Eggplants Stuffed with Cheese and Walnuts

(We are currently traveling, and apparently in a country that randomly blocks blogging sites. It took me awhile, but I eventually figured out why I couldn't access anything. I've got a work around for the time being, here's hoping it continues to work. Cheers to free speech everyone!)

I couldn't resist buying these eggplants the other day, they were so firm and slender and fresh looking. But then I came home and got busy, and realized that most of the things I'd do with them- making stuffed eggplants with rice and meat, or makdous, or fettat makdous, were all pretty labor intensive, and I was quite a bit lazy.



So instead, inspired by the most popular of Lebanese bloggers, I made this simplified version. First, you fry the eggplants lightly in olive oil until their outsides are well seared. Then you saute a diced onion in the same pan. While the onion is softening you slit the eggplants and stuff them with a mixture of seasoned goat cheese and walnuts. You add tomatoes to the pan, making a simple tomato sauce, and then you nestle the eggplants in the pan, cover and cook until done.

It sounds like it has quite a few steps, but really all you need is one cutting board, one bowl, and one pan to do this whole thing. Plus it's a one dish meal, some rice or bread and you're good to go.


Eggplants Stuffed with Cheese and Walnuts

6-12 small slim eggplants, peeled in stripes
6 oz goat cheese
1/2 cup walnut pieces
1 pinch each cumin and cinnamon
1 small onion, diced
3 cups chopped tomatoes (fresh or canned)
1 small garlic clove, sliced
salt, black pepper, olive oil

1.Mix together the goat cheese, walnuts, cumin, cinnamon, and black pepper in a bowl.
2. In a large wide sauce pan, heat a generous amount of olive oil (around 1/2 to 1 cup). Saute the eggplants until browned on all sides - they will not be cooked all the way through. Remove the eggplants to paper towels.
3. Add the onion to the pan with the remaining oil and saute until softened and translucent. Add the tomatoes and sliced garlic to the pan and season with salt. Bring tomatoes to a simmer.
4. Meanwhile, cut a slit lengthwise down each eggplant. Stuff each eggplant with the goat cheese mixture.
5. When the tomatoes are no longer watery, nestle the eggplants in the tomato mixture, with the slit facing up so the stuffing does not spill out. Cover the pan and simmer over low heat for about 20 minutes. Check on the pan occasionally to make sure the tomato sauce does not become too dry. The dish is done when the eggplants are tender all the way through. Season again with salt and pepper.

Apricot Ma'amoul

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

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


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

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

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

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

Fakhda bil Furn: Roast Leg of Lamb

I hope everyone had a happy Easter (or Passover) holiday. I've been spending a lot of time following the recent events in Syria and wondering what I should say here in this space. Some good friends of mine traveled to Syria in early March, before any hint of crisis, and sent me the most wonderful letter. In it he writes,

"and then the men's club always loud with talk as the men play backgammon or cards in clouds of cigarette smoke on wooden tables in wooden chairs. It is the same quality sound I heard outside a Czech men's bar before the wall fell, hearty unabashed civilized man buzz, a beautiful song of comradery, and I'm not talking NFL fanny patting."

It is such a beautiful letter, and that image, the image of Syria like East Germany before the wall fell, is one that rings true for me now. I've been closely following blogs and facebook, checking in with my Syrian friends, reading the nuanced reporting of Anthony Shadid and Cal Perry. I have much to say, perhaps too much to say, but all I will say now is that I hope all the Syrians I've known, kind, generous, welcoming people, are staying safe and out of harms way.



For Easter (or really any holiday), we have a very festive dish called fakhda bil furn, which translates to leg of lamb in the oven. The lamb is very simple, marinated with garlic and spices and roasted in the oven until just done. But it's the pilaf that accompanies the lamb that makes this a full dish. Here I've made the pilaf with freekia (roast green wheat) but it is often made with rice. The pilaf is studded with ground meat and onions and not. Often, this dish is a meat festival, the pilaf packed with pounds of ground meat. But I like to make the meat merely an accent in my pilaf, letting the spices and nuts come through as well (and also making the dish a tad lighter!).



The carving job we did in these photos is atrocious, but this can really be a beautiful dish. Present the carved lamb on top of the pilaf and toss some sauteed almonds and pistachios on top.


Fakhda bil Furn Roast Leg of Lamb with Pilaf

for roasting:
1 6-pound bone-in leg of lamb
2 carrots, roughly chopped
6-8 pearl onions, peeled

marinade:
2 garlic cloves
pinch salt
2 tbl olive oil
2 tbl white vinegar (or lemon juice)
1 tbl oregano
1/2 tsp each allspice, cinnamon, cumin
a few grinds of fresh black pepper

pilaf:
2 tablespoons butter
2 cups freekia or rice
1 large onion, diced
1/2 lb ground lamb
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
12 teaspoon cumin
1/3 cup pine nuts
1/3 cup blanched almonds
1/3 cup blanched pistachios
salt to taste


1. Trim all visible fat from the leg of lamb. Crush the garlic in a mortar and pestle with the salt. Mix in the remaining marinade ingredients and rub over lamb. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
2. Preheat oven to 425F. Straddle a large roasting pan over two burners. Sear the lamb on medium-high heat until browned on all sides. Transfer to the oven and roast for 20 minutes. Lower the heat to 325F, add the carrots and onions, and roast for an additional 45-60 minutes. The lamb should read about 130F on an instant-read thermometer for medium rare. (Time will vary depending on weight of lamb). Remove, tent with foil, and let rest before carving.
3. While the lamb is cooking make the pilaf. In a large pot, melt 1 tablespoon butter over medium-high heat. Saute the onion until translucent, then add the ground lamb and saute, breaking up into bits, until nicely brown. Add the freekia and spices and stir for a minute to toast. Add 4 cups of water, bring to a simmer, then cover the pot and cook on low heat. Cook until freekia (or rice) is tender, about 20-25 minutes.
4. In a small pan, melt the remaining butter, add the nuts and toast until golden.
5. Carve the lamb. Arrange the pilaf on a platter, place the lamb over top, arrange the roast carrots and onions around the lamb. Sprinkle the toasted nuts over the top and serve.

Currently Eating: Manoushe bi Kishik

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

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

The Fat of the Matter (A Special Kibbeh Recipe)

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



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



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

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



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


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

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

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

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

Basic Technique: Red Pepper Paste

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



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

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




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

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

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

Potato Kibbeh

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



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



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

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

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

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

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

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

Lebanese Style Stuffed Squash (Koosa Mehshi)

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

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



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

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

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



Lebanese Style Stuffed Squash (Koosa Mehshi)

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

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

Samkeh Harra (Spicy Fish from Tripoli)

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

Moussaka

My mother used to make a version of moussaka out of Craig Claiborne's "New York Times International Cookbook," a book she loved dearly. It was a towering affair, filled with lamb and eggplant and tomatoes and topped with a thick bechamel sauce. When my mother made it, it always came out looking a bit like the tower of Pisa, and you wondered which slice would finally send the concoction sliding off, meat in one direction, eggplant in another.

Years later, I discovered that there was a Lebanese version of moussaka, also with eggplant, but very different in composition. Here moussaka, from مسقعة‎ or "chilled," is a simple vegetarian stew of eggplant, tomatoes and chickpeas. Despite the name, it can be served hot or cold, and falls into the category of many Levantine vegetarian dishes often eaten during times of fasting or abstinence, such as Lent.

I can't remember where I learned to make it the way I do, leaving few eggplants whole, and arranging them artfully for presentation, but I like the way it looks. This dish works best if you can find small and slender eggplants.



Moussaka

6 small slender Japenese-style egpplants, or 3 larger eggplants, halved
2 onions, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 cups diced tomatoes, preferably fresh but canned is okay
1 1/2 cups cooked chickpeas
olive oil
salt
chopped parsley for serving

1. Peel the eggplants in alternating strips, leaving strips of the black flesh. Trim the tops and bottoms of the eggplants.
2. Choose a large wide skillet, a 9 inch cast iron or ceramic pan is great. Heat a generous amount of olive oil in the skillet. Add the eggplants to the skillet and cook over medium heat until browned in spots, but not cooked through. Work in batches if necessary. Remove to a paper towel to drain.
3. Take 2 of the eggplants (or eggplant halves) and dice.
4. Add more olive oil to the skillet, there should be about a 1/4 cup of olive oil to the skillet. Add the onion and garlic and saute until softened. Add the tomatoes, season with salt and pepper, and let cook down for about 10 minutes.
5. Stir in the chickpeas and the diced eggplant. Nestle the 4 whole eggplants in the skillet and cover with a tight fitting lid. Cook for 25 minutes, flipping the eggplants once halfway through.
6. Test the eggplants for doneness, and add more water if the tomatoes get dry. The dish is done when the eggplant is tender. Sprinkle with parsley before serving.

Kibbeh

I realized that despite a few lengthy entrees on kibbeh, I had never actually posted a recipe for the classic kibbeh, the Lebanese dumpling made with a meat shell and meat filling. I've only talked about kibbeh a few times here, and because it's so ubiquitous and common to me, I forget that it may not be to everyone else. A true Levantine food blog would probably have at least 10 variations on the meat kind of kibbeh alone. Shame on me, I headed straight to the store to get some lamb and remedy the situation.

Kibbeh is a bit tedious to make, but it usually makes a lot, and they keep and freeze pretty well, and they are very satiating. Essentially, you make a dough out of ground meat, bulgur, and seasonings. This dough is made by processing the meat to very smooth paste, a sort of sticky blob. For those used to the delicate patting-together of hamburgers, this is the exact opposite technique. By grinding up the meat you change to texture of its proteins, helping it adhere together better. This is the same principle as making ground meat kebabs, and how you get them to actually stay wrapped around the skewer.



The kibbeh filling is simply sauteed ground meat, onions, spices, and pine nuts. This kind of kibbeh is almost requisite on any mezzeh table, where people will often dip their kibbeh into a bit of hummus. But kibbeh is also a staple at home, where the fried kibbeh balls can be added to a sauce, such as a warm yogurt sauce, a lemony-tahini sauce, or a sauce of swiss chard and tomatoes, and then served over rice. Yes, it's labor intensive, but it wouldn't be Levantine if it wasn't.



Kibbeh
If you have Middle Eastern grocery nearby, you want the finest grade bulgur. I could only find larger bulgur at my local store, but it's just as good, only leaves a slightly more rustic texture. Make sure to work with damp hands to prevent the mixture from sticking. This same kibbeh recipe can be made in a tray (place half the shell on the bottom, filling in the middle, then top with the remaining shell and bake).

shell:
1 lb ground beef, lamb, or veal, preferably twice-ground by your butcher
1 cup fine grade bulgur
1/2 an onion, diced
1 teaspoon seven-spice mix*
1 tablespoon kosher salt

filling:
1 pat of butter
1/2 lb ground lamb
1 onion diced
pinch seven-spice mix plus salt to taste
1/2 cup pinenuts

For the shell:
1. Place the bulgur in a bowl and pour boiling water to cover. Let sit for 5 minutes, until bulgur is softened, then drain any excess water.
2. Place meat in a food processor and process until finely ground, and a somewhat sticky consistency. Add the remaining ingredients (bulgur, onion, seasonings) and process to a smooth paste. Refrigerate for a couple hours.

For the filling:
3. Fry the onion and spices in some butter until the onion is pale golden and caramelized. Add in the lamb and fry until cooked through. Add the pine nuts in the last few minutes just to toast. Set filing aside to cool.

4. Get a bowl of water and a baking sheet lined with plastic wrap. Having the shell and filling ready. Moisten your hands with the water. Take a spoonful of the shell mixture in your hand and press your thumb into the middle to make a cavity. Work the shell around your thumb to make it as thin as possible. Add a small spoonful of filling to the cavity and pinch closed, making a sort of smooth football shape. Continue making kibbeh balls, keeping your hands moist to prevent to meat from sticking.

5. Heat a large pot of oil to 350 F. Add the kibbeh, 3-4 at a time depending on the size of your pot, and fry until crisply browned. Drain on a paper towel. Serve warm or at room temperature.

* Seven Spice Mix: a mixture of black and white pepper, allspice, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and coriander.

Semolina Cake (Old Fashioned Sfouf)

There are several semolina-based cakes in Middle Eastern cuisine that go by a variety of names. Basbousa, also known as namoura, is a dense semolina and yogurt cake which is soaked in syrup. Sometimes it has coconut added as a variation. On the lighter end of the spectrum is the Lebanese cake sfouf, which is a fluffier semolina cake that's barely sweet. It's mildly reminsicent of a slightly sweet Southern-style cornbread.

I was reading recently about how sfouf was originally made with carob molasses, one of the original natural sweeteners in the region. It is a molasses made from the pods of the carob tree, carob may also be familiar to you as a chocolate substitute. So, I thought I'd give the recipe a try with a jar of carob molasses we picked up on the Mediterranean island of Gozo.

As, I mixed the cake, I realized something was terribly wrong. Carob molasses is horribly bitter, and with that as the only sweetener, the cake batter actually tasted bad. Worse, the batter looked curdled. I started over, this time with half the amount of carob and good splash of honey and brown sugar.

I was still skeptical about the whole endeavor, but went ahead trepidatiously with the baking. Paul was the first to taste it, and without knowing the history, pronounced it to be quite good. And indeed, it's caramelly and not too sweet, crumbly and simple. It's not as fluffy as modern versions of sfouf, but its denseness lends itself nicely to a scoop of ice cream or some cooked fruit. I'm all for authenticity and old traditions, as long as it tastes good first.

Semolina Cake (Sfouf)

1 1/2 cups semolina
3/4 cup flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon ground anise, optional
1/2 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup milk
1/3 cup carob molasses
1/3 cup honey
2 tablespoons brown sugar
pine nuts for decoration

1. Preheat oven to 350 F. Grease an 8x8 inch baking pan with butter or tahini.
2. Mix semolina, baking powder, anise, and flour in a large bowl. Add the butter and using a pastry blender or two forks, mix until crumbly. Stir in the milk, carob molasses, honey, and brown sugar to make a smooth batter. Pour into the prepared pan, dot the top with pine nuts if desired. Bake for 30-40 minutes, until firm and golden.

Shish Barak (Lebanese Meat Dumplings in Yogurt Sauce)

A friend called me yesterday to ask me why I haven't updated the blog? Oh dear, that is bad isn't it? I have a good explanation though- you see, I went to Texas for a lovely Thanksgiving, got home on a hectic Sunday and dumped my smelly jeans and farm boots into the laundry, refilled my suitcase with a couple suits and linen trousers, and headed to the Middle East for a work trip. Work trips being what they are, there was a lot of flying, a lot of meetings, and very little fun time, other than some good food and vodka-mint-lemonades.

But I'm happy to be home and I've had this recipe in my queue, eager to share it here. It's the Lebanese version of meat dumplings, called shish barak. Really, who doesn't like dumplings people? Especially dumplings filled with warm cinnamon and cumin spiced beef and bathed in warm yogurt sauce.



I've eaten shish barak before, but this was my first time making them. As I stirred the beef and onions, the dish just smelled right. Have you ever had that feeling, recreating a dish you've had before, when it just tastes like it should?

Traditionally the dumplings are made with a homemade flour dough and then baked. However, some people fry the dumplings, and I went with the slightly alternative method of steaming the dumplings. It's not as traditional, but I like the lighter texture it yields. Also, I have terrible dumpling forming skills. I need to go to dumpling remedial school. But if you're more talented than me, you can form the dumplings with little woven seams.

I shouldn't have needed any prompting to share this dish here, after all it's pretty tasty, but sometimes we all need a little encouragement.

Shish Barak (Lebanese Meat Dumplings in Yogurt Sauce)
Cheaters tip: if you don't want to make the dough yourself, you can use wonton wrappers instead. If you do use wonton wrappers you cannot bake the dumplings but must steam them.

dough:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 cup cold water
1 teaspoon salt

filling:
1 tablespoon butter or ghee
1 lb ground beef (or lamb)
1 onion, minced
1/4 teaspoon each cinnamon, allspice, and cumin
salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons chopped cilantro

yogurt sauce:
1 quart plain yogurt (not fat-free, not Greek style)
1 egg white
1 tablespoon cornstarch

1. Combine the dough ingredients in bowl until combined, knead lightly. Let rest 1 hour (while you prepare the filling). Roll out the dough as thinly as possible, then cut into 3" rounds and flatten with a rolling pin.
2. For the filling, heat the butter in a skillet. Add th eonions and saute until translucent. Add the ground beef spices, and cilantro and saute, breaking up the beef, until nicely browned and cooked through.
3. Form dumplings with the dough and filling, run a little water along the edge of the dumpling so you can pinch them closed in whatever manner works for you.
4. Bake dumplings at 350 F for 10-15 minutes, or until dough is firm and lightly golden, or steam them over boiling water for about 10 minutes, until dough is cooked through.
5. For yogurt sauce: Beat together egg white, cornstarch, and 1 tablespoon water until combined. Combine egg white mixture with yogurt in a saucepan. Heat over medium heat, stirring constantly, until yogurt mixture is slightly thickened and warm.
6. Combine yogurt mixture and dumplings on a platter. Garnish with chopped cilantro or mint or sauteed pine nuts. Serve immediately.

Musakhan - Bread-Wrapped Roast Chicken

There is a chicken carcass simmering in a pot of water on my stove and my house smells wonderfully of burgeoning chicken stock. But the cause of this smell is something even more excellent and tasty - bread-wrapped roast chicken. This is a Palestinian dish found across the Levant called musakhan. Musakhan, which literally means "warmed," consists of chicken pieces and caramelized onions wrapped up in swaths of of flatbread and baked until the chicken falls off the bone and the bread absorbs all those good chicken juices.

You'll see many different versions of this across the Middle East, including fast food versions that include flatbread dough with onions and chicken baked on top. But the traditional version wraps the chicken in a kind of bread called marquq, a very thin flatbread made on a saj grill. A good Middle Eastern grocery will have marquq, but other thin flatbreads, like shraq or lavash will also work.

When I once described this dish to a friend, she exclaimed, "bread-wrapped roast chicken, that sounds like a dream!" And indeed, it is excellent. The bread, which is soft and full of chickeny juices on the bottom and crisp and crackly no top, the deep flavor of caramelized onions, the fleck of sumac, the tender meat. It's the sort of weeknight comfort food you can eat all week long.

Musakhan
While you can include the chicken wings in the pan, I find the wings are boney and take up too much space in the pan, so I usually set them aside from another use. I like to double or triple the bread on the bottom, so that it absorbs chicken and onion juices, but I like only one layer of crispy bread on the top.

1 chicken (about 3 1/2 lbs), butchered into 2 legs, 2 thighs, 2 breasts
good quality olive oil
2 large sweet onions, or 3 medium size ones
1/4 cup sumac
3-4 sheets marquq bread
salt, pepper

1. In a large, wide skillet, heat a small glug of the olive oil, then lightly brown the chicken on all sides over medium heat, removing to a plate as they brown. Remove and set aside. Add some more olive oil to the skillet and cook the onions until translucent, about 35 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the sumac and cook for 2 minutes to mix.

2. Preheat the oven to 325F. Grease an 8x8 inch baking dish or large casserole, then line with two or three stacked sheets of marquq bread, or two halves of Arabic-style bread. Spoon half the onions over each, then arrange the chicken on top of the onions and cover with the remaining onions and the juices from the casserole. (You want the chicken and onion to be crowded in the pan, this prevents the bread from burning.) Cover with a single sheet of marquq bread or halves of Arabic bread, tucking in the sides crusty side up and sprinkling some water over top. Place into the oven.

3. After the first 20 minutes, cover the dish with aluminum foil. Bake until the chicken is very tender and almost falling off the bone, a total of about 1 1/ 2 hours. Keep an eye on the bottom of the pan, if you see juices bubbling in the bottom of the pan add some water to the bottom of the pan so they don't burn.

3. Let rest a few minutes, then serve. Makes good leftovers.

Note: The size of marquq bread varies, so use common sense.