I'm not a big baker of cakes, in fact I rarely attempt to bake anything, preferring instead to make savoury foods. Well, with the exception of Middle Eastern sweets. Basbousa (also known as hareesa, revani or ravani) lies somewhere in between a sweet and a cake. It's found thoughout North Africa and the Middle East, and also in Greece and Turkey, though its actual origins are probably Egyptian.
There are numerous recipies out there for basbousa, some using self raising flour in addition to semolina, some using eggs, some yoghurt, and some milk. I've gone for the yoghurt version as I think the tanginess of the yoghurt contrasts beautifully with the sweetness of the syrup. And about the syrup, some versions have a rose water syrup whereas others call for a plain simple syrup.
Don't worry about being too precise with the ingredients, like just about everything I make it doesn't call for exact measurements. Same with the cooking time, depending on the size of dish, efficiency of the oven and the phase of the moon it could take anything from 30 minutes to an hour :)
Ingredients
350g semolina
50g dessicated coconut
100g caster sugar
Vanilla extract (optional)
150g margarine (melted)
200g Greek yoghurt
3/4 tsp baking powder
1 pinch of salt
Blanched almonds (to decorate)
For the syrup
250ml water
225g sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon orange blossom water
1. Mix the semolina, baking powder, coconut, sugar and salt in a bowl
2. Stir in the melted butter, the mixture should look like damp sand
3. Add the yoghurt and vanilla extract (if using) and mix well. You should end up with a thick batter-like dough
4. Grease a baking dish (~ 27cm/10 inch) and spoon in the mixture. Smooth down and leave for around 20 minutes (Use this time to make the syrup and let the oven heat up...)
5. To make the syrup add the water and sugar to a pan and bring to the boil and then simmer for 5 minutes. Add the lemon juice (this will stop the syrup crystalising when it cools) and then add the orange blossom water. Leave to one side
6. Score the top of the cake mixture into lozenge shapes, and then put into a preheated oven (175C) for 20 minutes
7. It's not ready yet, you just want to reinforce the scoring, and if you're using almonds to decorate press them into the centre of each lozenge at this point (if you do it right at the start they tend to burn)
8. Put the cake back in the oven and cook for another 20-40 minutes. You want the top to be golden brown, as the cake is so moist cooking it for longer wont dry it out. Just keep checking on it!
9. Once the cake is cooked, take it out of the oven and pour on the sugar syrup. You may not need all the syrup (in fact you probably wont! Keep some aside to drizzle on the leftover yoghurt and top with dessicated coconut and chopped pistachios... delicious). Once it's drunk enough of the syrup it's ready to eat. Basbousa can either be eaten warm or cold.
When I was in Paris last November I found myself perusing the window displays of the many North African bakeries, entranced by the delicious looking offerings on sale. Particularly the makrouth and montecao (a shortbread type cookie). It was when I was making a batch of montecao the other weekend that I decided to use half the dough to make some ghriba - a cookie of many shapes and forms found over North Africa. I had an awful lot of pistachios in the cupboard, so decided that my cookies would be pistachio based. Incidentally 'ghriba' in Arabic means strange or foreign, indicating possibly
that these cookies come from elsewhere. They are popular among the North
African Jewish communities so it is possible
that they arrived via Spain...
A note about chickpea flour, uncooked it has a beany flavour with a
slightly bitter aftertaste however once cooked it gives the cookies a
delicious creamy texture with no flavour.
As with most of my recipes, quantities are approximate and nothing particulary bad should happen if you use a little more or less...
Ingredients
1 cup chick pea flour
100g blanched ground pistachios
1/2 cup sugar
50g margarine
Pinch of salt
4 cardamom pods (remove seeds and grind)
Natural green food colouring (optional)
1. If you can’t buy ready blanched peeled pistachios (can anyone?), boil
for a few minutes and then plunge into cold water. Remove the skins (an
easy way is to put your hands in the water and rub the pistachios
between your fingers, the skins should sink to the
bottom of the bowl), and once de-skinned blend to a paste. It doesn’t
have to be too smooth.
2. Add the chickpea flour to a bowl and mix with the sugar and ground cardamom seeds.
3. Stir in the ground pistachios, it doesn’t matter if the resulting mixture is a little lumpy
4. Melt the margarine, and slowly add to the dry ingredients (along with
green food colouring if using). This is one of those recipes that
doesn’t hinge on exact amounts, if your ground pistachios are more of a
paste than a powder then you’re likely to need less
margarine. You want the dough to form a fairly tight ball with minimal
crumbliness. Chickpea flour contains no gluten so you need something to help it stick together
5. Pinch off small pieces of dough (slightly smaller than golf ball size, I
tried to think up a suitable comparison object but drew a blank… ) roll
into balls and place on a baking tray
6. Bake for 15-20 minutes in a 175C oven, the cookies will initially be quite soft so
leave on the baking tray until cooled. While they are still soft you can
decorate them with slithers of almonds, pine nuts or pistachios.
7. Eat, perfect with coffee or mint tea if you are so inclined…
I love eating Indian and Pakistani sweets, but have never really attempted making them, partly because I live near so many great sweet shops and partly because a lot of the recipes are quite time consuming. However today a friend gave me a recipe for carrot halwa (well, more of a list of ingredients - quantities are left to the discretion of the cook...) and having nothing better to do on a wet Saturday afternoon I decide to cook up a batch. The end result was pretty tasty, I didn't have any kewra essence that the recipe called for, neither did I have any condensed milk, but to compensate I was quite generous with the amount of milk I used and cooked it down for longer. With regards to the sugar content you can use more or less depending on how much of a sweet tooth you've got and how sweet the carrots are. Cooking times are approximate as are quantities, it's a very forgiving recipe...
Ingredients
1/2 kg carrots
400ml milk
100g sugar
50g margarine (or ghee)
1 pinch of saffron
2 cardamom pods (whole)
seeds from 2 cardamom pods (ground)
50g pistachios, almonds, pine nuts or other nuts of your choice
dried fruit (optional, I didn't have anything in the house!)
1. Grate the carrots finely
2. Pour the milk in a heavy bottomed pan, add the whole cardamom pods and carrots and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until the milk has been absorbed and the carrots are soft. Takes around 45 minutes to an hour. Don't worry if it takes longer, it's all good! Fish out the cardamom pods at this stage if you don't want a nasty surprise of biting into one unawares...
3. Now add the margarine or ghee and turn up the heat. The idea is to fry the carrot mixture to give it some more flavour. Again, the time it takes may vary, you want to continue cooking until the mixture comes together in a lump (technical term)
4. Stir in the nuts (and dried fruit if using) and ground cardomom and cook for a few more minutes
5. Add the sugar, the mixture will suddenly start to look 'wet' don't worry, this is normal, now you need to continue stirring until the mixture starts to thicken and caramelise
6. Serve warm (best) or cold, with some additional nuts sprinkled over the top
It's winter... cold dark days and cold dark nights. At least here in northern Europe. A time for soups, stews and other comforting foods. I have to say dips probably would not be at the forefront of my mind under normal circumstances. However, at work we were having a buffet where everyone was to bring in some dishes. I had a butternut squash in the house that I'd planned on roasting and turning into a soup (actually to tell the truth, my immediate plans involved thoughts of hibernating until next year and I'd probably find the squash sometime in January turned into a mysterious pool of nastiness at the back of the cupboard) but looking at it with fresh eyes, I thought why not go for Tirshi? It's a spicy North African pumpkin-based dip that is popular in Israel, and would make a change from my usual offerings of hummous and baba ghanoush.
Ingredients
1 large butternut squash
1 small potato
2 cloves of garlic crushed
Salt and pepper to taste
1 tsp caraway seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
2 tablespoons harissa (or to taste)
Olive oil
1. The butternut squash and potato can either be boiled or roasted, roasting will give a much better flavour and a drier dip, but it all depends on time. I made this in a last minute rush, so I peeled and cubed the squash and potato and boiled for 30 minutes. Drain well
2. Mash the squash and potato until well combined
3. Roast the caraway and cumin seeds in a dry pan until fragrant, then grind
4. Add the crushed garlic, ground spices and salt and pepper to taste
5. Stir in the harissa, the brand I had was pretty mild so I put in a couple of tablespoons, if you want to amp up the heat (I was making it for work so thought I'd better play it safe) then some additional chilli or Aleppo pepper could be added
6. Add a splash of olive oil, et voila!
7. Eat: Delicious with crusty French bread, or pitta. Or anything really...
Despite appearances to the contrary, I don't actually have a sweet tooth. I do however have a weakness for Middle Eastern and North African sweets and pastries... Concentrated sweetness that goes perfectly with a cup of strong black coffee, maybe at the end of a meal, or maybe during a lazy afternoon. The sort of sweetness that caresses the throat and excites the taste buds. I was preparing a batch of maamouls at the weekend, and decided as I had an awful lot of semolina left, I'd try my hand at making makrouth (or makrout, makroud, makgrood depending on how the name's transliterated) a North African semolina pastry filled with dates. Traditionally fried and then soaked in a hot honey mixture, they are beyond delicious. I have to say, I went down a non-traditional route as far as the cooking process goes and baked them, but the end result seemed to be quite acceptible.
Ingredients
380g semolina
200g margarine (melted)
150ml orange flower water
1 pinch of salt
For the filling:
250g dates
1 tsp cinnamon
Orange flower water
1. Chop the dates roughly and add around 50-100ml of boiling water to them (the amount of water will depend on how soft your dates are. I love the really dense fudge-like dates but in the UK they are getting harder and harder to find in supermarkets as the pre-soaked ready-to-eat ones seem more in favour. Nice but they don't work as well in cooking. Leave the dates to soak for at least an hour (ideally overnight)
2. Put the semolina and a pinch of salt in a large bowl and pour in the melted margarine and the orange flower water. Mix the margarine into the dry semolina with your fingers until you have what resembles a bowl of damp sand. You don't want to overwork the dough, so there's no need to knead it, but slowly work it together until you have a firm ball. Wrap in cling film and leave for around 30 minutes (while you make the date filling)
3. Pour any excess water from the dates and blend until they become a smooth paste. Stir in the cinnamon and orange flower water. I haven't given quantities for the orange flower water because it all depends on how moist your date paste is. Ideally, you want something that you can form into a sausage shape.
4. Dividing the date mixture into four, roll into 'sausages'
5. Now divide the semolina dough into four pieces and roll out into a log, flattening slightly. It should be the same length as the date sausages
6. Make an indentation in the dough and add the date filling (hot dog in a bun analogy...)
7. Carefully pinch the sides together so the filling is completely encased in the dough, then roll it backwards and forwards to make sure it's all sealed in
8. Usually at this stage special moulds are used, however if you don't have a mould (I don't) just cut the log diagonally into 2cm wide pieces. If you're feeling adventurous you can decorate the top with a pattern
9. Bake the cookies in an oven preheated to 250C for around 20 minutes,or until they just start to brown
10. Once cooked, you can eat 'as is' or go for the dipped in honey option. I made a simple sugar syrup and added a good squeeze of honey and some orange flower water. I then poured the mixture over the cookies and let them soak for around 30 minutes. Serve with a sprinkling of sesame seeds.
Soup season is upon us. Well it is if you're living in the far flung
reaches of northern England. There's nothing like a bowl of steaming
soup on a cold Autumn day.
I seem to be getting a reputation locally as a rehomer for unwanted
vegetables, the latest offering being a bunch of beetroot from one of my
mother's neighbours. And never let it be said that I would ever turn down free vegetables! So... what do do with them. Borscht was the first thing that sprung to mind, but borscht whilst lovely, is a bit predictable
and the current cold weather called for something a little spicier. I'd
had kubbeh on my mind for a couple of weeks following an online
conversation, and suddenly the two came together: why not cook up a
batch of marak kubbeh adom (red kubbeh soup) an Iraqi
Jewish speciality and something that ticks the boxes as far as autumnal
food goes.
Kubbeh (or kibbe, kibbeh, kebbah, kubbi) are ubiquitous all over the Middle East raising their
heads in most of the cuisines, usually a combination of meat (typically
minced lamb) and bulgar wheat sometimes made into croquettes, sometimes
baked flat and pie-like. Probably the most common
form of kubbeh is fashioned from a bulgar wheat shell stuffed with
minced lamb. In red kubbeh soup, the kubbeh are simmered in a spicy
beetroot broth. I decided on a mushroom and black olive stuffing as a
good veggie alternative to the lamb (inspired partly
by my love of mushroom pierogi in borscht a speciality of a local
Polish restaurant) and the end result was quite delicious – even if I
say so myself! There's a lot written about kubbeh and at first glance
they sound like something a bit too time consuming
to make at home, but as with tamales, once you get into a rhythm it's
actually quite relaxing.
Ingredients
For the filling
100g black olives
100g mushrooms
Black pepper
2 garlic cloves (crushed)
Kubbeh dough
200 g bulgar wheat
100 g semolina
2 tbs flour
1 tsp salt
Hot water for soaking
Soup
2 large beetroot cubed
1 large carrot cut into battons
1 onion chopped finely
2 cloves garlic
1 small bunch of coriander
1 small bunch parsley
1 sprig tarragon
1 tsp mixed herbs
2 tbs smoked paprika
1 tsp sumac
2 tsp cumin
2 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp mustard seeds
1 tbs balsamic vinegar
800ml vegetable stock
For the filling
1. Fry the mushrooms and garlic in olive oil until soft, if they release a
lot of liquid turn up the heat and boil rapidly until all the liquid
evaporates. Grind in some fresh black pepper to taste
2. Stir in the chopped olives and leave to one side to cool
Soup
1. Fry the onion and garlic until softened, add the carrot battons and cubed beetroot and sauté for 5 minutes
2. Stir in the dried spices and add the stock and fresh herbs
3. Bring to the boil and simmer on a very low heat for around 1 hour
Kubbeh
While the soup is cooking prepare the kubbeh.
1. Put the bulgar wheat into a
large bowl and pour over enough boiling water to cover by around 2cm. Some recipies call for use of different size bulgar. In the UK unless you go to specialist stores it's a case of "work with what you've got" I had a couple of bags from different supermarkets which happened to have different sized grains, so I mixed them. Using all one size should work just fine
2. Leave to soak for 40 minutes, keep topping up the water if necessary making sure it’s fully submerged
3. After 40 minutes drain the bulgar wheat and squeeze out the excess moisture
4. In a bowl mix the bulgar wheat with the semolina, flour and salt. At
this point you will think something has gone wrong as it seems
impossible that the crumbly mixture will come together to form a dough.
Do not fear. It will.
5. Knead the dough for a few minutes until well combined. As an aside, the
dough will crumble if not kept moist so keep a bowl of water
handy to dip your fingers in as you make the kubbeh shells.
6. Take a golf ball sized piece of the dough and roll it into a ball.
Placing your thumb in the centre of the ball squeeze the sides out so
as to make a cup-shaped receptacle for the filling. If the dough starts to crack or split
dip your hands into water to moisten it. Question: how thin
should your kubbeh walls be? Answer: as thin as possible!
7. Now pinch the
sides together encasing the filling, don't worry if there's a bit of
leakage, just take a little more dough and patch it up. Then roll the
kubbeh between your hands until they are a ball
once more. And repeat until either you have no dough left.
8. At this point you should have a mountain of kubbeh piled up, depending
on the size of your pan you could either put them all into the soup or
do as I did and freeze some of them for use at a later stage.
9. Drop the kubbeh gently into the soup and simmer for another 30 minutes.
10. Eat!
I do have a fondness for Central Asian food, despite the fact that the majority of it involves sheep in some form or another. Laghman is no different. A ubiquitous noodle soup found all over Central Asia, it is said to have its origins in China (where the noodles are known as lamian). As with the other Uzbek recipes I have posted here, I have to apologise for the lack of authenticity, but the exclusion of any meat or meat derived items pretty much makes it a fraud. Most of the Uzbek recipes I have read for laghman usually have lamb as the basis for the broth, with carrots, potatoes (maybe aubergine) and lots of fresh herbs adding some colour. I was lacking a little in the vegetable department (the fridge contained a carrot and a few leftover baby sweetcorn of dubious age), so to bulk out the soup I added a can of chick peas. The resulting broth turned out to be quite delicious. A word about the noodles, I decided to make them from scratch as it's something that I have never done, though if you don't have the time or the inclination then you could cook some pasta or egg noodles. With regards to timing, I made the soup in the morning and made the noodles in the afternoon, so I didn't have to worry about juggling pans. If you are more organised then make up the noodle dough while you're waiting for the carrots to cook.
Ingredients
1 large onion finely sliced
2 cloves of garlic chopped finely
1 large carrot cut into matchsticks
5 baby sweetcorn sliced
500ml vegetable stock
400g can of chick peas
1 medium red chilli sliced
Olive oil
1 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp coriander seeds
2 tsp ground cumin
1 pinch sumac (optional)
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
1 bunch coriander
For the dough:
250g white self raising flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 egg
150ml warm water
1. Fry the onions and garlic in olive oil until softened. Add the sliced chilli and carrots and cover with a lid. Cook on a low heat for 10 minutes
2. While the vegetables are cooking, toast the cumin and coriander seeds in a dry pan and then grind in a pestle and mortar
3. When the carrots are softened, stir in the spices (additional ground cumin, sumac and smoked paprika), chick peas and stock. Simmer for 30 minutes
4. Once cooked, add some finely chopped coriander. Leave to one side. I have an aversion to eating scalding hot food, so personally I think the soup tastes much nicer after it's been sitting for an hour or so. Unless of course you live in the Arctic circle where it may get a bit chilly...
For the noodles
1. Put the flour into a large bowl and stir in the salt
2. Add the egg
3. Now slowly stir in the hot water. The recipe I read did specifically mention to use hot water (I used the same dough that I use to make manti), now you may think that is going to scramble the eggs, but I didn't find that to be the case. If you want to be more careful though, use tepid water
4. The dough should be very elastic, wrap it in cling film and leave in the fridge for around 30 minutes to rest
5. Once rested take out the dough and knead on a floured surface. If the dough is too sticky then just knead in some more flour, it's very forgiving!
6. Roll out as flat as you can, if you've got a pasta maker then this should be a doddle, I don't. You want the dough to be as thin as possible, practically speaking that's probably around 2mm. Cut into strips approximately 2cm wide and then hang to dry for 20 minutes. See below for my improvised noodle dryer.
7. Fill a large pan with water (and a good pinch of salt) and bring to the boil. Cook the noodles for around 5 minutes, or until al dente. Drain and put into a large soup bowl
8. Pour the broth on top. You can eat it as is, or with a dollop of soured cream on the top. For that extra Eastern European kick I stirred in some chopped dill and beetroot.
