Stew

The particular quality of this stew, which I hated as a child, lies in its texture. The knuckle or shin of veal (we called it bitello, from the Italian vitello) contains the large leg-bone and marrow. The connective tissue turns into gelatin while the meat becomes juicy and succulent. In Egypt, the potatoes were sliced and fried in oil before going into the stew, but I prefer to omit the frying.

This dish is uniquely Turkish, and was developed in the Ottoman palace kitchens. A current legend surrounding the name of the dish, which means “sultan’s delight,” places it in 1869, when the Sultan Abdul Aziz entertained Empress Eugénie, wife of Napoleon III, in his white rococo palace of Beylerbey, on the Asian side of the Bosporus. The Empress was ecstatic about the creamy eggplant sauce which served as the bed for a stew and asked for the recipe to be sent to her cooks. The Sultan’s cook explained that he could not give the recipe, because he “cooked with his eyes.” Serve it with rice.

Also called buraniya, this is one dish where I prefer to broil or grill the eggplants instead of frying them, before putting them in the stew. Serve with rice or bulgur or with bread.

A homely Egyptian dish using beef. Serve with rice or potatoes.

This is a common and much-loved dish of Egypt. You also find it in other countries. Use small okra—they are much nicer than the tougher large ones—and serve with rice or bulgur. Traditionally, okra is put in to cook at the same time as the meat, so that it becomes extremely soft and falls apart, but these days it is not uncommon to add it at a later stage, so that it remains firm. That is the way I like it.

This Syrian dish is made with a type of pasta called lissan al assfour (bird’s tongues) which looks like large grains of rice. It cooks in the sauce from the chicken and acquires a rich, spicy flavor and light-brown color. You will find it in Middle Eastern stores as well as in the pasta section of supermarkets, where it is called “orzo.” An apricot sauce, salsat mishmisheya, sometimes accompanies the dish .

The last time I ate this famous Moroccan dish was in a restaurant in Paris where there was an evening of Arab poetry and tales accompanied by musicians. It was not the best example of the dish, but I always find it enjoyable. I love the special flavor of preserved lemons. At every vegetable market in North Africa, and now also in the south of France, you can see stalls laden with huge piles of soft lemons oozing with juice beside several varieties of olives. The two are often used together. The pulp of the preserved lemon is discarded, and the skin alone is used. The word mqualli alludes to the way the chicken is cooked, with oil and only a little water.

A magnificent dish, and a stunning example of the way Moroccans mix savory and sweet. Chicken pieces are first stewed with lemon juice and saffron, then baked with a topping of almonds and honey.

This Moroccan tagine is one of my favorites. The chicken cooks in the juice of the tomatoes, which reduces to a sumptuous, thick, honeyed, almost caramelized sauce. And it looks beautiful too.

This was a family favorite that my mother often made.

In this delicately flavored and scrumptious Moroccan qdra, the long-cooked almonds should become very soft. As so often in Moroccan cooking, one onion is cooked first with the meat or chicken, and when these are nearly done, the remaining onions are added. The first onion is used to add flavor to the meat, and it practically melts and disappears into the sauce. The onions added later keep their shape and add body to the sauce.

Tunisia is famous for her fish dishes and her fish couscous. Here is one of the prestigious dishes which can be served with couscous. Prepare couscous as in the recipe on page 375 so that it is ready at the same time.

This dish does not look very nice—it is a muddy brown—but the flavors are deliciously rich and strong, and the meat is meltingly tender. Serve it with plain or Vermicelli Rice (page 304).

The name of this dish, which means “his mother’s milk,” implies that the meat of a young animal is cooked in its own mother’s milk. It can be made with small lamb shanks or with knuckle of veal (osso buco) or slightly fatty, cubed meat. I have used lamb shanks. Serve it with plain or Vermicelli Rice (page 304). The yogurt makes a wonderful, soupy sauce—so provide spoons, too.

The dish can be made with small lamb shanks or with knuckle of veal (osso buco) or slightly fatty, cubed meat. I have used lamb shanks, a cut not normally available in supermarkets. But butchers sell fresh ones from the foreleg weighing about 10 ounces and frozen ones from New Zealand from the back leg weighing from 14 to 16 ounces. Serve it with plain or Vermicelli Rice (see page 304). The yogurt makes a wonderful, soupy sauce so provide spoons, too.

This dish can be made with lamb shanks, knuckle of veal (osso buco), or with cubed meat such as shoulder of lamb. Butchers sell fresh lamb shanks from the foreleg weighing about 10 ounces and frozen ones from New Zealand from the back leg weighing from 14 to 16 ounces. Lamb shanks cooked for a long time have a wonderful tenderness and texture without being stringy, and they produce a rich stock. Although they take a long time to cook, they don’t need any attention. The sauce is the classic Turkish egg and lemon terbiyeli sauce.

One legend surrounding the name of the sauce, hünkâr beğendi, which means “Her Majesty’s delight,” places it in 1869 when the Sultan Abdul Aziz entertained Empress Eugénie (my Istanbul grandmother was named after her), wife of Napoleon III, in his white rococo palace of Beylerbey on the Asian side of the Bosphorus. The empress was so enchanted by the pale, creamy, eggplant purée that she asked for the recipe to be given to her cooks. The sultan’s cook explained that he could not pass on the recipe because he “cooked with his eyes and his nose.” In Turkey, they use mature kasar, a hard yellow cheese, or Gruyère in the sauce, but mature Cheddar can be used too. Serve it with rice pilaf (page 193).

This is a dish you can prepare well in advance. In Turkey, they may add a little grape molasses called pekmez, which you can buy in Turkish stores, but, for me, the dish is sweet enough as it is with the onions, chestnuts, and sugar. Serve it hot with plain rice or rice with chickpeas (see Variation page 193).

Traditionally, the Berbers first made couscous with barley, and barley couscous is still very popular, especially in the south of Morocco. It is now available in precooked form from some Middle Eastern stores. You can substitute ordinary couscous. You can make the broth with lamb, beef, or veal (preferably shoulder, neck fillet, or knuckle) and with a choice of vegetables. According to local lore, seven is a magic number that brings good luck. Onions, tomatoes, and chili peppers count as flavorings, so you must have seven more vegetables. I have listed eight, so drop one. The number of ingredients makes it seem a scary endeavor, but it is only a matter of throwing things into a pot, and it makes a spectacular one-dish meal for a large party. You will need a very big pot.

The best lamb to use for this tagine is either boned shoulder or neck fillet. Trim away some of the excess fat before cooking. Some supermarkets sell fresh shelled peas, which are young and sweet, but frozen petits pois will also do very well. If the olives are very salty, soak them in water for up to an hour.