prepare the fish. And then she showed me the rice. She asked me if I knew about it? I said not really. She went on to explain that "you always serve this kind of rice with the fish". "Why?" I asked. "You just do. It goes well together". And there it is.

The rice is simply a mix of sauteed onions, pepper, and a pinch of cinnamon. But because it is so nicely balanced, it goes wonderfully with any type of fish.

As for the the fish, my great-aunt showed me once how to fry the fish in clarified butter, winking at me and saying this is how I can cook for my husband one day; the way to a man's heart, she told me, was through his stomach. While I love her enthusiasm for cooking, I wasn't convinced that I could woo my husband-to-be through heavily fried fish . Instead, I've opted for the traditional stuffing of fish.

Egypt has fish coming from the Mediterranean, the Red Sea and the Nile; though I don't believe the latter to be as popular any more. Back in the pharaonic days, the Nile was revered because not only was it a source of water for agriculture, but also for its fish. As I mentioned in the last entry on sham el-nessim, one of the main ways the spring is celebrated is with the salted fish fiseekh that is from the Nile. When the spring would return and the Nile would flood, it would be the time for everyone to go fishing. If you venture down the Nile, you always come across many fishermen in their small boats fishing throughout the day. So many still depend on the river for fish; but not as much as they used to.

The Mediterranean coast, west of Alexandria, used to be dotted with little fishing villages. These were pristine little places that the city people used to go visit for a quick get-away from the bustling cities. One area in particular is called Mersa Matruh. My uncle told me about how clear the water used to be and how quiet it was. Now, of course, these areas have been highly developed and there are sprawling condos everywhere, and loud music, and the tranquility of the villages is a thing of the past. Though the water is still amazingly clear. When I went there, I found young guys driving around in their cars, blasting Amr Diab, while families lounged on the beaches all day. It still has a wonderfully sleepy feel to it; like a suburb. But you can still find seafood all throughout the towns that serve amazing food.

The Red Sea resort towns are now teeming with tourists and all kinds of night life. It's one of the main hubs of tourism for the country. Of course, not too long ago, these coast lines were also the picture of tranquility, but alas, once a secret is out, it's hard to hide it from everyone. The water there is clear and warm, and you can see all kinds of sea creatures if you go snorkeling or scuba diving. But just like the north, seafood places are in abundance and are very affordable.

In Cairo, among all the street-food vendors, there are seafood fast-food type of places. I came across one a couple years ago. It was tucked into a small side street in Heliopolis and was packed. It was the type of place where you point out which sea-creature you want, tell them quickly how you want it, and they kill it, and grill it for you on the spot, wrap it up and send you on your way. Delicious. And cheap.

Stuffing fish is done differently throughout the country, but it still relies on four main ingredients: fresh coriander leaves, onions, garlic, and lemons. Coriander, or as some may know it, cilantro, has its roots in ancient cuisine in China and all across the Mediterranean. Coriander seeds, which have a completely different taste all together, have been found in pharaonic tombs, so we know that the ancient Egyptians have been using coriander in their cooking for many, many years now. But it doesn't grow wild in Egypt, so many believe the ancient Egyptians began cultivating coriander themselves. It is native to North Africa, Southern Europe, and Southwest Asia.

As for the type of fish, one of the most popular fishes eaten there is called 'el bolti' or tilapia in english. It's a meatier white fish, that doesn't have too much of an overly fish taste and works well when you grill or roast it. Apparently, tilapia was seen as a symbol of fertility and renewal of life, possibly because of how resilient they were to disease and thus able to reproduce fairly easily.
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Total preparation and cooking time: 1.5 hours
Yield: 4 persons

INGREDIENTS

FISH
3 whole tilapia, cleaned and flayed open
1 half a head of garlic
1 white onion
2 bunches of fresh coriander

2-2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 lime
salt
olive oil

RICE
2 cups of short grain rice
4 cups of water
1 white onion
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon of butter/oil
salt

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DIRECTIONS

Fish

1. If you can't do it yourself (I can't), ask someone at the fish counter to clean and cut the fish open - flay it open
2. As you can see, I tried it myself and cut it up the back; it works but just means you have more bones to eat through.

3. Peel all the garlic
4. Using a mortar and pestle or a food processor, add the coriander, garlic and a squeeze of lime juice.
5. Keep mixing these ingredients until it forms a type of paste; add more lime juice if it is still rather dry.

6. Slice the onions into rings
7. Slice the limes.
8. On a baking tray, set out the fish and sprinkle the inside with some salt and cumin.

9. Afterwards, add some of the paste to each fish.
10. Add a few slices of onions and limes to each fish.

11. Cover the fish with foil and put in the oven at around 350F

12. Check on the fish in about 20 minutes.
13. The fish are done when the meat is white in colour and flakes easily with a fork.

Rice

14. While the fish is in the oven, you can start preparing the rice.
15. Dice the onions.
16. In a pot, add about a tablespoon of butter or oil and sautée the onions until they are soft.
17. Add the water and salt to taste.
18. When the water is boiling, add the rice and cinnamon.
19. Mix everything and lower the heat to minimum.
20. Cover and check on rice in about 20 - 30 minutes.

And you will find this fish to be so moist and flavourful, but not at all too fishy. When eating this dish, most families will have some bread and salad on the side to accompany this and maybe a nice glass of beer.

Sham el Nessim / Easter: Armenian Choreg (brioche)

2011-04-22T22:11:00.030+02:00

Ah the sweet smell of spring is kind of, almost, in the air. At least on this side of the world. Back in Egypt, they have finished celebrating the Sham el-Nessim festival. This year, that holiday was today, on April 25th, 2011. It is a holiday that literally translates into 'smelling of the breeze'; the new spring air, and it is one that has no origin in either Christianity or Islam. Therefore it is celebrated by all Egyptians on this day. It's a day when families get together and picnic outside, stroll by the zoo and generally do whatever they can do stay outside and take in the changing of the season.

It is a festival that can be traced back from nearly 4500 years ago when the Ancient Egyptians would celebrate the warm winds returning which would signal a new growing season. It was known then as 'Shamo', meaning a renwal of life. The date of the festival would vary each year and it would be announced the night before at the foot of the great pyramid, when the day of feasting would begin.

The festival was celebrated through certain foods that were either eaten or offered to the gods to ensure a good harvest would be had that year. Salted fish (fiseekh), coloured eggs, termis (lupin beans), lettuce and green onions are all the major foods that are still in practice to this day.

Fiseekh is a salted a fish whose recipe is handed down from generation to generation. When the Nile waters would fluctuate by season (pre-Aswan dam), fish would be in abundance a few weeks prior to the festival and thus easier to catch. They would then be dried in the sun, and then salted awaiting the day of the festival to be eaten. According to my parents, the fish are notoriously smelly and really are far from a treat to be eaten. Further to that is the problem of botulism if the fish are not properly dried. Apparently this festival has led to people getting poisoned from the smelly fish. One article I read quoted a lady using canned tuna as a healthier alternative.

Lupin beans and lettuce are harvested just at the end of winter and early spring. They are believed to represent the hopefulness that comes with the spring. Many households may grow a little pot of beans and/or lettuce in anticipation of this holiday.

The pharaohs believed eggs represented a regeneration of life. Thus they were boiled and coloured, and then hung in temples. The tradition of colouring eggs seeped into the Christian celebration of Easter, and seems to be going strong today, and world wide it would seem.

The use of onions (green onions), apparently comes from the belief that they ward off the evil eye and prevent envy. The story behind this belief comes from one of the pharaohs in the 6th Dynasty whose only son was loved by the people, but was ill for many years. One day, a doctor prescribed slicing an onion and putting it under the boy's nose so he would breathe in the vapors. The prince soon recovered and the people were so happy to hear of this news that as a gesture to honour the king, onions were hung over the doors of their houses.

Following the Ancient Egyptians, the Coptics continued this tradition as the festival often falls on or near Easter. Hence many of the traditions associated with Easter in Egypt stem from the celebration of Shem el Nessim. In fact, after many years, the official date of Sham el Nessim is now the day after Coptic Easter.

One such tradition that has fused both Shem el Nessim and Easter is the baking of Armenian Choreg, a very indulgent and sweet bread. Many countries bake a very rich and sweet bread following the end of lent to mark Easter. The growing Armenian community in Egypt since the early 19th century brought many of their culinary traditions to the country. Their easter bread, or Choreg as it is known (or brioche), is one such contribution to Egyptian culture.

My maternal grandmother, whom I never got to meet, was known to be an exceptional cook and baker according to my mother. With the coming of Sham el Nessim, she would whip out her Choreg recipe and bake this bread. She would braid it and bake it with the coloured eggs in keeping with the spring festival traditions. The interesting thing is that my mother's side of the family does not celebrate Easter; but the Aremeninan influence in Egyptian culture has become so ingrained that many households have incorporated different traditions into their own. And this is one bread everyone should have a chance to taste at least once.

The secret ingredient in this bread's flavour is the mahleb; the ground sour cherry pit that was also used in making the kahk cookies.

So in addition to the salted fish, onions, beans, lettuce and coloured eggs, this bread has also woven a place into celebrating both Easter and Sham el Nessim. It's a bread that requires a bit of patience to make, but once you smell it baking in your home, and you take that first bite; you'll think twice before you share it with others...
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Total preparation time: 3.5 hours
Total baking time: 20-30 minutes
Yield: 1 large loaf or three small loaves (minimum 8 persons)

INGREDIENTS

yeast mixture:
2 packages dry yeast (each package 8g/1/4 oz)
1/2 cup warm water
1 teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons of flour

dough:
1 1/4 cups + 1 teaspoon white sugar
8 tablespoons butter (room temperature)
3 tablespoons vegetable shortening
4 tablespoons vegetable oil
5 large eggs
2 tablespoons ground mahleb

7 cups all purpose flour
3/4 cup warm milk

glaze:
2 egg yolks whisked

____________________________________________
DIRECTIONS

1. Add the yeast mixture to a bowl and mix until all ingredients have dissolved.
2. Allow it to stand for about 10 minutes until it has completely foamed.

3. While the yeast mixture is foaming, in a separate bowl add all the ingredients except for the flour and warm milk.

4. When the yeast mixture is foamy and airy looking, add it to the dough mix.

5. Mix everything well.
6. Begin adding a bit of milk, followed by about 2 cups of flour at a time.
7. Continue this process until all the flour and milk has been used.

8. Use your hands to mix the dough properly.
9. On a floured surface, get the dough out of the bowl and begin kneading.
10. You need to knead the dough until it feels a little springy; kneading it for about 10 minutes should do the trick.
11. Grab a big bowl (try to find one that is non-metal) and grease it with vegetable or olive oil.
12. Form the dough into a big ball and place it into the bowl.
13. Make sure the dough rolls around in the bowl so it is greased all over.
14. Place a kitchen cloth on the dough ball in the bowl.

15. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap.
16. Leave the bowl in the oven (oven is not on at this point).

17. Allow it to rise for at least three hours. If you let it rise longer, it's ok too.
18. After three hours, check on the dough.
19. If it has risen, punch it down and let it rise again for another 10 minutes.

20. Take the dough out of the bowl.
21. Now you can preheat the oven to 350F.

22. If you are going to do a traditional braid loaf, you need to section the dough into three equal parts, and roll out each part into long sticks.

23. If you don't want to braid the dough, you can section it however you would like. Some people do mini-rolls, others may just do a loaf.
24. Line an oven tray with parchment paper or silicone sheet and place the bread on it.

25. Glaze the bread with the egg yolks.
26. Put in the oven (not the bottom rack) and leave it for about 15 - 20 minutes; but do keep an eye on it.
27. The bread is done when it is golden in colour but still bouncy in touch.

28. Take out and enjoy with a bit of butter and some jam. Or just a slice on its own!

Egypt's answer to a cookie: A kahk

2011-03-28T20:30:00.042+02:00

My mother asked me the other day what I was planning on making for my blog and I responded proudly: "Kahk". "Why?" She asked. "It's too hard, and complicated. Make something easier!" Surprisingly, it's a cookie that is not hard to make, and is well worth the time. And it's a cookie that is so well-known and extends back so far in history that it would almost be a sin to not even try to explain what these cookies are all about.

Everyone remembers their first time

I remember my first kahk experience. It was Easter, I was about 16 years old, and we were visiting my father's cousin in the morning. We were all given a little drink, some Tia Maria, I believe to toast for Easter. Right after, a box of these cookies came around.

They were all delicately wrapped in wax paper. My Uncle asked if I had ever had a kahk. I had no idea what he was talking about. He said these are special cookies that are only eaten at Easter or Christmas or any special occasion really. I took a bite and I was hooked.

Since then, I've noticed them everywhere. Bakeries in Canada, in France and back in Egypt. In the homes of my family and my friends. They are everywhere. And they are not hard to make. But why are they so popular?

Muses for poetry

Apparently an Egyptian poet, Fouad Haddad, claimed: “Oh kahk, master of generosity … we will never stop making you.”

It's a cookie that has its origins in Egyptian history from the days of the Pharaohs. And it's a cookie that makes a yearly appearance for Egyptian Muslims to mark the end of Ramadan and bi-yearly for Egyptian Christians to mark Christmas and Easter. Basically, it's a cookie to mark any major festival. And it's a cookie that is so filling, that you only need one. It's commonly called Kahk al-Eid, meaning a cookie of the feast.

Cookies are magical snacks too

Back during the days of the ancient Egyptians, these cookies were made as a snack. There are drawings in some of the Pharaonic temples in ancient Thebes and Memphis (close to Cairo) illustrating the making of kahk.

Some drawings, also found on the walls of 18th century dynasty tombs show honey being mixed with butter over a fire, after which flour is added to making a soft and malleable dough. They would mould kahk into different forms or press them into elaborate flower or animal shapes.

They were often stuffed with dates and figs and embellished with dried fruits. The image of the sun goddess, Amon, would be added to the cookies. Larger kahk pies, known as shurik, were often made before visiting tombs during religious feasts. The idea behind this was the pies served as amulets, thought to boost magical powers.

Kahk's staying power

With the end of the pharaonic period, many of the rituals were kept intact through the Egyptian Christians. Kahk was still a popular ritual, but instead of adorning the cookies with Amon, an image of the cross was added.

However, the Amon sun-disc image made a come back when Islam spread into Egypt and the kahk-making was introduced into Muslim rituals. Regardless of the event, it's usually made by groups of women who get together and whip these out. It is a delicate process, and each woman has her own secret for a successful kahk.

Outside of Egypt

Kahk, also extends into other Middle Eastern countries. The word 'kahk' means cookie or biscuit in arabic and can be found in the Levant as the same type of cookie but often made with semolina flour.

In other countries, such as Iraq, kahk is a doughnut style hard biscuit that is covered with sesame seeds and eaten as is or with tea. It is known as kahk bi loz, or almond bracelets. In the Gulf countries, kahk is known as mammoul, and is only stuffed with dates.

Don't be put-off by any of the ingredients in this recipe. Kahk can come filled with dates (agameya), walnuts, pistachios, or simply not filled at all. It's all a matter of what you want to do. I love all three, so I made all three fillings.

Easy-peasy

This is one of the easiest cookie doughs you will probably make. All recipes call for ghee (clarified butter) and butter. But since I've sworn it off, I opted for just pure butter instead, and it worked out wonderfully.

If you have access to a MidEast food store, then you will be able to find the key ingredient: Mahlab. This is the seed of a sour cherry pit. It is a flavouring that is used in many sweets throughout the Middle East.

I used it for a brioche. The other key ingredient is called Rehet al-Kahk. This translates into the smell of Kahk. It sounds a bit complicated, but it's just three ingredients blended together.

I bought it already mixed at the store, but if you can't find it, it is equal parts of fennel seeds, anise seeds and mahlab. That's the big secret. But if you don't have any of that laying around, just use Mahlab.

Another thing which is useful is a mould. I found a traditional one made out of wood in the mid-east food store.

If you can't find one, don't worry, just leave them as is, or use something around the kitchen like a fork to create a pattern. The trick to Egyptian cuisine: don't sweat it. Just improvise.

RECIPE

Preparation time: 1 hour

Cooking time: 25 minutes

Yield: 12 large cookies

INGREDIENTS:

Dough

500 grams (4 cups) flour

300 grams (1.4 cups) soft butter (or ghee or vegetable shortening)

1.5 tablespoons icing sugar

16 grams active yeast (2 heaping tablespoons or two packs of instant dry active yeast)

100 grams lukewarm water

1 teaspoon kahk extract

1 teaspoon mahlab *(if no kahk extract, just use 2 teaspoons of mahlab)

Filling #1
1/4 cup chopped walnuts

1 teaspoon cinnamon

3 teaspoons icing sugar

1 tablespoon rose water

Filling #2
1/4 cup chopped pistachios
3 teaspoons honey
1 tablespoon orange blossom water

Filling #3
250 grams dates (you can buy already pitted and mashed dates)
25 grams butter
1 teaspoon cinnamon

DIRECTIONS:

Filling #1

1. Add all ingredients to a chopper or food processor and set aside.

Filling #2

2. Prepare the pistachio filling the same way, and set aside.

Filling #3

3. For the dates filling, use a pan on medium heat.

4. First add the butter.

5. When it has melted, add the dates and cinnamon.

6. Continue stirring until all the butter has been absorbed.

7. If the date mixture still seems very dry, add a bit more butter.

Dough

8. In a large mixing bowl, add the flour and butter.

9. Mix together until the batter is lumpy and all the flour has been used.

10. If you have bought unground mahlab seeds, you can grind them easily with a mortar and pestle.

11. Mix together the kahk and mahlab and sugar. (or just the sugar and mahlab).

12. In a small container, add the lukewarm water. Make sure there is enough room (at least half) for the yeast mixture to rise.

13. Add the kahk mixture and yeast to the water.

14. Keep the mixture loosely covered and at room temperature for at least ten minutes.

15. When the mixture has at least doubled in size, add to the flour mixture.

16. Mix using hands until all the ingredients have been worked in and it is a ball of dough.

17. Set oven to 375F

Stuffing

18. Grab a handful of dough and round into a ball. Don't worry so much about the size, but more about the consistency. Each ball should be roughly the same size.

19. If you are using a mould like this, then press the dough into it, making a little dip in the middle to put the filling into.

20. If you are not using a mould, use your thumb to create a little dip in the dough to add filling to.

21. Add about a teaspoon of any filling of your choice.

22. Pinch the side pieces of side together to cover up the filling.

23. Lay on a non-greased baking sheet. Or you can use parchment paper.

24. Once you have finished making all your cookies, put in the oven for about 15 minutes.

25. The cookies are ready when they have turned slightly golden.

26. Take out and dust with icing sugar.

Then make yourself a nice cup of tea and grab a cookie and enjoy!

It's not falafel if it's got chickpeas!

2011-02-21T04:46:00.008+01:00

Today's entry is dedicated to a dish or snack that has its roots in Egypt: ta'meya or falafel. That's right, though the Levantine countries have the better business minds to export falafel to the masses around the world, it does originate in Egypt and there is a key difference in its preparation: the beans. It's the beans that make a world of difference.

Green broad beans are vital to falafel

In Egypt, green broad beans are used. In the Levantine version, it's chickpeas. Now, for the green broad beans, they are loosely translated into english as 'fava beans'. I made the mistake of assuming these fava beans were the same ones used in ful mudammas; BIG mistake.

Now I know that fava beans and broad beans, or green broad beans are two entirely different things. And these broad beans are readily available outside of Egypt in fresh, canned, frozen or dried versions.

Falafel: chickpea or broad beans?

With the spreading of Islam throughout the Middle East, the idea of falafel travelled, and was adapted locally.

In the Levantine, broad beans are not as popular as chickpeas. So their version has always been made using chickpeas.

According to one man interviewed for this entry, the division of the falafel was in Egypt. When the fritters were being made they were only broad beans. But in the areas where there were big Jewish communities (more in the north) chickpeas were also incorporated. When these communities left Egypt, they took the chickpeas variation.

But in Egypt, especially in the southern cities (Asyut, Minya, etc.) falafel remains strictly broad-bean based.

Tracking down its origins

But where did the falafel idea come from? There is evidence of dried broad beans from pharaonic tombs. One book I read sourced pharaonic cooks as making bean fritters using mashed broad beans, garlic, onions and spices.

That could be the precursor to how falafel became incorporated into the diets of Egyptians post-pharaoh rule. The Coptic people, often seen as descendants from the ancient Egyptians, still maintain a few practices from those days.

One has been eating falafel as a substitute for their fasts, mainly during the time of lent. The Copts do many fasts throughout the year that forbid any animal product; therefore they have often been the ones to come up with new ways to incorporate vegan meals into their diets.

But why is it referred to as ta'meya in Egypt

One man I interviewed explained the origin of the word 'falafel'.

In fact, it is a Coptic word meaning to roll. So when you roll your bean fritter into a ball to fry, that's the falafel. When the Islamic conquest came to Egypt in the 600s, the Coptic language was pushed aside to make way for Arabic. Falafel was reborn as ta'maya, meaning Tam (taste) Maya (a hundred), so food for the hundreds, given it can easily feed the people.

But then there is another theory. Ta'meya could also be a word rooted in the Coptic or Pharaonic language. The term falafel comes from Arabic and is the plural form of filfil meaning peppers. It is also used to describe something that is fluffy, such as the frying of bean fritters in this case.

So there's a bit of a dilemma in terms of the true origin of the name.

Falafel as a daily staple

Following the spread of Islam into Egypt, ta'meya also became a staple in the diets of practicing Muslims, especially during Ramadan, when they break their fast at sunset. Ta'meya is eaten then as a meze, (appetizer )before the main meal.

In Egypt, it's often eaten for breakfast, or as a snack in the middle of the day, but either way, it's a sandwich.

In the small and intertwining streets of the main market in Cairo, Khan al-Khalili, you can find small food stalls or restaurants scattered throughout the maze. I remember one stall I found that had amazing taameya. Everything, as usual, was wonderfully fresh. The falafel was fried right there, thrown into a fresh pita, or 'aish baladi' (country bread), and stuffed with tahina, pickled turnips, pickles, and tomatoes. Mmmmm

Fresh bread is magic

The fresh pita, is one point that makes the falafel particularly tasty in Egypt. It's a pita bread that you can rarely find anywhere else. It's thick, and airy on the inside and has cracked wheat and bran throughout it.

I just found a place now that makes this bread; which is amazing since my stash of frozen pita from Egypt ran out a long time ago. No one seems to know a set recipe on how it's made, but it's served throughout the country-side, and all the bakeries in the city serve it up non-stop throughout the day. It's thought to be a recipe also dating back to the times of ancient Egyptians.

Back in my home growing up, falafel was not a popular dish. It's a little heavy to make at home because of the frying, and it is a little labour intensive. The few times we had it, my mom ripped open a box of pre-made falafel mix. Let me just say, while that is good; nothing beats how wonderfully satisfying a fresh one is. And since it's unlikely to be a meal you'll eat often at home; make the fresh version so you get it right the first time.

And remember, it's not falafel without the broad beans....

RECIPE

Total preparation and cooking time: 30 minutes
Yield: 6 to 8 persons

INGREDIENTS:

2 cups green broad beans (when cooked)
fresh coriander
fresh parsley
fresh dill (optional) or 1 tablespoon dry dill
1 onion (or green onions)
4 cloves garlic

1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon baking soda
salt/pepper
cooking oil
white sesame seeds (optional)

Fresh pita bread
tahina
olive oil
lemon juice

Pickled turnips

Pickled vegetables

Fresh cucumber or tomato

Green onion (optional)

DIRECTIONS:

1. If you bought dried beans, you will need to soak them for at least six hours.

2. Once they are soft enough to mash, peel the skins off.

3. If you bought beans frozen or canned, the skins may already be off, but check first by rolling one in your fingers, if the skin comes off easily, then you will need to do the same to the rest.

4. If you have a food processor, add the beans, onions, garlic, spices and baking soda and purée.

5. If you don't have a food processor, chop finely the onions and garlic and add the spices.

6. Mash the beans with a masher or fork and add to the onion mixture.
7. Grab a hand full of coriander and parsley
8. Finely chop the herbs and add it to the bean mix.

9. Mix everything well until it is a consistency that holds a shape.

10. If it feels too soft, add a bit of flour until the consistency is a bit drier.

11. Using your hands, grab about a tablespoon size of the mix and shape it into a little patty.

12. If you have sesame seeds, dip the patty into the seeds, if not, dip lightly into some flour.

13. Continue this process until the mix is done.

14. Heat the oil in a pan and fry each patty until it is a golden brown on both sides.

15. Put all the fried ta'meya on some paper towel to soak up any excess oil.

16. Prepare the tahina using the recipe from earlier.

17. Cut up the cucumber and/or tomato and green onions.

18. Cut up the pita bread into halves.

19. Add some tahina to the bread, a couple falafel, and some vegetables and pickles.

20. Eat and enjoy!!

The trick to good falafel is eating them when they are still warm, and making sure your bread is fresh. The falafel does keep for about five days, so you can keep eating them all week long.