Recipe: Tabbouleh (Couscous style)

You learn something new every day, and yesterday, I learned two new things. First, Randall's on Holcombe Blvd. does not sell bulgur wheat. Second, some forms of traditional tabbouleh are made with couscous. This latter fact was especially heartening, especially since the former revelation initially caused a certain woman craving a refreshing Syrian mezze much consternation. And with a box already at home, she didn't even have to rely on Randall's for the couscous. Suck it, Randall's. (Just kidding. Thanks for the sale on parsley!)

Bulgur wheat gives rise to a grittier, heartier tabbouleh, while couscous tends to soften what is otherwise a very fibrous mixture. I find it also absorbs olive oil more readily, so don't over-pour lest you want your salad very slick. 

Ingredients

• 1 cup cooked couscous

• 1 bunch of parsley (about 2 cups chopped)

• 1 medium tomato (about 3/4 cup chopped)

• 1 small white onion (about 3/4 cup chopped)

• 3/4 cup chopped mint

• 1/4 cup olive oil

• 3 tablespoons lemon juice

Directions

1. Cook couscous according to instructions; usually, this involves a 1.5:1 ratio of hot water to rice.

2. Combine all vegetable ingredients in a deep bowl.

3. Incorporate cooled couscous vigorously into mixture.

4. Add liquid ingredients and toss such that salad is liberally coated.

5. Eat right away.

(Not So) Foul Salad

The first challenge with Foul is that its name is unfortunately an unappealing English cognate.

The second challenge with  Foul is finding its star ingredient, fava beans, also known as broad beans also known as faba beans also known as field beans also known as bell beans also known as pigeon peas also known as horse beans...you get the picture. Turns out, a fava bean by any other name is still a fava bean.

Kroger's canned vegetable aisle boasted at least 20 different types of beans but none of them were labeled with the aforementioned monikers. On a hunch, I skipped to the "International Foods" section and located a can of "Pigeon Peas" on the English shelf.  Hurrah.

After that, it's pretty simple. Fava beans are prominently featured in many Arab dishes, including some common in Syria, in part because they're easy to grow and yield abundant harvests even under harsh conditions. Usually, fava beans are incorporated into a mezze or side dish and sometimes even are presented warm and mashed. I wanted to preserve the integrity of the beans' shape and texture, so I kept them whole and took a cue (once again) from Syrian Foodie in London in assembling a salad.

Ingredients

• 2 cups canned fava beans (drained)--or if you're really ambitious (I'm not!) cook fresh ones

• 3 tablespoons cilantro

• 1 tablespoon minced garlic

• 1 tablespoon lemon juice

• 2 tablespoons olive oil

• salt and pepper to taste

Directions

1. Combine beans, cilantro, garlic, and lemon juice well. 

2. Slowly stir in olive oil. Season with salt and pepper. Garnish with lemon slice.

Eat right away with a fork, or more preferably, with pita and sparkling apple cider.

Recipe: Sujuk (Syrian sausage...sort of) With Hummus

Sujuk is apparently a very common Syrian dish as well as a specialty of Damascus but I managed not to eat it during my two trips. I even dined twice at Naranj, where SyrianFoodieinLondon enjoyed sujuk with hummus and it escaped my notice. Fail. One more reason why it's important to do research before you visit a country in order to compile a comprehensive eating itinerary. But also another reason (as if I needed more) to return to Syria.

Ingredients

• Hummus (duh)

• 1 pound minced lamb

• 1 tablespoon ghee (clarified butter)

• 2 teaspoons paprika

• 2 teaspoons dried chili flakes

• 1 tablespoon minced garlic (or garlic powder if you're strapped)

• 2 teaspoons allspice

Directions

1. Pan-fry the lamb in ghee until it just begins to turn brown.

2. Add garlic and spices.

3. Lower heat and cook until all water has evaporated and lamb begins to get crispy (but not dry!). Might take 20-30 minutes. 

Spoon onto hummus and eat straight with a spoon. Or, with pita bread if others are watching.

Recipe: Fatayer

I'm trying to step it up a notch with regards to the complexity of the recipes I'm attempting, and to that end, I made fatayer this past weekend. Fatayer (spinach pies) are popular all over the Middle East and a staple of mezze menus in Damascus. The biggest challenge is shaping the dough into compact triangles around a heaping tablespoon or so of filling. After a few false starts, I got the hang of it. If you don't have time to make dough, you can use store-bought pie crust.

DOUGH

Ingredients

• 1 tablespoon active dry yeast

• 1 teaspoon sugar

• 1 cup warm water

• 3 cups all-purpose flour

• 1 teaspoon salt

• 1/3 cup vegetable oil

DIRECTIONS

1. Activate yeast by dissolving it in 1/4 cup of warm water with sugar. Let rest 10 minutes.

2. Whisk together flour and salt in a medium bowl. With a spoon, create a well or small gap in the center of the dry mixture and add the oil and yeast mixture. 

3. Using an electric mixer, slowly combine the wet and dry ingredients. Add the remaining 3/4 cup of water slowly. 

4. Remove dough from bowl (will be sticky) and knead by hand about 5 minutes or until dough is firm.

5. Spritz a large bowl with cooking spray. Transfer dough into bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let dough rest until doubled in size (about 1.5 hours).

Lovely pockets of goodness.

FILLING & PIES

Ingredients

• 2 lbs frozen chopped spinach (thawed and patted until completely dry)

• 1 1/2 cups chopped yellow onion

• 1 teaspoon salt

• 1/4 cup lemon juice

• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

• 1/2 cup pine nuts

• sesame seeds for dusting

DIRECTIONS

1. Combine spinach, onion, salt, lemon juice, cinnamon, and pine nuts.

 

2.  Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

3. Dust a large cutting board or surface with flour. Roll out the dough to 1/8 thickness and cut into circles (you can use a water glass) roughly 4 inches in diameter. Reknead dough and repeat until all dough is used up.

4. Place a tablespoon or so of filling in center of each dough circle. Fold sides around fillings to form a triangle. This recipe has some helpful photos.

5. Place fatayer on baking sheets and brush with olive oil. Sprinkle liberally with sesame seeds. Bake for 18-20 minutes until brown.

Serve hot to guests; eat cold leftovers the next day for breakfast.

Love For Liver, Part I: Kebdeh Mtajaneh

One of my many culinary-writing goals is to compose a cookbook comprising only recipes for liver (from all different animals).  People who discount the edible potential of this organ due to its metallic taste (easily masked or eradicated through proper preparation) are missing out not only on a terrific offal experience but also on an incredibly cheap powerhouse source of nutrients.

I spend a lot of time reading Syrian Foodie in London for inspiration, so when I came across not one but TWO recipes involving liver, I was extremely excited. And, remarkably, I had all the ingredients on hand already save the liver itself.

Like Syrian Foodie in London, I substituted chicken livers for the more traditional lamb livers due to the former's availability. But next pass I will try the latter if I can track some down.  Recipe below is slightly adapted from the original.

Ingredients

• 1 pound chicken livers

• 2 or 3 tablespoons olive oil

• 2 tablespoons chopped garlic

• 2 tablespoons chopped coriander

• 1 red chili (chopped)

• Salt

• Pepper

• Lemon

Directions

1. Pat chicken livers completely dry with paper towel.

2. Remove any gristle. Or not. (I like the little fatty bits.)

3. Heat olive on medium heat in a wide saucepan.

4. Add liver, garlic, and chili. Cook for about 6-8 minutes until livers show just a smidge of pink.

5. Add coriander, some salt and pepper, then cook until livers are just brown (about 2 more minutes). You want the livers to be tender, so don't overcook.

6. Garnish with more coriander and squeeze of lemon.

I ate this liver with some popcorn and a nice Chardonnay. 

Recipe: (Just) Mutubal

Last June I made  mutubal shawandar, which despite its garish color exacerbated by my bad food photography, was light, lovely, and incredibly refreshing in the height of the humid season.

This week I embarked on a brief vegan challenge with my favorite masshole Zach and therefore was limited in what Syrian recipes I could test. Not that there's any dearth of vegetable-heavy dishes in that country's culinary canon, for as in many Western nations, Syrians use meat more often for garnish and flavoring rather than as the main event. 

Mutubal is as simple to make as mutubal shawandar as the former swaps out beets for roasted eggplant. It should be noted that eggplants are not in season. It should also be noted that I do not care because I LOVE EGGPLANT AND NO ONE WILL STOP ME FROM EATING IT. This is basically me:

Mucho credit to Cousin Phil at Deviant Art.

But I otherwise I really try to eat what's in season, I swear. Here is a short and sweet recipe for mutubal, adapted from FashionEdible.

INGREDIENTS
2 cups roasted eggplant (chopped)
2 tablespoons minced garlic
2 tablespoons tahini
1/2 cup plain yogurt (or silken tofu if you're on a vegan challenge)
1/2 lemon (juiced)

DIRECTIONS

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

2. Slice eggplant into discs no thicker than one half inch.

3. Coat each disc liberally with salt and arrange them so they line the insides of a colander.

4. "Sweat" eggplant slices for approximately 15 minutes. Rinse and pat dry.

5.  Arrange eggplant on foil-lined baking sheet and spritz with olive oil spray. Roast in oven for 20-30 minutes.

6. Remove eggplant from oven and chop into cube-size pieces.

7. Combine eggplant with garlic, tahini, yogurt, and lemon juice in a food processor or blender. Pulse into smooth.

8. Garnish with olive oil.

Muhammara For the Win!

1. Guacamole meet your Middle Eastern match: Muhammara.  Although not strictly Syrian, Muhammara seemed particularly appropriate to make for the Superbowl since that's the one day each year when consuming nothing but dip and chips for dinner is practically your patriotic duty.

You know what's also your patriotic duty? Welcoming immigrants and refugees. Because I'm willing to bet your great-great-grandma was one. But I digress.

Muhammara is extremely easy to make if you're luck enough to have a food processor. If you're not, little birds on the interwebs tell me that a mortar and pestle and a blender can also help, too. 

The recipe below (slightly adapted) is from the New York Times:

Ingredients

• 1 large roasted red bell pepper, chopped

• 1/2 cup chopped onions

• 1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

• 1 teaspoon ground cumin

• 3 teaspoons pomegranate molasses

• 1 teaspoon salt

• 1 teaspoon red pepper flakes

• 4 tablespoons olive oil

• 1/2 cup walnuts

• 5 tablespoons bread crumbs (or cracker crumbs, in a pinch)

Directions

1. In a large bowl, mix together pepper, scallions, lemon juice, cumin, salt, 2 teaspoons pomegranate molasses, 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes, 3 tablespoons olive oil, and walnuts (but save 2 or 3 for garnish!).

2. Add mixture to food processor and purée until smooth.

3. Add bread crumbs and pulse again. Season to taste with salt and red pepper flakes. 

4. Transfer to a bowl. Use a tablespoon to make a small well in the center. Drizzle 1 tablespoon olive oil, 1 teaspoon pomegranate molasses, and 1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes into the well. Garnish with remaining walnuts.

Tabouleh Trials

Second attempt at Syrian cuisine was again an exercise in simplicity (I hoped). I googled "Syrian tabouli" (change in spelling noted) and used the first recipe I found on syriancooking.com.  It is one of the most comprehensive Syrian food blogs on the web with a diverse array of recipes for appetizers, mains, desserts, and side dishes.

Is it completely blasphemous that I used Spanish olive oil and paprika?

Unfortunately, halfway through the preparation I discovered the ingredient portions were incomplete, specifically the amount of paprika: "1/2 [WHAT??] paprika."  So, I had to guesstimate based on other recipes' proportions. 

The result was nevertheless delicious, though the texture a bit rough thanks to my rather frantic chopping skills, which gave rise to inconsistently sized vegetable chunks.

Tabouleh landscape.

To be refined at a later date...