Marak kubbeh adom (Vegetarian red kubbeh soup)

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!

Vegetarian laghman (Uzbek noodle soup)

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.

Vegetarian pozole rojo

This is a recipe I've had knocking around for a while, but never got around to uploading so excuse the lateness. After visiting Mexico last year I kicked myself that I hadn't got around to tasting pozole, a Pre-Columbian soup made from hominy maize. Pozole nowadays (as with a large proportion of Mexican food) usually contains pork, however on occasion you can find vegetarian versions.
A word about the hominy maize used for pozole, it's maize that has been nixtamalised, which involves treating it with an alkaline (usually calcium hydroxide), this helps to break down the components and allows the corn to be made into a dough. The calcium hydroxide also reacts with the corn so that niacin (an essential B vitamin) can be digested. Okay, enough with the science. How does it taste? In itself not of a great deal, but slow cooked with delicious ingredients and it becomes a hearty soup ideally suited to cold winter nights. I used the dry hominy maize, however if you can get the canned variety then that would save an awful lot of cooking time. This is not a recipe to make when you're in a hurry!
There are two main types of pozole commonly made, red (rojo) or green (verde) the name coming from the colour of the sauce, the recipe below is for pozole rojo, and its deep dark red owes its colour to the use of ancho chiles. The soup is served with a selection of toppings, allowing the eatee to customise it to their liking. Excuse the rather poor photograph, I was too hungry to make the food look pretty!

Ingredients
1l of vegetable stock
250 g dried hominy (soaked overnight) 
1 white onion cut in quarts
2 garlic cloves
1 large onion chopped finely
4 Ancho chiles
Olive oil
1 tbs smoked paprika
2 tbp cumin
1 tbs oregano (Mexican if you can get it)
1 tsp allspice
Salt to taste

Toppings
1 small red onion (sliced)
1 handful of radishes (sliced)
1 red chilli finely sliced
1 handful of pickled jalapenos
1 bunch fresh coriander chopped
1 avocado diced
Black olives chopped (optional, not authentic but nice)

1. Soak the pozole maize overnight (if using dried maize)
2. Toast the ancho chiles in a dry frying pan for a minute or so, and then soak in around 100 ml of boiling water (just cover with water) for 15 minutes
3. Once softened, take out the seeds and puree with the soaking liquid until smooth. Leave to one side
4. Fry the onions and garlic in olive oil until soft and stir in the herbs and spices
5. Now stir in the soaked and drained pozole and add the vegetable stock
6. Stir in the ancho chile puree
7. Simmer for at least 4 hours, the time it takes for the maize to cook will vary. I ended up simmering it for almost 6 hours. The maize should be tender, but it retains a little bite to it
8. Serve with bowls of the different topping so people can add them for themselves

Tamale Pie

Winter is coming… 
Though I have to say it feels as though it has already arrived here. Returning home from the heat of Georgia (that's the Caucasus Georgia and not the Southern State) I felt in desperate need of something spicy and warming, and after rummaging through semi-bare cupboards for inspiration I came up with a can of pinto beans, a can of kidney beans, creamed sweetcorn and quarter of a kilo of masa harina in addition to an elderly red sweet pepper that needed to be used up ASAP.
Sounds like everything I need for tamale pie!
As a disclaimer, I have to say I have never eaten tamale pie, nor seen it with my bare eyes. I do have however considerable experience in eating tamales and a liking for pies. A quick perusal of the internet threw up lots of recipes all calling for shop bought cornbread mix, which I neither have nor could probably find in my local supermarket, so I decided to stay true to the name and make tamale masa for the topping.

The pie filling itself was a pretty basic vegetable and bean chilli. I haven't included the recipe here as it was a 'throw it all in the pan until it's done' sort of meal. For bulk and extra carbohydrate (It's winter…) I added the remnants of a pack of Israeli couscous (bigger than your average couscous) and a handful of bulgar wheat. Extra beans or lentils probably would have been the more sensible, however as I said, the cupboards were bare.

For the masa
250g masa harina
100g margarine
500ml stock
2 tsp cumin
1 tsp salt (can omit depending on the saltiness of the stock)

 

1. Put the masa harina and spices in a large bowl
2. Melt the margarine
3. Stir into the dry ingredients, it should look like damp sand
4. Now slowly add the stock, the mixture may not need the full 500ml, the texture you're after is smooth peanut butter on a warm summer's day. Feel free to whisk your masa thoroughly if you have the energy…
5. Spoon the vegetable chilli into an ovenproof dish, add some grated cheese at this stage if you want
6. Put the masa on top, to ensure a good coverage I spooned it on and then smoothed it into an even layer using a sheet of cling film
7. Bake in an oven preheated to 220C for 30-40 minutes, the top should be golden brown and sound hollow when you tap it
8. Eat. It may not be haute cuisine or fine dining but it's just what is needed on a bloody cold night. And because one can never have enough carbs (Atkins diet? Nah…) I added some rice and frijoles refritos just to up the stodge level

I can't believe it's not milk... Umm...

While not a vegan, I do find the whole concept of drinking milk to be a bit vile. I’m lactose intolerant so maybe I should explore alternatives, but unless I overdo things I am usually okay. However while I am perfectly happy to use soya, rice or oat milk etc on cereal, I have yet to find anything that has the same mouthfeel in coffee as moo juice.

I decided to perform my own highly unscientific trial of alternatives available and how they fair in my beverage of choice. As a disclaimer all of the products mentioned below taste perfectly okay straight out of the container, my main criteria for voting is purely based on how they perform in coffee and whether the end result is to my own personal liking.

Here I present my preliminary findings of this ongoing taste test...

Koko dairy free coconut based milk alternative One of the problems I've had in the past with using soya milk in coffee is that once diluted in a hot drink it goes a bit watery. As coconut is so high in fat I thought I'd be onto a winner with this one. However delicious as it may be, it became thin and wishy washy on addition to my coffee, so nope.

Alpro soya my usual soya milk for other purposes, tastes nice and creamy. While it has that typical soya taste in coffee it does give the drink a satisfying creaminess. However… a bizarre gloopy sediment remained in my cup which increased exponentially as the day went on (I'm lazy okay? It's much easier just topping up than washing out a cup every time). Slightly worrying and a more than a bit nasty. Unfortunately no photographic evidence of the sediment, you'll just have to take my word for it.

Coop organic soya milk I had assumed that all soya milk was the same. However this one seemed to produce far less of the gloopy cheese-like sediment. Main drawbacks were extreme frothing and a tendency to separate on standing, and if you forgot to shake the container before using it the end result was not pretty. So far my favourite and a reasonable facsimile of milk.

Update – on opening a new carton, the separating out problem proved to be a regular occurrence despite vigorous shaking. Coffee became undrinkable. And it takes an awful lot to make me throw out a cup of coffee…

Almond milk Oh sweet Lord this must be what evil tastes like! Now, don't get me wrong, I love almonds, though on tasting the almond milk before adding it to coffee I had an inkling that all would not be well. Pleasant enough, but with a slightly cyanide-y aftertaste. Hmm… Once in coffee and the overwhelming flavour is burned something or other (charcoal briquettes maybe?) With added cyanide. Plus it separates out into a rather alarming crazy paving effect on the top of the cup. Not pleasant. 

Oat Milk  I was hoping for great things with this one, if you've ever soaked oats in water and poured the liquid in your bath then you'll know that the resulting emulsion does indeed look milky. But does it taste milky? And what happens if you pour it in a nice mug of hot coffee?

Well… the initial appearance looked promising, a nice milky coffee look, however in the time it took to walk from the kitchen to my office (~1 minute) it had started to separate out giving that "oops the milk’s gone off" look. On standing, more unusual happenings took place, the mixture appeared to move, forming random shapes and pictures on the top of the cup. Quite hypnotic actually...

As a tree turned into a whale, a colleague pointed out that there could be potential fortune telling opportunities in it. Fortune telling aside, what did it taste of? Vileness. Alas another one for the 'no way Jose' pile.

Rice Milk Rice milk is a staple in my cupboards as it's ideal to have handy when the urge to whip up a batch of horchada beckons. Pouring it out, the almost translucent effect was not promising, it barely diluted the colour of my coffee and despite vigorous shaking there was a thin layer of clear liquid floating on top of my cup and a slight oil slick-like sheen.

End result in coffee? Hmm… scary. The texture is watery and very unpleasant, the actual taste is okay without the bitter aftertaste of soya, but I'm not sure it's something I could get used to, plus it’s a bit too close to milk of magnesia for comfort. On the plus side, no gloopy weirdness or separating out…

Hazelnut milk A curious one. Pouring into a glass its beige colour is a little disconcerting, and it was pointed out that this is sold as a ‘Hazelnut drink’ rather than milk, so how would it behave in coffee? Drinking the milk by itself I noted a strong hazelnut flavour and a sweet taste, not unpleasant. In coffee I have to say the physical appearance was very convincing...

No separation, crazy paving effect or oil slick… And the taste? Oh wow! Creamy beautiful hazelnut coffee, the milk effect was very convincing and there was no unpleasant residue at the bottom of my mug. Only drawback I can think of is that it feels more like a ‘special occasion’ luxury drink rather than an everyday milk substitute. I did check the calorie content to see how it compares with semi skimmed moo juice, and surprisingly it has less calories and fat per 100mls. I'm not sure if it would take over from milk, as I kind of like coffee flavoured coffee, but I have to say I was impressed.

So... results? These preliminary findings still have soya out ahead, purely for the texture you get in a hot drink. For the next round of voting I'll have to compare the various supermarket brands... Stay tuned!

Iman Bayildi (Stuffed Aubergine)

Iman bayildi is probably one of the quintessential Turkish recipes that most people with even a passing interest in Middle Eastern food are likely to have come across. 
While it is a classic, there are numerous versions of how to cook it 'properly'. Some recipes call for the raw aubergine to be hollowed out and stuffed, others stuff after cooking. I've read recipes that involve frying, others braising and some where the aubergine is practically deep fried. All have their place. The only absolute certainty is that it must be served at room temperature. Straight from the fridge and you can’t taste a thing, and (heaven forbid) straight from the oven and it’s just plain wrong on all levels.

This is my recipe, tried and tested for decades (okay, a couple of decades I'm not *that* old) you could, as a friend did years ago when I gave her the recipe, adapt it for a weight-loss diet and leave out the olive oil (yikes!) it's still tasty, but really I'd rather cut back elsewhere than skimp on the olive oil… The amounts given here are enough for one large-ish aubergine, which could feed one very hungry person, or two with an accompaniment. 

 Ingredients

1 large aubergine
1 large red onion
3 cloves of garlic
Olive oil
1 tsp allspice
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp smoked paprika
3 tomatoes
Tomato paste
Pine nuts 
Salt to taste
Chopped parsley to decorate

1. Prick the aubergine a few times with a knife and put it in 250 C oven. Roast for approximately 30 minutes until done. How to tell? Give it a poke! You don't want it collapsing in on itself, but the sides will start to wrinkle slightly
2. Meanwhile, while the aubergine is roasting, finely slice the onions, crush the garlic and fry in olive oil (I will leave the amount to your discretion. Remember, the original dish made an Iman faint so don't worry about being too generous) until soft and almost caramelised
3. Stir in the spices and cook for a minute or so, taking care that the mixture doesn't burn
4. Cut the tomatoes into quarters and add to the pan, cook down on a low heat until the tomatoes have all but disintegrated
5. Take the aubergine out of the oven and place on an oven proof dish, you want something with slightly deep sides. Make a cut along the middle, and gently part with a couple of forks. Mash down the insides taking care not to tear the skin

6. Add a little salt and olive oil to season the flesh
7. Now spoon in the tomato and onion mixture, packing it in as tightly as possible, trying to avoid any overflow, and sprinkle with pine nuts
8. Put it back in the oven and cook for 10-15 minutes
9. Take out and allow to cool. Squeeze a little lemon over the top and pour a little olive oil over it. Sprinkle with chopped parsley

 

Agua de Sandia (Mexican watermelon drink)

I was hoping for another glorious weekend, but after sitting inside all week at work looking longingly out the window and tiring of hearing endless news stories about the 'heatwave' whilst viewing it secondhand, it appears to have ended. At least here anyway, and while no means cold, the sun is cosseted in a thick blanket of clouds save for the occasional few seconds peek at what could be... Ho-hum.

So for that reason my mind started wandering on to means of escape and (almost) guaranteed decent weather. Ah... yes. Mexico and my I-hope-it-happens winter break! I'd bought a watermelon on Friday anticipating a weekend of beautiful weather and balmy days sitting under a tree reading and sipping cool drinks. The Mexican aguas frescas are just made for such a day. I'd mentioned them in a previous post, the most popular flavours being agua de horchata (rice milk and cinnamon), agua de jamaica (hibiscus flower) and agua de tamarindo (tamarind). They can, however be made out of just about any fruit, and agua de sandia, made out of juicy watermelons is, as you can imagine a thirst quenching delight that takes almost seconds to make (plus chilling time). Who care's if there's no sun? The colour of the finished drink will brighten up your day.

Ingredients
1 watermelon
2 limes
Agave syrup (or sugar)
Water

1. Peel the watermelon, cut it into chunks and place in a blender. Some recipes say to deseed it first, but really, do you have time to sit and pick out the seeds? 
2. Blend until smooth
3. Squeeze in the lime juice
4. At this point have a taste, some recipes call for a sugar syrup to be added, but I prefer the natural sweetness of the watermelons. I added a little agave syrup as the watermelon wasn't particularly sweet.
5. Strain into a large jug, and taste again. Dilute with water to your own preference and chill for 30 minutes.
6. Serve over plenty of ice, sit back and drink! Incidentally, I used an ice cube tray I'd previously used to freeze batches of green chilli relish and it gave quite a nice tang. For that reason I think serving the agua de sandia with a sprinkling of dried red chilli flakes would work nicely.