Herbs & Spices

Trid is described as the poor man’s bstilla. It is also said that the Prophet would have liked it best. He is known to have been fond of onions, and here a huge mass is reduced to a creamy sauce. I prefer it too.

In Turkey and Egypt during the period of the Ottoman Empire, the women in the harems, the wives and concubines of the Sultans and aristocracy, were the widows and daughters captured at war. The Circassians among them were known for their beauty and their culinary skills. This classic is part of their legacy. The recipe was given by Luli Fevsi and comes from the kitchens of the old Ottoman aristocracy in Egypt. It is a cold dish which may be served as an hors d’oeuvre or as part of a buffet table.

I like to make this Lebanese salad with basmati rice, because the grains stay very separate.

The combination of raisins and pine nuts was brought by the Arabs all the way to Spain and Sicily.

I love this Moroccan salad. The eggplants are boiled, not fried, so it is not oily. It is best made several hours in advance so that the flavors have time to penetrate.

Broken pieces of toasted pita bread are sometimes placed at the bottom of the serving dish to become well moistened and soggy with the dressing.

The fragrance of mint goes well with cucumber.

Tomatoes are banadoura in Arabic and tamatem in Egypt.

This is a homely version of the very green parsley-and-mint salad with buff-colored speckles of bulgur wheat you find in all Lebanese restaurants all over the world. Like many items on the standard Lebanese restaurant menu, it was born in the mountain region of Zahlé, in the Bekáa Valley of Lebanon, where the local anise flavored grape liquor arak is produced. Renowned for its fresh air and its natural springs and the river Bardaouni, which cascades down the mountain, the region acquired a mythical reputation for gastronomy. In 1920 two cafés opened by the river. They gave away assorted nuts, seeds, olives, bits of cheese, and raw vegetables with the local arak. Gradually the entire valley became filled with open-air cafés, each larger and more luxurious than the next, each vying to attract customers who flocked from all over the Middle East with ever more varied mezze. The reputation of the local mountain-village foods they offered, of which tabbouleh was one of the jewels, spread far and wide and became a national institution. What started as a relatively substantial salad, rich with bulgur, was transformed over the years into an all-green herby affair. When the first edition of my book came out, I received letters telling me I had too much bulgur in that recipe. One letter from Syria explained that mine was the way people made the salad many years ago, when they needed to fill their stomachs. You see, many of my relatives left Syria for Egypt a hundred years ago, and that was how they continued to make it. The following is a contemporary version.

A specialty of Jehan, in southern Turkey, this is served as a dip with fried mussels or baked fish, or as an accompaniment to salads and boiled vegetables, such as runner beans or cauliflower.

This version has a delicate flavor and is rather creamier than most. My mother discovered it in the Sudan, and has made it ever since. It can be a dip or a sauce.

Serve as an appetizer with pita bread, or as a sauce to accompany various dishes such as fried fish, boiled vegetables, and falafel.

A curious gelatinous relish with a slightly bitter flavor is made with fenugreek seeds. It is an acquired taste that can become addictive. Eat it with bread to dip in. The flat square yellow-brown seeds need to be crushed or ground, so it is best to buy the fenugreek in powder form. It needs to be soaked to remove some of the bitterness and to develop the gelatinous texture.

This is one of Egypt’s national dishes, welcome at all times, for breakfast, lunch, or supper. The Christian Copts, who are said to be pure descendants of the ancient Egyptians, claim this dish as their own, along with melokheya soup (page 146). Their claim might be justified, since these dishes are extremely old. During Coptic religious festivals, and particularly during Lent, when they are not allowed to eat meat for many weeks, every Coptic family produces mountains of ta’amia for their own daily consumption and to be distributed to non-Coptic friends and neighbors. Ta’amia (called “falafel” in Alexandria) are patties or rissoles made from large dried fava beans (ful nabed), which look white because they are sold skinless. Splendidly spiced and flavored, and deep-fried in oil, they are delicious. I have never known anyone not to like them. The best I have eaten were in Alexandria, with my aunt and uncle. Every year they rented a flat there, the balcony of which was directly above a café which specialized in ta’amia. My relatives were both rather large, which was not surprising, since we always seemed to come upon them eating; and I could never visualize them eloping, gazellelike, in their youth, which was the romantic legend that was told to us. On each visit, we would sit with them for hours on their balcony overlooking the sea. Time and again, a basket would be lowered on a rope to the café below and pulled up again with a haul of fresh ta’amia, sometimes nestling in the pouch of warm, newly baked Arab bread. We would devour them avidly with pieces of bread dipped in tahina salad, and then wait anxiously for the basket to be filled up again. You must buy the large broad beans which are sold already skinned as “split broad beans” in Middle Eastern stores (again, they look white without their brown skins).

Stuffed grape leaves were served at the court of King Khosrow II in Persia in the early seventh century. There are numerous versions today of this delicacy, which is popular in every country throughout the Middle East. Meat is used in the making of hot dolma, and cold dolma are without meat. In Egypt the meatless variety is called “false” or “lying” because there is no meat, but it is the most popular. This is my mother’s recipe. It is particularly aromatic. The leaves can be bought preserved in brine, but fresh ones have a better flavor. Only very young, fresh, tender ones picked in the spring will do. They freeze very well raw and wrapped in foil.

Traditional shish barak are tiny tortellini-like pies with a meat filling that are first baked and then cooked in a yogurt sauce. This “new-style” version of large, individual, coiled pies is inspired by Kamal Mouzawak (for his vegetarian alternative, see the variation). It is an exciting mix of flavors, textures, and temperatures and makes a beautiful presentation. The pastry used in Lebanon, rakakat, is different from fillo—it is softer and more pliable, like a paper-thin pancake—but fillo will do very well. Use the large sheets measuring about 19 × 12 inches that are normally sold frozen; see page 9 for hints on using fillo.

This makes a satisfying homely meal and is especially good when served with Vermicelli Rice (see page 304).

This dish is complex and requires time, but it has dramatic appeal and it is quite delicious with layers of different textures and flavors. I like to add two ingredients that are optional: pomegranate molasses (see page 7), which gives a brown color and sweet-and-sour flavor to the tomato sauce, and tahini (see page 7), which gives a nutty flavor to the yogurt. Look for small eggplants, 4 to 4 1/4 inches long, which can usually be found in Middle Eastern and Asian stores.

Poussins in this country tend to have a somewhat bland flavor, but with lemon, sumac, and olive oil they are a treat.