Fearless Kitchen

Recipe: Stuffed Cabbage

Recipe Source: Holmin, Dalal A. & Maher A. Abas, M. D.  From the Tables of Lebanon.  Book Publishing Company, Summertown, 1997 pp. 86 - 7

Growing up I worshipped my grandmother - my mother's mother.  She was the best cook in the whole world, and the best human being at least as far as I was concerned.  (I've never met anyone who had anything to say to the contrary either, so as far as I'm concerned I was right.)  She was not a fancy cook - far from it, she prided herself on the simplicity and "ordinariness" of her cooking.  Of course nothing ordinary ever came out of her kitchen, but she wasn't the kind of cook to experiment with the exotic or unusual.  She knew what she wanted to make and she knew exactly how to make it happen.  Her house always smelled divine and I used to spend hours upon hours in her kitchen, wrapping myself up in the smells of Paradise.

There was one dish she never liked to make, and it was stuffed cabbage.  She never liked to make it and I was never even really encouraged to eat it.  Not that I can remember anyway.  My mother liked it, though, and every once in a while she would make it to gratify her daughter.  What I remember most about those times was the smell.  The perfumes of Paradise were exchanged for the stink of Hell, and if I go to Hell when I die I am certain that it will smell like cooking cabbage.  That smell turned me off cabbage for decades and until I started this website I would not permit cabbage in my home.  I've been working my way toward the stuff slowly but surely.  When I was entertaining relatives for my daughter's birthday party I decided that maybe I would try to serve them stuffed cabbage.  My mother, at least, would probably like it.

As it turns out, everyone liked it.  Everyone but me, that is.  I've figured out what it is besides the hideous smell that I don't like about cabbage.  It is sweet.  I do not do sweet.  At least now I know, right?  I made a few changes tot he recipe as you might well expect.  I used brown rice instead of white because that's what I keep around.  My husband is allergic to mint so of course that was right out; instead I used dill.  I couldn't get my hands on white onions so yellow were used and I increased the garlic on general principles.  My mother cannot eat cinnamon so that was left out too, and I reduced the amount of olive oil on general principles.  I didn't have tomato puree.  What I did have was my own home-canned tomatoes, which I pureed myself.  If I used a little more than originally called for, well, lycopene is good for you.

Like I said, everyone liked it but me, but it didn't turn out the way I envisioned.  The cabbage rolls did not stay rolled.  They mostly fell apart.  That's why I'm listing this as a "fail" even though it was well received.  I guess appearance counts for less than some writers would have us think!

Stuffed Cabbage (serves 6; approx. $1.99/serving)

1 cup uncooked brown basmati rice

1 large bunch fresh parsley, finely chopped

1 bunch fresh dill, finely chopped

1 bunch scallions, finely chopped

8 cloves garlic, chopped

1/2 cup fresh lemon juice

2 teaspoons kosher salt

1 teaspoon ground allspice

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 cabbage, leaves separated and deveined

8 more cloves garlic, chopped

1 1/2 cups canned whole tomatoes with their juices

Water

Equipment:

• Large deep pot
• Large bowls
• Immersion blender
• Heat resistant plate

1. Rinse the rice and drain.
2. Combine the rice with the herbs, onion, first 8 cloves garlic, spices, lemon juice and olive oil.  Mix well and set aside.
3. The original recipe called for the cabbage leaves to be briefly blanched.  I tried that.  It made me curse and didn't work for the purpose intended.  So I stopped.  It's your call.
4. Spread the cabbage leaves out on a work surface of some sort.  Fill with some of the filling toward the middle-bottom of the leaf.  Fold in the sides and roll up.  Put it in the pot.  Stack in layers.
5. Combine the remaining garlic with the tomatoes in the other large bowl.  Use the immersion blender to puree.
6. Cover the layers of cabbage with the pureed tomatoes.
7. Add water to the pot.  The water should come up 1/2 inch taller than the tallest layer of cabbage.
8. Weight the leaves down with the heat-resistant plate.
9. Cover and bring to a boil over medium heat.
10. Reduce heat to low and simmer 20 minutes.
11. Serve.

Recipe: Baghdadi Yogurt Dip

Recipe Source: al-Baghdadi, Muhammad b. al-Hasan b. Muhammad b. al-Karim.  A Baghdad Cookery Book.  Charles Parry, trans.  Prospect Books, Totnes 2005 p. 88.

I have two copies of A Baghdad Cookery Book.  One is translated by A. J. Arberry.  It came out, I believe, sometime in the 1930s and was later included in a much larger volume entitled Medieval Arab Cookery.  The other was published as its own volume and was cited above.  This was the first book of medieval recipes I ever owned.  It has, unfortunately, been lost somewhere in the recesses of my house for quite some time.  Recently the house decided to cough up the book.  I don't know why.  It was just suddenly on the shelf again.  This happens sometimes, I don't know why.  Anyway, I prefer to work with this translation rather than the other.  I don't feel that I'm qualified to comment on the quality or accuracy of the translations themselves, but the style of English in the Perry translation is much easier to work with.

Anyway, the book made its re-appearance in time for me to start work on our New Year's Eve celebration.  I wasn't necessarily setting out to make a medieval dish for the party, but I happened to be flipping through the book and saw the recipe and decided that it looked good. I like that about a lot of the recipes from the medieval Middle East.  I mean, medieval people had taste buds too, and food for the classes that left recipes didn't need to taste like dust.  But a lot of the medieval Middle Eastern recipes fit right in with modern tastes and preferences.  You can mix them right into a modern dinner or party and no one would ever know the difference.  Try this one at your Super Bowl party.

As is usually the case when I'm trying to re-create a medieval recipe I didn't make a lot of changes.  The original wanted mint.  My husband is allergic to mint so I left it out.  I substituted tarragon.  The two are nothing alike of course, but I really like tarragon and it at least has a similar strength to mint.

Baghdadi Yogurt Dip (serves 16; approx. $0.51/serving)

1 large leek, finely chopped

4 celery stalks, finely chopped, leaves separated

1 small bunch tarragon, finely chopped

1 large tub Greek yogurt

1 cup chopped toasted walnuts

Kosher salt to taste

1/2 teaspoon ground mustard

Equipment:

• Large bowl

1. Combine the leek, celery stalks, celery leaves, tarragon and yogurt in the large bowl.
2. Mix well.
3. Sprinkle the salt, mustard and walnuts over the top.
4. Transfer to a serving vessel and serve.

Recipe: Pickled Quinces

Recipe Source: Malouf, Greg and Lucy.  Artichoke to Za'atar.  University of California Press, Berkeley, 2008 p. 249

I love quinces.  I've had the good fortune for the past couple of years to get a full bushel at a very reasonable price, which has been a lot of fun for me.  The thing is, though, while I love quinces most quince recipes wind up being extremely sweet.  Even if I were not desperate to lose weight I'd have a hard time with that.  My system has never processed sugar well.  I've made a real effort to find savory recipes for quinces so that I can enjoy one of my favorite flavors without the side effects.  The problem is preservation.  It's easy to find recipes that will make sweet preserves, but those won't do in savory recipes.  When I found this recipe - essentially pickled quinces - I decided to give it a try.

I couldn't publish my results until recently for the simple reason that I didn't know how they'd turned out.  They needed to sit in a "dark place" for about four weeks before they were ready.  I'm reasonably certain that this means a pantry or cabinet, not a mental state of existential anguish.  I don't think quinces experience existential anguish.  I could be wrong.  Anyway, I've used these quinces in two other recipes now and if I want to write them up I need to write this one up, so here goes.  I will warn you that my notes from that day are long since lost, a sad consequence of constant entertaining between then and now, so you're dependent on my memory here.  That's okay.  You don't mind so much, do you?  I certainly increased the quantity.  I know I had to use powdered spices instead of whole spices for some of them, and I'm fairly certain that there was more cardamom and less allspice than originally called for.  Ultimately I'm pretty happy with this recipe, and I'm looking forward to enjoying savory quince dishes for the rest of the year.

Pickled Quinces (makes 6 pint-size jars; approx. $1.17/jar)

12 quinces, peeled, cored and cut into 8 pieces each

3 cups cider vinegar

6 cups water

18 tablespoons honey - a milder honey is better here

3 teaspoons black peppercorns

3 teaspoons ground coriander

2 tablespoons ground cardamom

1 teaspoon ground allspice

2 teaspoons whole cloves

3 cinnamon sticks

6 bay leaves

Equipment:

• Home canning equipment, sterilized
• Large bowl
• Large saucepan

1. Prepare your equipment for canning.  Get your jars and your water bath up to 180 degrees.
2. As you prepare your quinces drop them into a bowl of acidulated water so they do not discolor.
3. When you have finished prepping your quinces, put them into the large saucepan.  Cover with the liquids, honey and spices.
4. Bring to a boil.  Stir gently to dissolve the honey, but don't be to vigorous or the quinces will disintegrate.
5. Reduce heat and simmer 45 minutes or until the quinces are tender.  Don't overcook them or they will disintegrate.
6. Carefully put quince pieces into the sterilized jars.  Ladle the poaching liquor over them.
7. Process 25 minutes in a boiling-water canner.
8. Let them cool, then label and store them.
9. Store at least 4 weeks before using.

Recipe: Turkey Meatballs in Quince-Rosewater Syrup

Recipe Source (partial): Mallos, Tess.  The Food of Morocco.  Murdoch Books, Millers Point, 2008 p. 104

So none of my recent recipes have satisfied my meatball craving.  I don't know why that should be, but whatever.  I'll just have to keep playing until I find what I'm looking for, or possibly just enjoy eating more meatballs.  I wanted a meatball dish that I could enjoy during the week.  I also wanted something with quinces.  You may recall that not too long ago I posted a recipe for quinces in a rosewater syrup.  That was in preparation for this recipe.  I figured I might as well combine the two and see what I came up with, and I'm very glad that I did.  You see, the turkey meatballs matched beautifully with the quince sauce, just beautifully.  Neither my husband nor I could get enough.  This dish was great.  It also reheated easily and well with the addition of about half a cup of water.

Turkey Meatballs in Quince-Rosewater Syrup (serves 4; approx. $1.36/serving)

1 pound ground turkey

1 egg

1 cup breadcrumbs

1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom

Kosher salt and black pepper to taste

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 onion, sliced

1 cup water

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 serving (aout 1/2 cup?) Quinces in Rosewater Syrup.  Make sure you get some of that syrup!

Equipment:

• Mixing bowl
• Mini-prep mini food processor
• Large saute pan

1. Combine the turkey, egg, breadcrumbs, cardamom, salt and pepper in the mixing bowl.  Knead well to mix thoroughly.  Form into meatballs the approximate size of walnuts and set aside.
2. Combine the quinces with the onion and lemon juice in the mini-prep.  Puree.
3. Heat the oil in the saute pan.
4. Add the meatballs and brown on all sides.
5. Add the quince puree and the water.  Bring to a boil.
6. Reduce heat and simmer until the meatballs are thoroughly cooked.
7. Eat.  Complain that there are not more.

Recipe: Medieval Fried Meatballs

Recipe Source: Anonymous.  The Treasure of Useful Advice for the Composition of a Varied Table.  Thirteenth century AD, probably Egyptian.  Published by Lilia Zaouali in Medieval Cuisine of the Islamic World, M. B. DeBevoise trans., University of California Press, Berkeley, 2007 p. 87

So, my recent experiment with meatballs in avgolemono did not cure my craving for meatballs.  I don't know why.  Maybe they're just comforting.  Things around here have been kind of insane the past few weeks, maybe I'm subconsciously seeking that kind of familiar comfort.  Maybe they're just good.  There's a reason we find meatball recipes coming from all over the world, after all.  Whatever it is, I made these a while ago for a Sunday dinner and they came out pretty well if I do say so myself.  This is a medieval recipe that comes to us from Egypt - well, probably Egypt.  It's a very simple recipe, calling for seven ingredients.  It's very easy to pull together and very easy to like - assuming that you like cilantro, that is.  You can try it as a cocktail party appetizer, or serve as a main course.

Medieval Fried Meatballs (serves 8; approx. $1.12/serving)

1 pound ground lamb

1 onion, ground

1 tablespoon ground pepper

Pinch kosher salt

2/3 bunch fresh cilantro, finely chopped

1 tablespoon ground coriander

1 egg

6 tablespoons olive oil

Equipment:

• Mixing bowl
• Skillet
• Saucepan

1. Combine the meat, pepper, salt, cilantro, coriander and egg in the mixing bowl.  Knead until thoroughly combined.
2. Use your (clean) hands to roll pieces of meat into balls the approximate size of a walnut.  Set aside.
3. Fill the saucepan about halfway with water and bring to a boil.
4. Add the meatballs.  Work in batches if you have to.  Cook until the meatballs are about half-cooked, three or four minutes.  Drain.
5. Heat the oil in the skillet.
6. Working in batches if necessary, fry the meatballs in the oil until done to your liking.  Drain.
7. Serve.

Recipe: Quinces in Rosewater Syrup

Recipe Source: Mallos, Tess.  The Food of Morocco.  Murdoch Books, Millers Point, 2008 p. 232

It's that time of year again.  I have managed to acquire another bushel of quinces at a very reasonable cost so it is now time to re-boot The Great Quince Project.  This year I've had some specific requests for things so that should take care of some of my bounty, but that's not the point of The Great Quince Project.  The point is to explore all sorts of tasty treats that I can only make at this one time of year, so that's what I'm doing.  The first recipe for the season comes from Morocco.  It's not the recipe I initially intended to be the first recipe of the season.  The recipe I originally intended is a savory(ish) recipe, not a dessert.  It did, however, require one to make this recipe first.  Now, I could have written this up as part of that recipe, but I decided not to.  You see, I decided to make a super-sized batch of this ingredient.  A few of the quinces in my bushel were partially bad - no great surprise considering how many there were and the recent weather - so I decided I would use p all the ones that I had to cut up.

So I was already making this recipe.  The day before I decided to cook we'd hosted one of those big medieval history events I've mentioned.  I did not cook for this event, being the event organizer.  I did however find myself with a lot of the leftovers.  One of the dishes of which there were leftovers was rice pudding.  Now, as rice pudding goes it was a wonderful rice pudding - almondy and creamy.  The thing is, I'm not usually the biggest rice pudding fan in the world.  I was however having guests over for dinner that night, and one of those guests is a rice pudding fiend.  I hadn't any other dessert ideas and was frankly exhausted.  Why not add some quinces in rosewater to the rice pudding?

I made a few small changes to the original recipe, other than increasing the quantity as mentioned above.  I decided to use honey instead of superfine sugar.  I had this jar of really tasty, high-quality honey that I'd bought over the summer.  It was still good but it was threatening to crystalize on me.  Rather than waste it, I decided to use it here.  Besides, I love the flavor of honey.  If I have to have sweet, I want it to taste like honey.  I think the proportion of rosewater I used was higher than called for in the original recipe too; the original said "to taste," and "to taste" with regards to rosewater is quite a lot in my book.  I left the lemon zest in the syrup rather than removing it for storage and service, which I thought worked quite well.

I don't mind telling you that this worked out better than I could have possibly imagined.  Both of my guests had been present at the history event the night before and had partaken of the original rice pudding.  They loved the rice pudding then, but they hardly recognized it when the quince and rosewater syrup was added.  They enjoyed the way it meshed with the almond.  And how much did I like it?  I'd originally intended to send home any uneaten rice pudding with my friends, but I kept a little bit back just for me.

Quinces in Rosewater Syrup (serves 12 when used as described; approx. $0.32/serving)

6 - 8 qunces, washed and quartered

18 fluid ounces honey

Zest of two lemons

4 tablespoons rosewater

Water to cover

Equipment:

• Large saucepan
• Large, fine-mesh strainer
• Bowl
• Covered storage bowl

1. Put the quinces - still with their peels and cores - into the saucepan and add water to cover.
2. Bring to a boil, then cover.  Reduce heat and simmer 40 minutes.
3. Drain through the strainer into a bowl.  Return the liquid to the saucepan.  Reserve the solids.
4. Add the honey and lemon zest to the pan.  Stir until the honey no longer resists the spoon.
5. Return the mixture to a simmer.
6. Pull the skin from the quince pieces, then core and halve each piece.
7. Return the quinces to the saucepan with the rosewater.  Continue to simmer another 30 minutes, this time uncovered.
8. Transfer to the covered storage bowl and chill.
9. Serve over rice pudding.  Yogurt or ice cream would make good choices too.

Recipe: Tharda with Chard (Medieval Beef Stew)

Recipe Source: Anonymous.  An Anonymous Andalusian Cookbook, 13th Century.  Charles Perry, trans.  Find the original recipe here.

Stew isn't pretty.  I'm pretty sure it isn't supposed to be.  It is supposed to be comforting, nourishing, filling, but not really pretty.  Stews are common throughout the medieval period throughout the world, and there's a good reason for that.  Stews make great use of meats that are kind of tough, not really "prime" cuts.  They also enable the cook to "stretch" a little meat a long way, which is important when meat is scarce or expensive or both.  I've seen some pretty fancy stews, and do you know what?  They don't look any different from not-fancy stews.  They look like stew.

Tharid is a dish supposedly invented by a grandfather of a Very Important Person in Islamic history.  At it's heart it is somewhere between a soup and a stew.  I've seen descriptions of tharid that boggle the mind, filled with all sorts of exotic meats and garnished with sausages, and I was frankly very intimidated by the very idea of cooking such a dish.  Then I did a little more research and I realized that what the Caliph in Baghdad ate in 961 AD probably bore about as much resemblance to the favorite dish of the Prophet as Emperor Constantine's dinner did to Christ's daily fare.  I've made tharid that was so simple it had only eight ingredients, and it was so delicious I crave it to this day.  It was a popular style of dish all over the Islamic world with good reason.

This one comes to us from Andalusia.  It's easy to forget that Andalusia, part of Spain (and therefore Western Europe) for centuries now, was for many centuries an important center of Islamic art, culture and learning.  The anonymous Andalusian cookbook we know today comes to us from the thirteenth century AD and it's kind of fun to compare and contrast recipes from the same period in Baghdad.  Sometimes the recipes are very similar.  Sometimes they're wildly different but have the same name.  At any rate, this one was fun and easy to make.  Adding the eggs probably seems a little odd to you.  It seemed odd to me too.  I don't think that this dish would have been nearly as tasty without them, though, so don't leave them out if no one is allergic.

Tharda with Chard (serves 8; approx. $2.01/serving)

5 tablespoons olive oil

2 pounds stew beef, cut into large chunks

1 tablespoon ground cumin

2 teaspoons ground coriander

2 teaspoons ground ginger

1 tablespoon black pepper

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1 red onion, diced

1 bunch cilantro, finely chopped

2 bunches chard, chopped (include the stalks)

5 garlic cloves, chopped

3 eggs

1/4 cup dried rosemary

1 1/2 cups bread crumbs

1 tablespoon black pepper

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

Water

Equipment:

• Large saucepan

1. Heat the oil in the saucepan.
2. Add the meat.  Brown the meat on all sides.
3. Add the cilantro, onion, cumin, coriander, ginger, first tablespoon of pepper and the salt.
4. When the onions are softened add water to almost cover.  Bring to a boil.
5. Add the chard.  Reduce heat to a simmer.
6. Add the eggs to the mixture along with the rosemary and garlic.
7. Stir well and simmer until the meat is very tender.
8. Sprinkle with the breadcrumbs, remaining pepper and cinnamon.

Recipe: Rutabaga Salad

Recipe Source: Jenkins, Sara and Mindy Fox.  Olives & Oranges.  Houghton Mifflin, Boston, 2008 p. 27

If you want to play a slightly funny joke on your dinner guests make this easy salad.

When I was first putting this salad together my husband came into the room.  "What's all that cheese for?" he asked.  I told him it wasn't cheese, it was rutabaga.  He said, "Is 'rutabaga' Farsi for cheese?"  I said, "No, it's a giant (expletive) turnip."  He said, "Oh," sampled some and went on about his day.  The recipe directed that the dish sit out at room temperature and I duly assembled it and sat it out on the table, well out of reach of dogs and cats and marauding small children.  A friend of ours walked in.  He looked at the dish.  He looked at me.  He looked at the dish again.  He looked at me again.  I asked, "Can I help you find something?"  He said, "Shouldn't this cheese be in the fridge?"

Okay, it's not hugely funny, but sometimes I'll take what I can get.

I had a couple of rutabagas from our final farm share shipments sitting in the fridge.  I needed to do something with them.  Unfortunately for me, I was feeling incredibly uninspired and had to resort to my cookbook collection for inspiration.  I found it in this book, which I rarely use.  I'm glad I did, though.  This was incredibly easy to prepare with my food processor's help.  It was delicious and easily assembled ahead of time.

I made a few changes.  I increased the quantity mostly to use up the rutabagas.  I used lemon juice instead of lime because I had a bunch of lemons on hand that needed to stop occupying fridge space.  I increased the harissa because I frankly like the stuff.  I also added some herbs because I had them and because I thought they would round out the dish.

This simple salad was a real hit.  Try it sometime when you've got a lot of people to feed and less time to do it in.

Rutabaga Salad (serves 8; approx. $0.79/serving)

2 rutabaga, peeled and grated

2 tablespoons kosher salt

12 tablespoons lemon juice

5 tablespoons harissa

1 handful fresh thyme leaves

1 handful fresh oregano leaves, chopped

Equipment:

• I used a food processor to grate the rutabagas.  You can use a box grater if you need to  but try not to bleed into the food.
• Small bowl.
• Whisk

1. Combine your grated rutabaga and salt in your serving bowl, which should be roughly the size of Belgium.
2. Set aside a minimum of five minutes.
3. Combine the remaining ingredients in the small bowl and whisk to thoroughly combine.
4. Pour the dressing over the rutabaga and toss to coat.
5. Set aside up to six hours.
6. Serve.

Recipe: Flatbreads with Sumac, Oregano and Feta

Recipe Source: Wright, Cifford A.  Little Foods of the Mediterranean,  Harvard Common Press, Boston, 2003 pp. 310 - 11 and 473

Sunday dinners have some kind of strange requirements.  Since most folks have been exercising heavily (and in the hot sun to boot) carbohydrates and salt are key.  Ideally I'd like to have something ready for folks as soon as they come in from practice, something they can munch on while they try to keep their muscles from cramping horribly.  This recipe served that exact purpose.  It helps that it was also incredibly easy to throw together.  If you want to use store-bought pizza dough it would be even easier, although I've never seen a whole grain pizza dough for sale in a supermarket.

I did make a few changes.  The original called for white pizza dough, which I just didn't want to do.  I omitted the additional olive oil because I frankly didn't feel that I needed the fat here.  Instead of using a prepared seasoning mixture I mixed sumac with thyme and oregano, because I didn't have any za'atar on hand.  I also omitted the sesame seeds to accommodate one person's dietary needs.

These little flatbreads were an instant hit.  Everyone loved them.  My daughter was especially fond of them, although she was absolutely convinced that they were "cookies."  The feta gave them just enough salt to satisfy our active guests while not being too salty for the rest of us.

Flatbreads with Sumac, Oregano and Feta (serves 12; approx. cost per serving not available)

2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast

1 cup warm water (not hot)

1 teaspoon raw sugar

3/4 teaspoons salt

3 1/2 cups whole wheat bread flour

3 tablespoons olive oil

1/8 cup sumac

1/4 cup thyme

1/8 cup oregano

Feta cheese, crumbled

Equipment:

• Stand mixer with the dough hook attachment
• Baking sheets

1. Combine the water, sugar and yeast in the bowl of the stand mixer.  Set aside until frothy.
2. Add the salt, flour and oil.  Knead until blended on the lowest possible setting.
3. Increase the speed slightly - from 1 to 3 out of 11 on my stand mixer - and knead about 4 minutes, or until the dough forms a ball.  Set aside for about an hour, covered.
4. Separate the dough into about 24 - 36 little balls.  Flatten the balls with your hands and lay them out on the cookie sheets.
5. Combine the sumac, thyme and oregano and sprinkle a little of the mixture onto each disc.
6. Sprinkle a little crumbled feta onto each disc.  Press slightly just to make sure it stays where you want it.
7. Cover and set aside for about 30 minutes.
8. Preheat your oven to 450 degrees.
9. Bake about 5 minutes.  Serve hot or at room temperature.

Recipe: Medieval Doughnuts (Aqras Mukarrara)

Recipe Source: al-Baghdadi, Muhammad ibn al-Hasan ibn Muhammad ibn al-Karim al-Katib.  A Baghdad Cookery Book (Kitab al-Tabikh,  A. J. Arberry, trans.  Published in Medieval Arab Cookery, by Maxime Rodinson, A. J. Arberry & Charles Perry.  Prospect Books, Devon, 2006 p. 87

A few weeks ago, after some good-natured ribbing that I just had to interpret as a challenge, I made a Sunday open house dinner that consisted entirely of medieval recipes.  In order to make it even more of a challenge (and to keep me from referring to my favorite cookbook), I decided that all the recipes would be Western European in origin with the exception of the dessert.  (The fact is that I was just really craving something tasty involving nuts and rosewater and I knew I would find it if I looked East enough.)  I found this recipe in my copy of A Baghdad Cookery Book and decided that I just had to have it.

I have a little more trouble following the instructions for this cookbook, since they aren't written nearly as clearly as Annals of the Caliphs' Kitchens.  Where the original recipe said "Take white flour and knead lightly, then leave to rise," I interpreted that to mean that this was a leavened pastry.  I therefore took the same dough recipe as I was using for the whole wheat bread I was making that day and used white flour instead.  Also, I didn't have enough sesame oil on hand to fry all the doughnuts, so I had to substitute a little bit of plain vegetable oil to round out the oil.

This recipe was very painful.  Oil splatters, you see.  It also retains its heat well, especially when combined with melted and caramelized sugar.  I removed a pan from the heat but left a (plastic-handled) spatula to cool with it.  When I grabbed the handle of the spatula it had melted.... into my finger.... which hurt and hurt.  Don't do that.  The worst part is that there were witnesses!  Nothing got into the food itself - I was starting over with a clean pan anyway.  Proper first aid was followed and there was no lasting harm to me, and that spatula had long exceeded its reasonably expected lifespan anyway.

Fortunately the dish was one hundred percent worth it.  Even reheated it was worth it.  Wow.  I just cannot say enough good things about these little treats.  I will warn you, though, that these are Not A Health Food.  While our medieval ancestors, especially the ancestors in the Islamic world, certainly understood the connection between diet and health they were not overly concerned with things like cholesterol or stroke risk or anything like that.  So this is absolutely a treat, to be reserved for a special occasion or very special gathering or maybe once a year.  Just know that it will be worth it when you do.

Aqras Mukarrara (makes enough for about 12 people if they're brave; approx. cost per serving not available)

1 3/4 cup lukewarm water

3 cups white all-purpose flour

1 1/3 cups white bread flour

2 teaspoons salt

2 teaspoons raw sugar

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast

4 cups raw sugar, divided

1/3 pound almonds

1/4 cup rosewater

1 1/2 cups water

Light sesame oil for frying (Note: do NOT use toasted sesame oil here, only the raw kind you can get at Middle Eastern or Indian markets.  The toasted kind you can find in the supermarket is entirely the wrong flavor.)

Equipment:

• Frying pan
• Saucepan
• Food processor
• Slotted spatula
• Stand mixer with dough hook attachment
• Bowls

1. Combine the 2 teaspoons raw sugar with the water and the yeast in a bowl.  Set aside until the yeast becomes markedly foamy.
2. Combine the flours, salt and olive oil in the bowl of your stand mixer.
3. Add the yeast mixture.  Knead on the lowest setting until the ingredients are combined, then increase speed slightly (from 1 to 3 of 11 on mine) and knead until a soft dough is formed.  It should form a ball around the dough hook.
4. Cover the dough and set aside to rise for about an hour or until very puffy.  The length of time this will take depends on the heat of your kitchen.
5. Meanwhile, make the rest of the components.  Start with the syrup: combine 1 1/2 cups water with 1 1/2 cups sugar in the saucepan.
6. Heat over medium heat, stirring constantly until the sugar is completely dissolved.
7. Bring to a boil.  Boil at least 1 minute.
8. Remove from heat.  Wait about thirty seconds and add the rosewater.
9. To make the filling, combine 2 cups raw sugar and 1/3 pound almonds in your food processor.  Process to a fine powder.
10. Add enough of the syrup to make it into a firm paste - you shouldn't need to add more than 1/2 cup but if you do that's okay.
11. Clean out your food processor and grind the remaining raw sugar into a fine powder.
12. When the dough is ready, pull off a small chunk of it, about as much as will fit between your thumb and forefinger if you touch the tips together.
13. Roll the piece of dough into a ball.
14. Break out a little bit of the almond paste from the food processor.  Roll it into a ball and flatten it with your hands.
15. Pat the cake into a flat disc and set aside.  Repeat with the remaining dough.
16. Heat the oil in your frying pan.  You want enough to fry the cakes without burning but not so much that you're deep-frying.
17. Add a few of the dough discs.  The number you add will depend on the size of your frying pan, but do NOT overcrowd your pan.  Not only does that lead to poor results it tends to lead to house fires.  So don't do it.
18. Fry the pieces on both sides for about a minute.
19. Dip each pastry into the syrup, then into the ground sugar, then return it to the pan.
20. Repeat this procedure twice more, setting the discs aside after the third sugaring.  Finish with the remaining discs.
21. Serve immediately.