Tirshi (Spicy North African pumpkin dip)

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...

Makrouth (North African date and semolina cookies)

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.

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.

Sikil Pak (Mayan pumpkin seed and roasted tomato dip)

I was looking for something a bit different to make today, and something relatively easy as I'd left it rather late in the evening to think about food. 
I'm planning on heading to Mexico later on in the year, last year's experience has whetted my appetite for more, so for that reason I've been pouring over guide books and mentally planning routes. This time I'd like to start in the south of the country, Maya territory. While I love Mexican food (no really? You'd have never guessed huh?) I'm not that familiar with traditional dishes of the south, and whilst perusing books the name of a dish caught my eye - sikil pak (or x'ikil pak / sikli paak) a Yucatecan dip of Mayan origin. Based mainly on pumpkin seeds (pepitas) with the addition of tomatoes or tomatillos depending on the recipe, it sounded intriguing and delicious. I love sauces made from nuts or seeds, so a dip made from them seemed like a natural progression. Try it, it could end up a regular on the menu! 

Ingredients
200g hulled pumpkin seeds
2 large tomatoes
1/2 red onion
1 garlic clove (unpeeled)
Fresh coriander
Water
Salt


1. Toast the pumpkin seeds, the traditional way is in a comal (a smooth flat cast iron pan) or you could use a dry frying pan. I spread them on a baking tray and put them in a hot oven (I was roasting an aubergine at the time and it seemed a good use of the heat) and that worked fine. The seeds start off flat, but puff up when heated. Keep a close eye on them so they don't burn. Once toasted leave to one side to cool.
2. Put the tomatoes, garlic and half an onion in a dry frying pan and toast. Don't worry about the black patches that appear, that is pure flavour! You may want to keep an eye on the garlic though as it can turn bitter quite quickly.

3. Place the toasted pumpkin seeds in a blender and puree until you get a fine sand-like consistency.
4. To this add the tomatoes, onion and garlic and blend.
5. The mixture should have the consistency of hummous, so add a little water if it's too thick (I don't give measurements, it depends on how juicy your tomatoes are)
6. Taste and add salt as desired.
7. Eat! Muy delicioso with tortilla chips (I had some fresh (but rapidly becoming less fresh as the week goes on...) blue corn tortillas in the cupboard so made some chips out of them

Rose and Cardamom Horchata

It's been a gloriously sunny weekend and yesterday I visited a chilli festival. Amongst the numerous (and delicious) food stalls there was a couple selling aguas frescas (literally fresh waters), those beautifully refreshing drinks found throughout Mexico, Central America and parts of the Carribean. Whilst aguas frescas can be made of just about anything, the three most popular flavours in Mexico are probably tamarindo (made from tamarind juice), agua de Jamaica (made from hibiscus flowers) and agua de horchata which is made from rice milk spiced with cinnamon. Perfect for a hot day.

The agua frescas remind me a lot of the Middle Eastern sherbets (or sharbats), similarly refreshing drinks, made of fruits, flowers and spices, and in particular the agua de tamarindo brought to mind a similar drink I've had at Lebanese restaurants, where the sour sweet tamarind is combined with dates and rose water. 

And that got me thinking... horchata is typically Mexican, but what if it was given an Eastern twist? Or perhaps conversely, what if a Middle Eastern sherbet was given a Mexican accent? Hmm... The end result was a food marriage made in heaven. Simple to make and delightfully refreshing to drink!

Ingredients
1 litre rice milk
2-3 tablespoons rose water
1 cardamom pod 
2 tsp pomegranate syrup (optional but tasty)
2 tablespoons pistachios

1. Pour the rice milk into a large jug. Traditionally for horchata the rice milk is made by grinding rice in a blender with the spices, adding water and leaving to soak before straining. Shop bought rice milk seemed like a much easier option to me!
2. Take the seeds from the cardomom pod and finely crush. Add them to the milk and stir in.
3. Add the rose water - as an aside for this recipe you need proper rose water, not rose essence that is commonly found in the baking aisle of supermarkets and contains propylene glycol and alcohol as additional ingredients. It may be okay for cakes (personally it sounds totally vile to me...), but not for anything that requires rose water (i.e. Turkish delight). I say 2-3 tablespoons, you can add more or less depending on your personal taste. Rose is one of those flavours that can rapidly go from "Yum... this is gorgeous" to "Yech... it tastes like I'm eating perfume!" in a few drops. 
4. Now add the pomegranate syrup, this is optional. I had some in the house and thought it would be a nice addition.
5. Chill in the fridge for an hour or so. 
6. Serve over lots of ice with chopped pistachios sprinkled on top.

Lahmajun with Caramelised Red Onions and Olives

The Italians do not have a monopoly on pizza. I would imagine that any country that has got as far as baking bread will have some recipe that involves topping the aforementioned bread with something delicious - and Middle Eastern cuisine is no different. 

Lahmajun (or lahmacun, lehmajun, lahmajo) gets its name from the Arabic lahm bi'ajin (meat with dough) and consists of a bread base topped with spicy lamb, probably most commonly seen in Turkish restaurant as lahmacun. My version replaces the lamb with caramelised red onions and chopped black olives, a substitution that I think works really well. If you're feeling lazy the topping would be just as nice on some store bought pitta or flatbread.

Ingredients
500 g flour
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tsp sugar
1.5 tsp salt
1 tsp yeast
320 ml warm water
  



For the topping:
1 large red onion
100 g black olives
1 handful fresh coriander
2 tsp cumin seeds
1 tsp black cumin
1 tsp brown mustard seeds (optional but tasty)
1 tsp ajwain seeds (optional but tasty)

1. Mix the flour, salt, sugar and yeast in a bowl and stir in the olive oil. Add the water slowly and mix until it forms a dough
2. Knead the dough for 10-15 minutes until smooth and elastic. Place it in a large bowl, rub a little olive oil over the top, cover with plastic wrap and leave for at least an hour to rise
3. To make the topping add the finely sliced red onion and cumin (and other spices if you're using) to olive oil, and cook on a low heat for around 30 minutes until caramelised
4. Finely chop the black olives and coriander (you can do it by hand or use a food processor, you don't want it too fine though) and stir them into the onions
5. Preheat the oven to 250 C, and while you're waiting for it to heat up, knock back the dough and knead for a second time
6. Divide the dough into 6 pieces (more or less depending on what size you want the finished lahmajun to be) and roll out into discs
7. Add a spoonful or two of the onion and olive mixture to the discs and spread out
8. Cook for around 10-15 minutes - the timing will depend upon the size of the lahmajun and your oven. I'd check them after 10 minutes...
9. Eat!

Mujadarra (Middle Eastern style rice and lentils)

Every culture has its comfort food. That 'go to' recipe for when you're feeling down, homesick, or just in need of something delicious to feed the soul. Middle Eastern cuisine is no different, and in response to that deep seated need, I offer up mujadarra (also by way of transliteration known as moujadara, mejadra, mudardara, megadarra and numerous other spellings)

Found all over the Middle East, mujadarra is the epitome of comfort food, assuming you like rice (or burghal), lentils and fried onions - and who doesn't love fried onions? There are some slight national variations with regards to the ingredients, some recipes call for green lentils, others brown, in Lebanon burghal wheat is often substituted for the rice, and in Egypt they may add some pasta and tomatoes to the mix, but all variations involve topping the delicious mixture with onions fried until caramelised.

My recipe below is a bit of a cheats version, my local supermarket had no dried brown or green lentils, and while red lentils are delicious cooked with rice, for mujadarra you need something that's going to hold together. They did however have canned puy lentils, so a puy lentil mujadara it was to be.

The rice and lentils can be cooked together pilaf style or separately. I usually go for the latter method as I think it gives a better taste and texture. As an aside, if I was using dried lentils then I'd add the spices to the lentil mixture when they were almost cooked.

Ingredients
400g long grain white rice
400g brown or green lentils
Water for cooking
2 tsp ground cumin
2 tsp cumin seeds
2 tsp smoked paprika
Salt to taste
1 large onion
Olive oil
1. Finely slice the onion and fry until golden brown and caramelised. I added a little pomegranate molasses to speed up the caramelisation process and add some extra sweetness
2. While the onion is frying, cook the rice according to your preferred method (boiling or absorption) and leave to one side. I add the cumin seeds to the rice whilst its cooking (and also 2 sliced cloves of garlic, not neccesarily traditional but tasty)
3. Cook the lentils until al dente and drain (or drain the can, reserving a little of the water to heat the lentils up in)
4. In a large bowl mix the rice and lentils together, the final proportions are up to indiviidual preference. I go for a 50:50 mix of rice to lentils
5. Stir in spices and season to taste
6. Eat! Delicious with a spoonful of yoghurt or sour cream and served with pickled cucumbers and tomatoes.

Badrijani Nigvzit (Georgian style aubergines with walnut stuffing)

It was a lovely day today, one of those rare days of summer that we hardly ever get nowadays in the UK. To celebrate I wanted to cook something light and summery and what better than badrijani nigvzit - Georgian style fried aubergines filled with a spicy walnut stuffing.

As I mentioned in a previous post, Georgian food is probably (well, at least in my opinion) the most unique cuisine in the world. Whereas with other national cuisines you can often detect influences from neighbouring countries, or possibly echoes from past invasions, the countries of the Caucasus, and in particular Georgia and its breakaway regions seem to have managed to hang onto their traditions. While Russian foods have made an appearance (borscht is ubiquitous all over the former Soviet states) traditional dishes have remained true to their origins retaining their unique flavouring that set it apart from anything else I have tasted. I have to say, in the UK Georgian food is woefully neglected and somewhat unknown. With the exception of a few restaurants in London and the south of the country, if you want to taste it you're either having to get the next flight out to Tbilisi (though not direct, alas) or make it yourself.

Badrijani nigvzit translates as aubergine and walnuts, and that's basically what it is. If one ingredient summed up Georgian food it is the walnut. Used both in sweet and savory dishes, it crops up again and again. If you're not a big fan of walnuts, keep reading - this dish may be the one to convert you! Simple to make, and the fragrant walnut stuffing complements the aubergine as though they were born to be together. I've seen a few different recipes for this dish, this is probably the most uncomplicated. Other than frying or grilling the aubergine no cooking is required.

Ingredients
2 large aubergines
200 g walnuts
3 garlic cloves (crushed)
2 tsp khmeli suneli
1 bunch of coriander
1 tbs pomegranate molasses
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
Salt (for the aubergines)

1. Slice the aubergine lengthways into thin slices (~ 1 cm). Lay the slices on a baking tray and sprinkle with salt. Salt you say? Isn't that something that cooks used to say eons ago when they were under the impressions that aubergines were evil bitter little creatures that had to be salted into submission? Yes, you would be correct, other than some teeny tiny ones I bought in an Asian grocers I have never had a bitter aubergine. The reason for the salt in this recipe is to draw out the excessive water. You're going to fry the slices and you want them to be as dry as possible. You'll notice that after 5 minutes the aubergines start to 'sweat', leave them for around 30 minutes and then pat them dry.
2. Fry the slices in olive oil until golden brown, and then put to one side to cool.
3. Grind the walnuts until they have the texture of sand (some lumps are okay). I used a pestle and mortar for this as I didn't think my hand held blender was up to the job of dealing with whole nuts
4. To the nut mixture add the garlic, spices, pomegranate molasses, balsamic vinegar and coriander leaves. If you don't have khmeli suneli add ground fenugreek and coriander seeds. Blend until as smooth as possible. You want the consistency to be a thick paste, but if it's too thick add a little olive oil to loosen it up. It should look something like this

5. Lay the slices of aubergine on a plate and add a tablespoon of the stuffing mixture, then spread it out.
6. Roll the aubergine slices from the narrow end to the base and secure with a cocktail stick. Repeat.
7. You could serve immediately, but I think they taste even better if the flavours are allowed to mingle for an hour or so. Eat at room temperature. Be amazed.
 

Sopa Tarasca

Mexico is a country that I had always wanted to visit, and last year I managed to take my first long overdue trip. I'd timed it to coincide with the Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) celebrations, a holiday with origins in a Precolumbian festival, that is now held on November 1st-2nd. 
At this time its traditional for people to visit cemeteries and decorate the graves of their loved ones.

These celebrations are held throughout Mexico, but the villages around Lake Patzcuaro in Michoacan state have one of the best known Dia de los Muertos celebrations in Mexico. Patzcuaro was the capital of the Precolumbian Tarascan state,that covered the georgraphical area of the present day state of Michoacan. The people of the Tarascan empire were mostly Purepecha, a people that still occupy the region today, and a lot of the food typical to the state of Michoacan owes its origins to the Tarascans.
 
Sopa Tarasca is said to be the original basis for tortilla soup, it is typically made with a chicken or pork stock, so I've substituted with vegetable. It's worth hunting down the dried ancho chillies as they give the soup a lovely rich smokey flavour.

Ingredients

500 ml vegetable stock

500 ml passata
1 large red onion, peeled and finely diced
2 cloves of garlic (crushed)
1 tsp oregano
1 tsp mixed herbs
1 tablespoon smoked paprika
100 g grated cheese (optional)
4 tablespoons sour cream
1 large dried ancho chilli
1 small dried chipotle chilli
2 fresh corn tortillas (if not available, could use tortilla chips)

1. Soak the dried chillies in freshly boiled water for at least 30 minutes, deseed them, tear the ancho chilli in half and keep half to one side (it will be used as a garnish) puree the soaked chillies with a little water
2. Cut the tortillas into strips approximately 1cm wide by 4cm long, fry in vegetable oil until crisp. Drain and keep to one side
3. Fry onions and garlic in olive oil until soft
4. Add vegetable stock, passata, herbs and chilli puree and bring to a boil then simmer for 30 minutes
5. Ladle the soup into serving bowls
6. Sprinkle the fried tortilla strips on the top of each bowl along with a spoonful of sour cream, and a piece of the reserved ancho chilli

Nvig (Armenian style spinach and chickpeas)

Continuing with the Armenian theme, I decided to cook up a batch of nvig (or nevik, neeveeg depending on your transliteration), a traditional meat free dish eaten in Armenia during Lent (or all year round for veggies like me!), it's another quick and easy dish that requires very little in the way of preparation. The only requirement is a big enough pan to hold the masses of spinach before it wilts into nothingness.

Ingredients
250 g spinach
1 can of chickpeas
1 small onion (chopped)
2 garlic cloves (chopped)
Olive oil
150 ml water
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp Aleppo pepper 
1/2 tsp sumac
2 sprigs tarragon (chopped - optional)
1 bunch dill (chopped - optional)

1. Fry the onion and garlic until softened
2. Add the spinach and water, you can either add the leaves whole, or chopped. Put the lid on the pan and leave for 5 minutes or so (until the spinach has wilted)
3. Stir in the spices and chickpeas
4. Cover and simmer for 30 minutes
5. Best served at room temperature with plenty of crusty bread (ideally Armenian) or pitta

As an aside, this was the view from my room. Can you imagine waking up to Mount Ararat every morning?

Fasolia: Green beans and tomatoes

I've just returned from Armenia, so it only stands to reason that I start to post some Armenian recipes, as it's a country I have woefully neglected so far in this little blog. Unless you're familiar with it, the first question would probably be: So what is Armenian food like? Well, Armenian food shares many similarities with its neighbours (Georgia, Iran, Azerbaijan and Turkey) utilising fresh ingredients, nuts, fruits and herbs extensively, though traditionally not too much in the way of spices. Also, as a result of the Armenian diaspora it has also picked up influences from the lands the Armenians lived in such as Russia, Iran, Syria, Egypt, Greece, Romania and Lebanon. So... vaguely Middle Eastern with the occasional Slavic or Mediterranean touch. Mmm...

My first offering is fasolia, a green bean and tomato dish, a simple recipe with a few ingredients. It contains green beans, onions, oil and tomatoes (fresh or tinned), the onions are fried, the beans and tomatoes added, and the whole lot cooked down into a delicious stew. Simple eh? Well, that's the basic recipe, however there are numerous variations with regards to the additional flavourings or spices. My uncle used to make up batches of fasolia and bring them over, he would add cumin, chopped celery and some green olives to the mixture (Greek influence), a woman I was speaking to on the plane home (and swopping recipes with) just added black pepper. I've gone for olives, plus a good helping of fresh coriander.  

Ingredients
200g green beans
400g can chopped tomatoes 
1 onion (finely chopped)
2 garlic cloves (crushed)
2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp allspice
1 tsp oregano
Salt and pepper to taste

Optional:
1 handful coriander (chopped)
1 handful green olives (chopped)

1. Fry the onion and garlic in olive oil until softened
2. Chop the beans into 5cm pieces (roughly) and add to the onions. Stir and cover the pan, and cook for 5 minutes 
3. Add the tomatoes (and olives and coriander if using) and simmer until the beans are tender - 30 minutes or so
4. Serve either warm, room temperature or cold as prefered.