Lamb Stew with Apricots from 13th Century Syria

My garden this year is producing rainbow chard.  This makes the squirrels very happy!  They eat the leafy green parts, leaving me the bare rib.  At least they don't eat all the leafy parts -- I do get some.  But those bare ribs got me thinking about recipes that ask for just the ribs, and that led me to Charles Perry's wonderful book, Scents and Flavors, A Syrian Cookbook.

ISBN 978-1-4798-5628-2

There were several candidates that looked tasty, so I made a list of their ingredients and visited my local farmers market.  When I saw how lovely the fresh apricots were, I know which recipe I wanted to make.  It is on page 139, and is recipe number 6.134.

Section on apricots, two recipes

The first recipe

Boil fresh apricots until they fall apart and thicken while boiling with a piece of bread or a handful of pounded rice.  Strain and put into a pot.  Add pieces of fat meat and leave on the fire until half done.  Add ribs of chard, mint, whole onions, and whole unpeeled heads of garlic.  Make large meatballs with rice, crushed chickpeas, and pepper.  Leave in the pan until the meat is fully cooked and falling apart, then ladle out.  If it isn't sour enough, add lemon juice.

My Redaction

2 pounds lamb shoulder

1 lb 10 oz fresh apricots (or more!)

13 ounces small onions

1 head garlic

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 oz rice, ground

1/2 cup garbanzo beans (chickpeas) from a can, rinsed and drained

5 oz chard ribs

1/2 oz uncooked rice for the meatballs

1 sprig mint

1 tablespoon lemon juice

salt to taste

My Notes

Pit the apricots and slice them into eighths.  Put them into a saucepan with 2 cups water.  Mix in the ground rice.  Bring to a boil then reduce heat and allow to barely simmer until the apricots have fallen apart and the mixture is thickened, stirring occasionally.  This took two hours because I had it simmering very slowly.

Push the mixture through a sieve and discard the skins that didn't go through.  Return the mixture to the pan.

Here's where I had to make an interpretation:  The recipe calls for fat meat and for meatballs.  Were they two separate ingredients?  Or was I supposed to use the fat meat to make the meatballs?  I decided to use the meat to make the meatballs.  I think it would be fine to have them as two separate ingredients, too.

Put the lamb into the pureed apricots then slowly simmer.  I let it simmer for 10 minutes and then turned the pieces and let them simmer for another 10 minutes.  I noticed the meat's juices were mixing with the puree.  

I left the meat in big pieces, cut up only enough to fit in the pan.

Remove the lamb, cut the meat away the bones, and chop the meat coarsely.  I used a food processor.

This looked like it was cooked "half done."

Chopped!

Pound the garbanzo beans until they are mostly broken up and like a paste.  Mix that paste into the lamb, along with the pepper and whole rice.

Chickpeas before.

Chickpeas after pounding, then fluffed with a fork.

Form meatballs that are about 1 1/2 to 2 inches in diameter.  (They were very moist.)  Set aside.

Clean the onions by cutting off the ends and removing the outer skin.  

Clean the head of garlic.  I had trouble getting the dirt off the root end, so I decided to break apart the head and use unpeeled cloves.

Chop the chard into 1 inch pieces.

Remove the leaves from the mint sprig and finely chop them.

Onions, chard, and mint are ready for the pan!

Mix the mint into the puree.  Stir in the chard and then add the whole onions and garlic cloves.

Carefully place the meatballs into the pan.  I had to push the onions around to make room for them and to make sure they were surrounded by sauce.

Cover the pan and slowly simmer for about an hour.  I stirred it after 15 minutes and believe that was a mistake because some of the meatballs fell apart.  At the end of the hour, all the meatballs had fallen apart.  I decided that was not a problem.  

When I tasted it, I decided it needed a splash of lemon juice to make it more sour.  I estimate I added about 1 tablespoon, at the very most.  I also added a little salt.

The Verdict

I served this stew with some white rice and a watermelon salad that had mint, lime juice, olive oil, a little salt and pepper, and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar over the top.

There were no meatballs -- the meat was disbursed throughout the sauce.  Since I had chopped the meat coarsely, the pieces were visible and did not melt into the sauce.  I liked the way it looked.

The onions appeared to be cooked through.  I could not see the garlic cloves.

I loved the flavor!  It was subtle; you should not think it was bland.  I thought it was well-balanced.  None of the supporting flavors stood out or dominated, and there was a definite lamb flavor.  But when I focused on what I was eating, I could get the hint of apricot.

The onions cut apart easily and were cooked through, so were very mild.  Having to cut them made for a texture and activity change while eating, which was welcome.  I could choose to either cut them into pieces and mix the pieces into the stew in my bowl, or eat chunks of onion.  I did both, and liked it.

The garlic was interesting.  The cloves were cooked all the way through, so they were also mild, with just enough of a garlic burst to make it interesting.  However, my guest taster and I did not like having to pull the skins out of our mouths when we encountered them.  I think if I had been comfortable in putting the whole head of garlic into the stew, I would have removed it once the cooking was done and no one would have gotten it in a spoonful.  Perhaps the peeled cloves could have been served as a spread on bread or added to the stew as a garnish? 

It was an enjoyable meal.  My guest taster had three servings!  The watermelon salad was a refreshing, sweet-and-sour accompaniment, and we included a nice pinot noir.  

Success!

If I were to do this again (and my guest taster says I should), I think I would use at least double the amount of apricots.  It would be nice to have that flavor stand out more.  I would also use more mint, so I got its distinctive tang on my tongue while eating.  I would not want to shift the balance of flavors too much, as the subtle blend was very good.  

It would be fun to try the option of having both meat and meatballs.  I suspect that was the original intent.  The meatballs would be a good visual aspect and make the eating experience more interesting.  I think the pepper would have a chance to stand out more.

I also think I would try pearl onions, although I didn't mind the onions I used in this attempt.  

I might also start with dried garbanzo beans and pound them to a powder.  I suspect this would help bind the meatballs to keep them from falling apart.

Leftovers:  I reheated the stew and the rice, served them side-by-side, but this time I drizzled some pomegranate molasses over the top of the stew.  It was an excellent addition, adding more sweet and sour to the overall flavor balance.  

Another Medieval Syrian Dish! Eggplant, The Third Kind

 I was inspired yet again by Charles Perry's translation of Scents and Flavors.  This time I had two big eggplants that were just asking to be made medieval.

This one, under the category of eggplant dishes, is on page 241 and is recipe #8.90.

The Third Kind

Fry the eggplants in sesame oil, then take the crumb of cold kumāj bread and put it through a sieve.  Mince parsley, mint, and rue -- predominantly parsley -- and rub each herb separately with salt until they wilt.  Rub the bread crumbs with them until mixed and add sesame paste and rub until mixed.  Then put in mixed spices, coriander seeds, caraway, wine vinegar, lemon juice sweetened with sugar, and a little olive oil.  Put the mixture on the eggplants along with a little pounded garlic, which will perfume and enhance the flavor.

My Redaction

1/4 cup fine, soft bread crumbs

1/2 cup minced parsley (measured "fluffy", not compacted)

1/4 cup minced mint (fluffy)

1/8 cup minced rue (fluffy, as much as rue would fluff, anyway)

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon tahini

1 bay leaf

1/5 of a nut of nutmeg

1/8 teaspoon each of ginger, black pepper, cardamom, mace, caraway seed, ground coriander

dash of cloves

3 tablespoons white wine vinegar

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon sugar

drizzle of olive oil

1/2 clove garlic, peeled

2 large eggplants, sliced and ends removed

sesame oil, about 1 cup for frying

My Notes

Kumāj bread is listed as "a thick flatbread of Turkish origin, cooked in a pan set on embers." (page 290).  I didn't have this, so I used a whole wheat bagel.  I broke the bagel in half, then tore up one half into small pieces.  I then rubbed it through a wire sieve until I got a lovely pile of crumbs.

I did not fry the eggplant first.  The sauce looked complicated so I decided to tackle it first.  

Notice there are no quantities listed for the sauce ingredients.  I had to wing it!  I tried to keep in mind that I needed enough of a flavorful sauce to put on the two big eggplants (I decided not to use the small eggplants, even though they were from my garden), but I didn't want to make a huge amount.

I started with the herbs.  First I minced them and then guessed at the proportions:  one part rue to two parts mint to three parts parsley.  This made it "predominantly parsley" while hopefully allowing the flavor of rue to enter without the bitterness being too strong.  When I estimated their quantities, they were "fluffy" measurements -- the minced herbs were not packed down at all.

I have never before rubbed herbs with salt to make them wilt.  I wasn't quite sure what changes to expect.  So I sprinkled them and rubbed and also used at pestle to pound them a little.  I'm not sure I saw much of a difference, but this is where I stopped:

I put in a little scoop of bread crumbs and mixed those in with a spoon.  Then the tahini.  

The spice list was really long!  On page 41, there is a list of what constitutes "mixed spices", so I chose what I had from there.  Everything was supposed to be pounded separately, but have you ever tried powdering a bay leaf by itself in a mortar?  It wasn't going to happen.

I tried putting a piece of nutmeg in with it, hoping that pounding them together would break up the leaf.

Nope, that strategy didn't work.  The nutmeg went to powder and the leaf stayed about the same.  So I put all the spices into the mortar (pounded or not) and started pounding.

After a lot of it was powdered, I sifted the fine spices into the herb mix and returned the chunks to the mortar and kept pounding.  This worked really well to reduce the bay leaf to powder.

Next up:  the liquids.  I decided that the primary flavor should be from the white wine vinegar, with the lemon and sugar to balance out the sweet-sour blend.  I also included just a drizzle of olive oil.

It took several adjustments to get it right.  At first the texture was a damp paste that tasted really good!

But I really wanted a spreadable, wet sauce, so I kept adding vinegar and lemon and sugar until I got this:

I decided to pound the garlic in the mortar and add it directly to the sauce.

Then I began to fry the eggplant.  The slices were about 1/2 inch thick.  The pan was heated to medium, I put in some sesame oil, and added the eggplant.  They soaked the oil up like sponges!  I had to keep adding oil until they stopped drying the pan out and then the slices actually cooked in the oil.

It took two large fry pans to cook all the eggplant in a timely manner.  

As the slices cooked to browned and tender all the way through, even at the edges, I moved them to a platter and spread a little of the sauce over them.  

They stacked nicely and looked good when they were all cooked.  I ran out of sauce with one slice left.

The Verdict

I served it with a pine nut couscous and apple slices.

The eggplant was really good!  The sauce was spicy, tingling on the tongue, bright in flavor, and well-balanced between sweet and sour.

My guest taster and I agreed that the sauce made the dish exciting.  We tasted the eggplant without the sauce and liked it, but with the sauce, it was just that much better.

The sesame oil made it rich, the eggplant added body and moisture, and the sauce added a zing.  

I couldn't really taste all the spices and I couldn't really tell that there was specifically vinegar and lemon juice in it, but overall, it had the sour and the spicy and the mint.  We loved it and ate most of it.

Success!

I honestly think it would be hard to mess this sauce up.  I just guessed at the amounts and it all came together.  Even if you put in too much of one ingredient, you have opportunities to balance it out with some of the other ingredients.  

I'm really glad I made it as liquid as I did.  That made it easy to scoop a little in a spoon, drop it onto a slice, and then spread it over the slice.  It helped me portion it out over most of the slices.  Although having some extra sauce would not be a problem!

Egg Cake (part 2) -- A Medieval Syrian Recipe

Yesterday I wrote about my first attempt at making a medieval Syrian egg cake.  They turned out more like patties and I wasn't convinced I had done it right.  You can read about it here.

I tried it again.  This time I started with 1/2 pound of my homemade sausage (flavor blend #1; you can see the post about it here) and I didn't use cheese inside (honestly, because I forgot!).

First I browned the sausage, breaking it up into smallish pieces.  This was in a big frypan.  While the sausage cooked, I started heating up two small frypans.  I used medium low heat, 3 out of 10.  Once the sausage was ready, I put about one quarter into each small pan, which had been lighted coated with olive oil. 



Then I poured three beaten eggs over the meat in each pan.  This filled the pan nicely.



At this point I patiently waited for the eggs to cook all the way through to the top.  I was concerned about the bottom burning or scorching but I saw no signs of that happening.  It seems the medium low heat was just right.

The recipe says:

Fill the pan with the flavored eggs, leave until dried out, and overturn into a bowl.  Turn it over and fry the other side for a long time.

I wondered how I would do this bowl maneuver; my thought was that any runny egg bits would smear all over the bowl and be difficult to cook.  Now I think "leave until dried out" means really, truly wait until the eggs are cooked all the way through, but I didn't think that when I was right there cooking. 

I managed to wait for the eggs to be cooked all the way for one pan and almost all the way for the other.  Instead of using a bowl, I used the large pan that the sausage was cooked in:  I just flipped the egg cake over into the heated pan.



This is the one that I didn't cook until the top was entirely dry, and you can see that some of the liquid egg splashed out and made the cake look sloppy.  After that egg cooked, I simply cut it off with the spatula to tidy up the cake's look.

The second egg cake was flipped into the pan of the first egg cake.  It was nearly dry on top so there wasn't much that slopped and the cake fit in the pan nicely.



I cooked them both just a little while longer to make sure they were done, then I served them up with toast and the rest of the sausage on the side.  I sprinkled the tops with the spice mix I had used before and some Parmesan cheese.

Homemade Swedish rye bread.  I love cooking.

The Verdict

Definitely more cake-like in its form.  I believe I achieved what the recipe's author intended this time.  

The flavor was fine -- not overcooked eggs and still moist.  The spice mix and cheese on top were good, although I wish I had remembered to put the cheese inside the cake, too.  

The sausage added a nice spice "zing" that I had wished for the first time I tried the recipe.  It still could have used more spice and I think an asiago cheese would have been better.  To me, eggs are pretty bland and need more flavor to make them interesting.  

This would be good to serve to multiple people by cutting it into wedges.  I think it would work for a buffet brunch meal; you could adjust the flavorings to suit your guests just like you would an omelet.  

Success!  Both in flavor and in form.

Egg Cake (part 1) -- A Medieval Syrian Recipe

Yes, I am still exploring Scents and Flavors, translated by Charles Perry.  It is worth it!

ISBN 978-1-4798-5628-2

This time my attention was caught by something that would be good for breakfast or as a main course at any meal, although it was offered in the section on Sour and Salty Pickles.  The category was

The thirty-eighth type is egg dishes and egg cakes, of which there are several kinds.

I chose recipe number 8.125 on page 253:

The second kind.

Take meat, pound, and boil.  When done, pound again finely, and fry in fat.  Mince parsley and put the mean and parsley in a bowl.  Break eggs on top and add hot spices, coriander leaves and coriander seeds, pounded cheese, and Ceylon cinnamon.  Fry this mixture in a pan with olive or sesame oil.  The pan should be round with a high rim and a long handle like the handle of a ladle.  Set on a charcoal fire, spoon in the olive or sesame oil, and wait until the oil is hot, then add the eggs and flavorings -- three eggs and a little of the flavorings and fried meat to each egg cake.  Fill the pan with the flavored eggs, leave until dried out, and overturn into a bowl.  Turn it over and fry the other side for a long time.  Prick with a knife and pour on a little olive or sesame oil and spices.  Turn over every so often as described until done.


My Redaction

1 pound ground pork
1/4 cup minced parsley
6 eggs
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/4 teaspoon coriander
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon caraway
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese
sesame oil




My Notes

Cook the meat in sesame oil until the pink is gone.  Mix the meat and the parsley in a bowl.

I took the comment about a little meat with three eggs to heart and put 1/3 of the meat mixture in a separate bowl, then cracked six eggs over the top of it.  Then I put the spices and cheese on top of that.

When I mixed them together, I found it was very wet and runny, and the spices clumped together.  It was hard to get it all to mix through thoroughly without lumps of flavoring in some parts and nothing much in others.

You can see the clumps.

I heated more sesame oil in the pan and poured some of the egg-meat mixture in.



It was very runny and made a puddle of eggs with chunks of meat within.  I strongly suspected this is not what was intended.

Turning them over was easy.  They looked like lumpy pancakes.

So I added the rest of the meat mixture to the egg mixture and tried again.

This time they were thicker patties and that made more sense to me.  I ended up making ten of these and serving them for breakfast with some fresh orange slices.  They were cooked only once on each side.  I tried poking a few and putting some sesame oil onto them.  I sprinkled the whole batch with more of the same spices, which were mixed in a little bowl.

If you look closely, you can see the sprinkled spices.

The Verdict

I just don't think I did these correctly.  The more I think about it, the more I believe I should have used a smaller diameter pan and filled it with just one egg cake.  It would be more like an omelet or a fritatta.  Then the whole thing could be cut into wedges or (if small enough) served to one person.

There were some issues with the meat.  Notice that the ground meat was in long tubes, which I did not break up much when cooking.  I think that was a mistake for the patties as I made them.  It might not be a problem with a thicker egg cake.

There was also a problem with the clumping spices.  Most of the egg cake was pretty bland but occasionally I would get a burst of spice flavoring.  In the future, I would use more spice and I would mix it and the cheese thoroughly into the meat before adding the eggs.

My guest taster and I enjoyed eating them, but we both wanted more flavor.  When we included the pickled raisins (see this post), it was much more enjoyable.

Neither one of us liked the cakes with the extra sesame oil poured on it.

Over all I would call it a success because it certainly wasn't a failure, but I am not thrilled with the outcome.  It needs to be done again.  Look again at tomorrow's post for part two.

The leftovers reheated nicely.  That was a bonus!

Pickled Raisins -- A Medieval Syrian Recipe

I am thoroughly enchanted with Scents and Flavors, translated by Charles Perry.

ISBN  978-1-4798-5628-2

The recipes seem so do-able and intriguing, with flavor combinations I would not normally think of using and techniques easily replicated in the modern kitchen.  I previously tried one of its pickled lemon recipes, with great success.  So much so that I continue to keep a jar of it in my refrigerator whenever I can get lemons.  They are an excellent additive to sandwiches as well as a flavorful relish with any sort of cooked meat.  Read my post on it here.

Therefore I was excited to try another recipe.  There are so many I want to try!  I decided to go with another pickled something, and I was inspired to do the pickled raisins after pruning my mint plant.  This recipe, found on page 215, is #8.38 in the section on various types of sour and salty pickles:

The eighth type is raisin pickles, of which there are several kinds

The first kind

Pick over raisins to remove the useless ones, wash the rest, and dry in a sieve.  Take the smallest ones, wash, and pound in a mortar with mint and wine vinegar; when smooth, strain with vinegar several times until nothing is left of the raisins in the sieve.  Take stems of fresh mint and remove the remaining leaves from the stalks.  Put with the raisins into a pickling jar, alternating a layer of raisins and a generous layer of fresh mint until the jar is nearly filled.  Pour in the vinegar that was strained with the raisins.  If too sour, add honey, sugar, or date syrup, according to the disposition of the individual.  Add some mixed spices and ginger, set aside, and use after six or seven days.  If you want, put in petals of Nisibin roses when they are in season.

My Redaction

For the liquid:
52 grams golden raisins
3 grams fresh mint leaves
3/4 cup (6 ounces) white wine vinegar
3/4 teaspoon honey
3/4 teaspoon mixed spices (cinnamon, cloves, ginger, grains of paradise, pepper, saffron)
1/2 teaspoon powdered ginger

For the pickle:
More raisins
More fresh mint leaves



My Notes

My goal was to fill one pint canning jar.

I did not use rose petals of any kind.

To make the liquid, I started with the raisins and mint leaves and added 1/2 cup vinegar.

I blended the batch until it was finely pureed.  Then I mixed in the spices.  I tasted it and it was lovely!  Sour, slightly sweet, spicy (especially from the ginger), and very minty.  But it was thick and I suspected it was too thick for what the recipe's author intended.

Thick, like a milkshake

So I added another 1/4 cup vinegar and some honey to balance out the sourness.  This made it thinner but not thin, and I decided it would work.

I took the sterilized jar and put in a layer of raisins, tamped it down a little with a pestle, put on a layer of mint leaves and tamped that.  To fill the jar took five layers of raisins with four layers of mint in between, tamping at each layer.

When I poured the liquid over the top, I realized the problem:  it was too thick to work its way down through the layers to the bottom.  So I took a chopstick and poked it into the layers, mostly around the jar's sides, to encourage the liquid to move to the bottom.  It seemed to work, although I'm not sure how well it got into the middle of the jar.  I kept adding liquid until the jar was full.

Once it seemed full, I put the lid on and then tapped the jar a lot.  I hoped it got more liquid down to the bottom.

I still had a lot of liquid left over, so I decided to fill another jar with the raisin pickle.  This time I used dark raisins instead of the golden.  I also decided to pour some liquid over each layer as I was assembling it (after tamping).  This worked well until I ran out of liquid and still needed a little more to finish filling the jar.  So I put together another raisin/mint/vinegar puree (with dark raisins and without measuring), thinned it with a little more vinegar, and added honey and spices (without measuring).  It tasted good and I used it.

That finished the second jar.

You can see where I switched to the dark raisin puree in the top layer.

Both jars were labeled and put into the refrigerator for a week.


The Verdict

The directions, "strain with vinegar several times until nothing is left of the raisins in the sieve" had
me believe that a thick liquid was acceptable, even though most recipes for items that are pickled are in a fairly runny vinegar base.  If nothing was left, then all of the raisin should be reduced to tiny (strainable) bits.  It is why I blended it instead of straining -- I had that modern advantage and it was a way to get the mixture smooth without having to continue to strain several times.

I mixed the spices into the liquid instead of putting them at the top of the jar because it was so thick.  It seemed like they wouldn't have contact with the raisins below the top if just placed on top.

How was it?

I was surprised to see that the whole mass was thick, not liquidy or sloshy at all.  This made sense in that the raisins (dried grapes) soaked up the liquid.  What I spooned onto my plate was moist but firm and not runny.

This was all dark raisins.

The flavor was amazing.  It was spicy, almost too much at first, but I got used to it quickly.  Cinnamon, ginger, pepper, mint, sweet, sour, and more.  It made me think of chutney with the benefit of being quick and easy to assemble, and uncooked.

Initially I was put off by the whole mint leaves.  Sometimes I got a leaf in my mouth and it seemed too strong.  But after a few servings of pickled raisins, I got used to it and enjoyed it.  I think in the future I will cut them before putting them in the jar.  A chiffonade might work well.

I also tasted the mixture that was with golden raisins.  The flavors were the same -- lovely! -- but I believe the golden raisins were more tender than the dark raisins.  They were both excellent.

My guest taster and I both said, "Wow!  This is good!" as we put the pickle on sandwiches, alongside cooked meat, and sometimes just ate a spoonful.  The flavors pack a punch and really brighten whatever meal they accompany.  Although I might cut back on the ginger just a little bit.

Success!  You should look at this book!

Yum.