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.
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
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.
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!
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.
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.
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
