Middle Eastern

Kibbet Yatkeen These flavorful patties, which contain no eggs, are denser and more healthful than typical Western pancakes. In Syria, bulgur supplies the body in these patties, but in America some cooks discovered that oats make a suitable substitute. Of course, traditionalists insist on bulgur. Syrians tend to prefer their pumpkin pancakes savory and somewhat spicy, while Sephardim from Turkey and Greece generally like them slightly sweet. These might be served at a Syrian Hanukkah meal alongside bazargan (Syrian bulgur relish), yerba (stuffed grape leaves), spinach salad, and rice with pine nuts.

Cumin lends a unique flavor and aroma to this popular Ramadan soup. Sometimes, for a heartier version, I add Kafta balls just after I purée the lentils and let them cook together. Lemon juice is thought to aid the body in absorbing the iron in the lentils, so I always squeeze some into each serving—it brightens the flavor, too. Shorabat Adas is delicious the next day; just add a little water to the cold lentils, which will be very thick, before reheating it. You can freeze it, too, in a tightly covered rigid container for up to 6 months.

(Khoresh-e fesenjan) Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Najmieh Batmanglij's book A Taste of Persia. Batmanglij also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Batmanglij and Persian cuisine, click here. Traditionally this recipe is made with duck: The affinity between pomegranate and duck goes back to ancient times in Persia. Fourth-century Persian manuals describe the domestication of the male duck, fed on hemp seeds and the butter of olives. The finest meal possible was one of these ducks served in a pomegranate sauce. This recipe recreates that ancient dish.

(Kuku-ye sabzi) Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Najmieh Batmanglij's book A Taste of Persia. Batmanglij also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Batmanglij and Persian cuisine, click here. A kuku is a baked omelet somewhat similar to an Italian frittata or an Arab eggah; it is thick and rather fluffy, and stuffed with herbs, vegetables, or meat. It may be eaten hot or cold — it keeps well in the refrigerator for two or three days — as an appetizer, side dish, or light main dish with yogurt or salad and bread. Kukus are traditionally made on the stovetop, but my oven version is much simpler. A fresh herb kuku such as this one is a traditional New Year's dish in Iran. The green herbs symbolize rebirth, and the eggs, fertility and happiness for the year to come.

Almost every restaurant in Israel features turkey schnitzel on the menu. Most homemakers buy it breaded and frozen and serve it preceded by hummus, tahina, and other salads for a quick main meal. As I went from table to table throughout Israel, I found the dish to be more or less the same, prepared with spice combinations that vary depending on the ethnic background of the cook. Yemenite Jews, for example, add garlic, cumin, turmeric, cardamom, and hawayij. Polish cooks often use matzoh meal. A classic schnitzel includes both butter and oil, which has been changed to just oil in Israel. Even in remote corners of Latin America, restaurants try to woo Israeli travelers by putting up signs in Hebrew saying WE HAVE SCHNITZEL.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Joan Nathan's book The Foods of Israel Today. Nathan also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Nathan and Israeli cuisine, click here. I remember with pleasure the Turkish Spinach burekas we ate every Friday morning when I worked in the Jerusalem municipality. The ritual was as follows: Simontov, the guard at the front door downstairs, would appear carrying a bronze tray with Turkish coffee and the heavenly, flaky pastries filled with spinach or cheese, called filikas in Ladino. It is rare today to have such delicious burekas, in Jerusalem or anywhere else in Israel. Most of the dough is commercially produced puff pastry, much thicker and less flaky than the homemade phyllo used to be. A few places, like Burekas Penzo in Tel Aviv (near Levinsky Street), which has been making the pastries by hand in the Turkish style for more than thirty years, produce a close second to those I remember from my days in Jerusalem. Various Ladino names like bulemas and boyos differentiate fillings and distinguish a Jewish bureka from a Turkish one. If you can find the thick phyllo dough, that works well. Otherwise, try this. My fifteen-year-old makes and sells them for fifty cents a piece. They are great!

Every Israeli has an opinion about falafel, the ultimate Israeli street food, which is most often served stuffed into pita bread.

(Sharbat-e gol-e Mohammadi) Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Najmieh Batmanglij's's book New Food Of Life. Batmanglij also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Batmanglij and Persian cuisine, click here.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Joan Nathan's book The Foods of Israel Today. Nathan also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Nathan and Israeli cuisine, click here. According to the Ten Commandments, "On the seventh day thou shalt rest," which means that no cooking can be done on the Sabbath. This tradition is the reason Israel is truly the center of the world for cholent, an overnight stew. Almost all Jewish families have brought their own unique versions — with Hungarian smoked goose breast, Brazilian black beans, Moroccan rice, Bukharan turkey giblets and raisin-stuffed cucumbers, or Polish barley and meat. A dish that has experienced a rebirth even among secular Israelis in the last few years, cholent is often served as a centerpiece main course for parties, usually blending several traditions in one exciting creation. Eons ago, needing a dish that could be kept warm for the Sabbath, Jewish cooks came up with an overnight stew, the ingredients for which varied depending on where they lived. The stew was tightly sealed, often with a paste-like dough, and cooked before the Sabbath began, then left overnight in the embers to warm until the next day. During World War II, before Israelis had proper ovens, the cholent often was simmered over the small flame of a kerosene stove, the lid covered with two heavy bricks. The word cholent comes from the French chaud, meaning "warm," and lent, meaning "slow." In Israel, it is also called hamim, Hebrew for "warm." Like outdoor grilling, preparing cholent seems to have become the Israeli man's domain. It is served on every Israeli army base on Saturday, even in small military units on their own at lookout posts throughout the country, since the army, which officially observes the dietary laws, must serve a traditional Sabbath meal. This Hebronite hamim recipe was given to me by Amnon Lipkin Shachak, a former Israeli army chief of staff. He combines the Ashkenazic basic beans and barley with Sephardic sausages and the long-cooking eggs in their shells called huevos haminadav to make an innovative Sabbath dish from Hebron, the city from which part of his family hails. According to him, the recipe changes each time he makes it, depending on what he can find in the cupboard. This version requires kishke (a traditional delicacy made of flour and fat stuffed into sausage casing, today obtainable from Jewish specialty stores) and the robust and highly aromatic eastern Mediterranean spice combination of baharat (see Tips, below).

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Joan Nathan's book The Foods of Israel Today. Nathan also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Nathan and Israeli cuisine, click here. Sometimes called Turkish Salad, this typical Israeli salad, served at almost every meal, has many variations. But one thing remains the same: the tomatoes, onions, peppers, and cucumbers must be cut into tiny pieces, a practice of the Ottoman Empire. Two types of cucumber are common in Israel: one, like the Kirby cucumber, goes by the name of melafofon in Hebrew and khiyar in Arabic; the other, called fakus in Arabic, is thinner, longer, and fuzzy, and is eaten without peeling.

Veggie perfection This nutrient-stuffed dish won't leave you hungry. What do you get when you give bell peppers center stage on your plate? A veggie-heavy meal that even a meat fiend will find too tempting to resist. Here we stuff antioxidant-rich bell peppers with couscous (a tiny, round pasta) and hardworking nutrient powerhouses like zucchini and yellow squash. The result? A meal low in fat, high in fiber, and loaded with vitamins A and C.

Though not quite as tender, lamb shoulder chops have deeper flavor than rib chops and won't break the bank.

With its tantalizing aroma of garlic, sesame, and Asiago cheese, this Middle Eastern flatbread may well be gone before you can even put it on the table.

Coarsely chopped coriander seeds add a lovely floral note to this nutty Middle Eastern grain.

A bit of cardamom gives this dessert its exotic flavor. The pudding needs to chill about five hours before serving, so be sure to plan ahead.

Persian in origin, this soufflé is wonderfully airy, and the eggplant is infused with garlic and lemon. Think of it as a warm, puffy baba ghanouj.

With these distinctly Middle Eastern kebabs, the minty coolness of the yogurt sauce offsets the allspice, pepper, and cinnamon in some of the most succulent and juicy meatballs you have ever tasted.

Flavored teas such as Meramieh are served mainly in the afternoon when friends come over to visit. The tea is presented on a tray, surrounded by small colored or clear delicate glasses or tiny cups and saucers. Sugar and spoons are placed on the tray for each guest to add as much sugar as he or she likes.

This no-bake dessert features alternating layers of savory pistachio-studded semolina and a cooked cream called kashta, set into a springform cake pan and chilled in the refrigerator overnight. If you are feeding a crowd, double the recipe and forgo the cake shape for a looser presentation: Spread all the semolina mixture on a large platter, spoon the kashta over it, and garnish with the nuts and powdered sugar; then spoon it into dessert bowls. There is no English translation for kashta, pronounced "ahshta," but it is often described as the Arab equivalent of clotted cream. This fragrant cake filling is also delicious as a breakfast treat, drizzled with honey or swabbed on a piece of toast.

When there is a whole lamb on the Arab table, the occasion is a special one. It is prepared to celebrate the birth of a child, a marriage, the return from a pilgrimage, or the recuperation from illness. For the host, it is an opportunity to honor the guests, showing them how important they are. When I was growing up, my mother always prepared it for the Eid al Adha, the celebration for the end of the pilgrimage to Mecca. It used to be that only families of little means, who could not afford to buy a whole lamb, stuffed the shoulder, neck, or leg. These days, anyone who is preparing dinner for a small gathering will stuff just the leg, as I do here, with a mix of herbs, garlic, and carrots. I prefer farm-raised fresh lamb for this dish, for its tender, delicate meat. Ask your butcher to butterfly the leg of lamb and to leave the thin membrane on the leg; it retains the meat's juices as it cooks.