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.
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
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
