Ramadan

This dearly loved Egyptian specialty is a loose mixture of nuts and spices in a dry, crushed, but not powdered form, usually eaten with bread dipped in olive oil. In Egypt it is served at breakfast or as an appetizer. It is a very personal and individual mixture which varies from one family to another. On a recent visit to Australia I was amazed to find that my mother’s recipe had made it fashionable there. Wineries were inspired to produce their own adaptations of “Aussie dukkah” with locally grown seeds, different spices, and even ground chili pepper and now sell it in elegant packages, while restaurants put some out on little plates for people to dip in. It will keep for months stored in a jar. To serve, pour a little olive oil on small slices of bread and sprinkle generously with the mixture. Or provide Arab bread for people to tear pieces and dip into bowls of olive oil and do’a.

Osmaliyah has been known for generations in my family in Egypt as konafa and I have featured it before. I include it here again because, of all the Lebanese pastries that are good to make at home and to serve at a dinner party, this is one of the best; it is my mother’s recipe. It is meant to be served hot but it is also good cold. You can buy the soft white vermicelli-like dough frozen in Lebanese, Turkish, and Greek stores. In Lebanon, it is called knafe but in America it is sold by its Greek name, kataifi, usually in 1-pound packages; it should be defrosted for 2 to 3 hours. The quantities below will make one large pastry to serve 10, but you can also make two half the size—one to serve fewer people and one to put in the freezer to bake at a later date. It freezes well uncooked.

Muhallabiya is the most popular Lebanese dessert. In restaurants it is usually made with cornstarch. At home, ground rice or a mixture of both is used. It is a special refinement to pour a little honey syrup over the top and to garnish it with a large amount of chopped nuts. It is very easy to make, but it needs attention and patience during the long stirring.

The dish takes its name from the governor who administered Mount Lebanon between 1861 and 1868 in Ottoman times. Serve it with plain or Vermicelli Rice (page 304).

Kibbeh forms a major part of the national dishes of Lebanon. There are countless versions, from a raw meat paste to little, oval shells stuffed with a ground meat filling and deep-fried or cooked in yogurt or bitter orange juice, as well as vegetarian kibbeh with pumpkin or potato, and one with fish—each version having a number of regional variations. One thing they all have in common is bulgur (burghul in Lebanon). Since most are labor-intensive and require skill and application, they are not the kind of thing you undertake if you are not part of the culture. So I was very happy to discover a traditional kibbeh that was truly delightful and relatively easy, with only one layer of kibbeh and a flavorsome onion and pine nut topping. I found it in a little restaurant in Beirut called Kibbet Zaman (Yesterday’s Kibbeh). It can be served hot or cold (I prefer it hot) as a main dish or cut up small as a mezze. It is really worth doing—I guarantee you will surprise your guests. Accompany it with baba ghanouj (page 248), hummus (page 249), and a salad

Look for the frozen artichoke bottoms—a flat cup variety from Egypt—in Middle Eastern stores. There are about 9 in a 14-ounce package. Serve the dish hot with Vermicelli Rice (page 304).

Roz bil shaghrieh is the everyday rice that accompanies stews, stuffed vegetables, and grills in Lebanon. People also eat it by itself with yogurt poured over. The short-grain rice from Egypt is the traditional rice used, but today basmati is preferred. Middle Eastern stores sell Italian “cut” vermicelli called filini and similar Turkish Şehriye, but otherwise you can buy vermicelli nests and break them in your hands into small 3/4-inch pieces.

A number of dishes that go under the general name of fatta all have in common a bed of toasted bread, soaked in stock, and a topping of yogurt. The name denotes the manner of breaking up crisp, toasted bread with your hands. To me, they recall a special person, the late Josephine Salam. Many years ago I received a letter from her from Beirut saying that she had a number of recipes she thought I would like. On our first meeting, at Claridge’s tearoom in London, where a band played Noël Coward tunes, she offered to come to my house and show me how to make fatta with chicken. We made that and many more meals together. It was the time of the civil war in Lebanon, and as she came and went from the country, I received an ongoing account of everyday life in the ravaged city. Her daughter, Rana, has become an artist and designer. For her thesis at the Royal College of Art in London, she asked me to give a lecture on the history of Middle Eastern food. She had ten portraits of me painted on cloth by a poster-painter in Egypt (he used photographs I gave Rana) and hung them around the college to publicize the event. She laid out foods and spices as in a souk, put on a tape of sounds and music recorded in an Egyptian street, and passed around Arab delicacies. When she visited me a few years later with her husband and new baby, I offered her the fatta with stuffed eggplants on page 300.

This dish is complex and requires time, but it has dramatic appeal and it is quite delicious with layers of different textures and flavors. I like to add two ingredients that are optional: pomegranate molasses (see page 7), which gives a brown color and sweet-and-sour flavor to the tomato sauce, and tahini (see page 7), which gives a nutty flavor to the yogurt. Look for small eggplants, 4 to 4 1/4 inches long, which can usually be found in Middle Eastern and Asian stores.

A layer of chickpeas, spread over bread soaked in their cooking broth, smothered in yogurt with an elusive taste of tahini, and topped with pine nuts may sound heavy but it is surprisingly light and delicate in the eating, and the mix of textures, temperatures, and flavors is a joy. The bread must be the very thin flat bread known as khobz halabi, which is sold by Lebanese bakeries. You need either 1 large one measuring about 12 inches in diameter, or 2 smaller ones; or use 1 pita bread instead.

For this fresh-tasting soup, I blend the tomatoes to a cream in the food processor without peeling them and cook them only a little. The egg and lemon finish gives it a creamy texture. The rice should be cooked separately and added just before serving as it goes mushy if it stays too long in the soup. Spearmint is commonly used but you can use other types of mint.

There is a mystique around the preparation of this famous salad. I watched my friend Kamal make it in Beirut, and his main tip was that you must slice, not chop, the parsley, so that it does not get crushed and mushy. Use the fine-ground bulgur, which is available in Middle Eastern stores. These stores and Asian ones also sell parsley in tied bunches that weigh between 7 ounces and 10 ounces with stems. Mix and dress the salad only when you are ready to serve.

This wonderful, creamy pie is somewhere between a savory flan and a spinach lasagne. The fillo turns into a soft, very thin pasta, so don’t expect it to be crisp and papery. It sounds complicated, but it is quite easy and really worth the labor. I am sure you will be delighted by the result. It can be made in advance and reheated. The pie is excellent when cut up into small pieces and served at a party. Use a package of fillo containing large-size sheets. (I used a 14-ounce package of sheets measuring 19 inches × 12 inches, minus 2 sheets.) The large sheets are usually sold frozen and you need to defrost them for 2 to 3 hours before using (see page 9 for information about fillo). The Turkish kasar, a sharp hard cheese, can be found in Turkish stores but mature Cheddar is equally good for the dish. From the supermarket, you can now buy packages of young spinach leaves, washed and ready to use, but you can also use not-so-young spinach and remove any thick stems, or use frozen leaf spinach.

This is a version of a surprising paste that you also find in Turkey. Pomegranate molasses (or concentrate) gives it an intriguing sweet-and-sour flavor (see page 7). Some like it peppery-hot with chili flakes or purée (see Variation below); personally, I like it with only a touch of ground chili pepper.

Turkey has a very wide range of milk puddings. I once spent much of one night watching specialist milk pudding–makers at work, endlessly stirring creams in giant copper cauldrons. They said they had to work at night because that was when the milk arrived, which was why, they complained, they could not recruit young people to do the job. I don’t blame them. This pudding, made with ground almonds, is my favorite.

These dainty little rolls, or “cigars,” make ideal appetizers and canapés. The cheese used is beyaz peynir, or “white cheese,” which is salty and much like feta cheese. Use large sheets of fillo measuring about 19 inches × 12 inches, cut into strips, but if the fillo sheets are too thin, the pastry is liable to tear and the filling to burst out during the cooking. In that case, use 2 strips together, brushing with butter in between. You will then need to double the number of sheets. I prefer using only one strip if possible, as it makes for a lighter pastry. (See page 9 for information about fillo.) Serve the rolls hot. They can be made in advance and reheated.