Middle Eastern

Muslims from Persia and Central Asia invaded India from the north and ruled much of the country during the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries. As a culture, they are called “Mogul.” They brought with them a period of relative peace and affluence, unifying the native cultures and cuisines of India with those of the Persian Empire. Adding yogurt to a dish is a Mogul touch, as is sealing food with dough in a clay pot and cooking it directly over the coals of a fire. The following recipe is a typical Mogul-style dish, cooked in your slow cooker instead of over a fire. Add the yogurt at the last minute to avoid curdling. (Note: If you cut the eggplant into cubes, the dish makes an excellent sauce for pasta.) Serve with basmati rice.

I’ve been unable to master Arabic, so I have no idea if there’s a translation for the phrase “snack cake.” My mother, who was half Syrian (and never mastered Arabic either), often made this cake for me when I was a kid. As an adult, I frequently find myself craving a piece for a snack. Or whatever a between-meal nibble is called. When I got the recipe from her, I read it through and noticed there wasn’t any butter in the cake. I figured it was probably a mistake, but when I baked it up, I found that no butter was necessary—the cake simply didn’t need it. It does benefit from a very generous dusting of powdered sugar, which can be a little messy, but part of the fun of Middle Eastern desserts is licking your sugary fingers after you’ve polished off the last bite.

Cold meat, a gentle touch, and wet hands are the secrets to successfully shaping these kebabs. There are a few ingredients that may seem a bit peculiar, but I assure you they’ll make sense once you take a bite. The pistachios add a welcome touch of crunch, and sumac—a tart, slightly astringent spice available at any Middle Eastern market—lends the perfect bright boost of flavor. Serve with rice pilaf, pita bread, and Sriracha Tzatziki (page 23).

Here’s an exceptionally easy, no-cook soup. This evolved from the classic recipe for Middle Eastern cucumber soup, which is made with a base of yogurt. However, I don’t think it tastes right with soy yogurt, so I tinkered with it until it approximated the original flavor, without the yogurt. I enjoy it with barley added, as suggested in the variation below.

The classic Middle Eastern team of chickpeas and tahini (sesame paste) is combined in a tasty, offbeat soup. Serve with fresh whole wheat pita bread. Middle Eastern bulgur salad (tabbouleh) and a steamed green vegetable round this meal out nicely.

This recipe has a Middle Eastern flair and is great as a vegetarian main course or a side dish for a larger meal. The lentils provide all the protein needed for a complete meal. Bulgur is a form of wheat (the wheat berries are steamed, dried, and ground) often used when making veggie burgers or tabbouleh. You can easily prepare this meal without the bulgur; just be sure to omit the water as well.

Believe it or not, eggplants have genders. Look for male eggplants, which have a shallow scar at their base, rather than female eggplants, which have a deeper indentation like a belly button. Male eggplants have fewer seeds and supposedly taste less bitter.

Tempeh is a soy-based product with a nubby texture. Tahini, or sesame paste, is commonly used in the Middle East as a dressing for falafel (fried chickpea patties) and is an ingredient in hummus and other dishes. Tahini separates when stored; be sure to mix it well before using. Both are easily found at natural food stores (look for tempeh in the refrigerated section next to the tofu). I never peel beets for Glorious One-Pot Meals. Instead, I scrub them well with a brush and use a veggie wash to rinse away any residual grime. Then I simply slice them and toss them in the pot. Try golden beets in this recipe for a change from the typical red ones. They’re just as sweet but won’t color your entire meal red.

I learned from Claudia Roden, who brought the secrets of Middle Eastern cooking to this country in the 1960s, how to make this invaluable preserve, which adds zest to so many dishes. I even find that you can use a little of it in place of fresh lemons to perk up a dish.

Not a designation by the church but a given name, Deacon Pattnotte ran the small grocery market on Grand Avenue in Yazoo City. He smoked meats and sold them sliced by the pound, but one of the most popular items in the store was his kibbeh. A Lebanese meatball of sorts made with ground beef or lamb and cracked wheat flavored with spices, kibbeh is quite a popular dish in the Delta. When making these in quantity, as Deacon did, the basic rule is for each pound of meat you need 1 teaspoon spice, 1 cup bulgur wheat, and 1 grated onion.

A departure from classic chicken stew, this one-pot wonder with Middle Eastern flair is a little bit exotic but not off-putting or difficult to make in the slightest. In fact, my kids love it. The sweet apricots and salty olives play nicely off each other and collide under a shower of cilantro to jack up the flavor even more. The recipe should make a little extra for leftovers, which are even better the next day.

Falafel, usually tucked into pita bread with lettuce, tomato, and tahini sauce, is one of the best-known Middle Eastern street foods. At home, falafels make a rustic hot hors d’oeuvre, with a bowl of creamy tahini sauce for dipping. These fry up just right: crunchy on the outside and fluffy in the middle. The baking powder gives the falafels a little lift so they don’t sit in your stomach like belly bombs! All the fresh herbs make for a vibrant flavor and super green color. The chickpeas need to soak for a bit, so plan accordingly. The falafels are amazing with Quick Pickled Vegetables (page 235).

Don’t be scared off by the use of sugar in this highly aromatic one-dish meal. It just heightens the flavors of the spices, onions, and pecans.

The Parsi community of India is of Persian descent. When the Parsis fled Iran in the tenth century, they settled on India’s west coast, where they managed to preserve not only their religious traditions—they are Zoroastrians—but many of their culinary traditions as well. This delicately sweet-and-sour dish of chicken cooked with dried apricots is part of that tradition. I have a Parsi friend who puts in a healthy glug of Madeira toward the end of the cooking. Parsis picked up many customs not only from their Gujarati neighbors but also from their neighbors and masters in nineteenth-century Bombay, the British. This dish is generally served with a mountain of very fine, crisp potato straws—you can just buy a large packet of them—but may also be served with rice.

Not only does this rice look colorful and taste delicious but the turmeric acts like an antiseptic inside the body and the sesame seeds add a good deal of nutrition. You can almost eat this by itself. Add a dal, perhaps an eggplant dish, and a yogurt relish, and you have a fine vegetarian meal. Or serve with kebabs of any sort and a salad for a light, non-vegetarian meal.

These duck breasts are not cooked in a tandoor, and not even in an oven, but they do taste like tandoor-baked poultry, hence their name. I marinate them in the same manner that I would a tandoori chicken, then I quickly pan-fry them so they stay a little rare inside. They take just minutes to cook. As for the skin, which is flabby if not crisped to perfection—well, I just remove it entirely. I like to serve this duck with Sri Lankan Rice with Cilantro and Lemon Grass and Swiss Chard with Ginger and Garlic.

An 8–24-hour marination period is required here. This chicken tastes just as good cold as it does hot, making it perfect for everyday meals, formal dinners, and picnics. (Once cooked, if properly wrapped and refrigerated, the chicken will hold for 5–6 days.)