Margat sharab al-rumman: Chicken fesenjan, Iraqi style

Chicken fesenjan (and variants fesenjaan, fesenjoon and faisinjan) was, if I remember rightly, the very first authentic Persian dish I ever made. It is one of those dishes whose tart and heady flavour is so beguiling that you are amazed when you realize you actually made it yourself.

The stew's key ingredients, walnut and pomegranate, are a combination that appears in various guises throughout the Middle East, for instance in this Turkish dip. There it was bold and sassy, but in this Iraqi rendition of fesenjan, or fasanjoun as it appears to be called in Iraq, it is altogether more subtle. In fact, this is really more comfort food, with very mild spicing and a lovely thick sauce enriched with ground walnuts and pomegranate paste. It is rather different from the fesenjan of my memory (but it has been a few years), but a lovely alternative anyway.

Since I had always associated fesenjan with Iran, it was a surprise to find a recipe in Delights from the Garden of Eden: A Cookbook & a History of the Iraqi Cuisine (more on the book in a minute). But according to the author, Nawal Nasrallah, fasanjoun is one of the few non-Iraqi stews that have found a permanent place in the the Iraqi culinary canon.

Her version has different spicing and less onions, walnuts and pomegranate paste than my original attempt, and the other recipes I have (by Najmieh Batmanglij & Claudia Roden) for this dish. It is lovely just the same.

As for the book, my first impression was wow!! Coming in at 644 pages, this is a weighty tome in more than one sense. The recipes look, to the uninitiated (i.e. me), to be almost encyclopedic; but the book is so much more than that. It has the low-down on the cuisine right back into antiquity, and all sorts of personal recollections, literary and historical quotes, and anecdotes aplenty. In short, you couldn't want for a better book on all things to do with the Iraqi kitchen.

Garden seems to have been self-published, and I think it is a very great shame that the author, for whom it must have been the labour of very many years, did not or could not find a major publisher befitting her book's place as the classic work that it is. I was also moved to tears by her apology at the beginning of the book.

Considering the hardships that Iraq has been going through for more than a decade, some might think that this is not the right time to write about food. But as a wife, a mother, a woman, and a human being, I find in food and in the memories of food my refuge, my comfort and consolation when things are not looking good...

I absolutely agree and no apology is needed. It is precisely in times of strife (if that is the word; I don't want to get political here...) that food becomes important. I'm sure that Ms. Nasrallah's work will serve Iraqis who end up settling outside their homeland a beloved scent and taste of home, while also giving the rest of us who might seek to know the culture better, an unbiased, non-political entry point. I highly recommend it and rank it alongside Claudia's Book of Jewish Food and Najmieh's New Food of Life.

Margat sharab al-rumman: Pomegranate and walnut stew with chicken (Iraqi style fesenjan)

For 4

3 skinless chicken thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces
2 tbsp oil
1 medium onion, chopped finely
1/2 tsp turmeric
1 tbsp flour
1 cup toasted walnuts, pulverized in a food processor until oily

2 cups water
1/4 cup pomegranate syrup
(or substitute with juice of 1 lime or lemon, 2 tbsp brown sugar and 1/2 cup tomato juice)
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cardamom
1/4 tsp each black pepper, cumin and cinnamon
2 cups diced vegetables [S: I used zucchini; but the author suggests potatoes or sliced, fried eggplants]
1/4 cup fresh pomegranate seeds [S: If available], and chopped parsley or dried mint to garnish

1 In a medium pot, heat half the oil and brown the chicken on all sides.

2 Add onion and turmeric, and fold until onion is transparent, about 5 minutes. Sprinkle flour and walnut on the onion, and fold for a few more minutes.

3 Add remaining ingredients except for garnish, and stir carefully. Bring to a quick boil, then reduce heat and let simmer gently for about 40 minutes, or until the meat and vegetables are tender, and the sauce nicely thickened.

4 Garnish with chopped parsley and pomegranate seeds, and serve with white rice.


As I was writing this, I though about looking up the recipe for my first fesenjan on the Net. Unfortunately, it seems its poster has since passed away and we can no longer access the Persian recipes he had on his professional web site. I still have the print out, so here it is. Although I never knew agha-ye Mokhtarian, this recipe made a big impression, and helped stoke the engines of at least one culinary quest that I know of. You can try both recipes and see how things change when a dish crosses borders. It's something I find quite fascinating.

The original recipe gives measurements in "glasses" and "spoons". I have taken these to mean 200 ml cups and 15 ml tablespoons.

Khoresht fesenjaan: Iranian chicken in walnut and pomegranate sauce

For 6

1-1.5 kg chicken pieces
500 g ground walnuts
3-4 onions
4-5 tbsp pomegranate paste
2-3 tbsp sugar
1/2 cup oil [S: I probably used less than that]
salt

Peel onions and slice thinly. Fry in oil until slightly golden. Wash chicken pieces and fry in onions until color changes. Add 3 cups of hot water and bring to the boil Turn heat down and let boil slowly for about 30 minutes, adding more hot water if needed.

Add salt, ground walnuts, pomegranate paste and 2 more cups of hot water and bring to slow boil. If pomegranate paste is sour, add some sugar to the khoresht.

Care should be taken to cook the khorest long enough so that the oil in the walnuts comes out and the mix becomes quite thick. Khoresht fesenjan should be served with white rice.

Enjoy!

Kofta Mishmisheya: Iraqi meatballs in apricot sauce

I had some dried apricots left from my trip to Turkey last summer, and, having managed to acquire some more from Tehran Shop, decided to use up the last of my little stash of these divine little treats. I thought I remembered a Georgian (was it?) dish in Claudia Roden's The New Book of Middle Eastern Food, which was one of my very first ME cookbook acquisitions. However, in all the hundreds of recipes, I didn't find the one I was trying to recall (perhaps it is in Najmieh khanom's Silk Road Cooking instead?). Anyway, I found this easy-looking recipe in The Book of Jewish Food, Claudia's other major work of a lifetime (which I hope you will give in and just buy, already (g); it is absolutely the best world cookbook, even for gentiles like me, and one I would love to see emulated by authorities of other cuisines).

Anyway, although this is a Jewish recipe, I used beef/pork mince, Turkish apricots and Iranian ground dried limes, thereby disrespecting all traditions in equal measure, I'm afraid. However, since it is all in the pursuit of good taste, I hope I'll be forgiven.

As it was my first time to make this dish, I made it pretty much to specification. I did feel that the the spicing was a little subtle for me (I like big, bold flavours, after all), and next time I'll probably double the dried lime, and maybe even add some bread soaked in water and squeezed out, as I really like what happens to meatballs when you do this (probably a slice and a half of bread for this much meat). Incidentally, you can check the spicing of your meatballs by frying a little taste up before you commit to rolling your balls. I know on good authority that professional chefs do this all the time. I also upped the lemon juice (but I'm like that (g)).

All in all this was very easy and a nice change from the show-off Middle Eastern stuff I usually cook (g).

As an aside, I realize all my Iraqi recipes are Jewish, so to balance things up a bit, I'm thinking of buying this title. (I know, I know, I'm not supposed to be buying more cookbooks, but the one I've had on order since before Christmas is out of print. Surely I can replace it with this one until that title is reprinted, no? (g). I'm incorrigible, I know...)

Kofta mishmisheya

Serves 4

1 large onion, chopped
3-4 tbsp oil
750 g minced lamb [S: or other meat]
1-2 tbsp ground dried lime [if grinding your own, use the pale dried limes, or limu, that you can get in Middle Eastern/Persian stores]
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp allspice
salt and pepper
3-4 tbsp tomato paste
200 g dried apricots, soaked in water for 1/2 hour [S: Make sure these are not sweetened ones or your sauce will be more of a jam (g)]
3-4 tbsp currants or raisins [S: I used sultanas, same difference]
juice of 1 or 1 1/2 lemons or to taste
1 tsp sugar [S: I didn't think it needed it; you judge for yourself]

In a large frying pan, fry the onion in oil till golden. With your hands, work the meat into a paste with the dried lime, cloves, allspice, 1 tsp of salt and pepper and roll into walnut-sized balls. Add them to the pan and cook, turning them to brown them all over. [S: Depending on the amount of fat in the meat, you may want to drain some off at this point.] Stir in the tomato paste, add the drained apricots [S: I sliced them first] and the currants or raisins and cover with water [S: I used the water the apricots soaked in]. Simmer for about 25 minutes. Add lemon juice and sugar and a little salt and pepper and simmer for another 20 minutes.

Enjoy!

Ingriyi: Iraqi sweet and sour meat and aubergine

When I was but a stamen in the bud of the family crocus, Saffron-Papa was in the habit of making lazy Sunday dinners that would get started around 3 pm and eaten 3 or 4 hours later.

Often it would be a big pot of soup, or a roast or what have you, that he would get started early and leave to do its thing, popping back in from time to time only to check its progress as the afternoon wore on. He could enjoy the motor racing or whatever the sport of the day was, and produce something very tasty for dinner--without breaking into a sweat.

These days we call it Slow Food, and if anyone had suggested then that one day I might like nothing better than puttering about the kitchen producing a meal that might take hours to reach perfection, I would have wondered if they were delirious.

However, it seems that genes do sometimes have their way, and now it is my turn to pass on the lazy Sunday supper tradition.

I've made the recipe below several times now, but the first time I made it was the weekend after "shock and awe". It was a little act of solidarity with the people of Iraq as their country was invaded by the US and its hangers on, such as the countries of my birth and later residence. Not one of our finest moments. At that point I did not have a lot of Iraqi music (I'm still open to recommendations, if anyone has any. Hint, hint (g)), so I cranked up a classic Antipodean protest song by the cult band Midnight Oil, which starts with the line: "US forces give the nod/ It's a setback for your country". As protests go, mine was decidedly ineffectual, but I did learn a new dish and gain an appreciation for the culinary arts of a country unlucky enough to be in the cross-hairs of the US.

This is another recipe from Claudia Roden's masterpiece The Book of Jewish Food, where she tells us that it "became the traditional festive and Sabbath dish of the Bombay [Jewish] community, which was formed in a great part by Jews from Iraq." Well that's not so surprising I suppose, since lamb and tamarind are staples in India, too.

Anyway, it is the perfect dish for one of those lazy Sunday afternoons we were talking about earlier. The only thing that requires any close watching is the caramelising of the onions and frying of the eggplant [aubergine], which you can do at the same time, anyway.

I cook the meat under low pressure for around 40 minutes, which is plenty of time to sort the onions and eggplant.

I would also suggest adding a little more tamarind paste (say half a tablespoon) for extra oomph.

Ingriyi

Serves 8 or more

1.25 kg lamb or beef, cubed
salt
2 large aubergines, weighing about 1 kg, cut into 1.25 cm slices
1 kg onions, sliced [S: 3-4 large onions]
sunflower oil for frying
1.25 kg large tomatoes, peeled and sliced [S: thickly; say 4-5 large tomatoes]
pepper
2 tbsp tamarind paste
1-2 tbsp sugar, or to taste

Simmer the meat in water to cover with a little salt for 1 1/2-2 hours, until tender [S: about 40 minutes under low pressure].

Sprinkle the aubergine slices with salt and leave for 1 hour to draw out their juices.

Fry the onions in 3 tbsp of oil over low heat till very soft and really brown, which gives them a caramelized taste [S: adding a pinch of salt to the onions is supposed to speed the caramelising process].

Rinse and dry the aubergine in a tea towel, then fry briefly in very hot oil [S: I slice the eggplant fairly thick, so it is better to fry them over medium heat until tender as they don't cook much more in the oven], turning over once, until lightly browned. Alternatively, you can brush the slices with oil and cook them under the grill [S: perhaps in other countries with grills larger than 2 slices of toast... (g)].

In a [deep] baking dish, assemble layers of aubergine slices, drained meat (keep the stock), onions and tomatoes, sprinkling each with a little salt and pepper.

Heat about 250 ml of the meat stock in a small pan and stir in the tamarind and sugar. When the paste has dissolved, pour evenly over the layers. Bake at 180 C for 30-40 minutes. Serve hot with rice.

Enjoy!

Nanaeya: Iraqi meatballs with garlicky and minty sweet and sour sauce

I've been sitting on this lip-smacking dish for a while, now, not really knowing what to say about it. It is not the Iraqi lamb, eggplant and onion dish I promised earlier (it's not really the season for tomatoes or eggplants, after all), but it is Iraqi.

I made it on Sunday the 16th, and woke up on Monday the 17th to the news that the Turkish government had actually made good on its threat to cross into Iraqi Kurdistan. As someone with Turkish friends, Kurdish friends and friends in Iraq, it just didn't seem the right time to add more fuel to the fire with this, a Jewish Iraqi dish.

But I hope I will be forgiven, anyway, since this bright, sunny dish is the perfect antidote to the winter blahs and, if you are in warmer climes, so much the better, as it is a Passover dish, which makes springtime its usual season.

It is from my very favourite cookbook, The Book of Jewish Food by Claudia Roden. This is my desert island cookbook. (But I’ll only consent to the island bit if it has a self-replenishing supply of all my foodie goodies (g). Otherwise, it would be sheer culinary torture.)

I don’t know about you, but the cookbooks I like best put the dishes in their historical and cultural setting, teaching me something of the people who devised them and why, and why I would want to cook them. All of Claudia’s books do this, but The Book is in a class of its own (Nigella Lawson calls it the best food book she's ever read; I say it is one of the best books I've read, full stop.)

With literally hundreds of recipes, it covers the cuisines of Jews the world over (Italy, India and China included). Its main focus, however, is the food of the various Middle Eastern Jews. For the stove-top traveller (such as myself), it is a veritable treasure trove to come back to time and again. I encourage everyone with an interest in the food of this region--regardless of their personal brand of religious sentiment (or lack thereof)--to rush out and get a copy of this book pronto.

Anyone with firsthand knowledge of other styles of Iraqi cooking, please feel free to comment on this dish. I love finding commonalities (and differences) in unexpected places.

750 g minced lamb (or beef or pork (!), or...)
Salt and pepper
1 bunch of flat-leafed parsley, finely chopped (I used a Japanese "bunch", which comes in a little plastic coffin minus most of the stalk)
1 1/2 large onions, chopped (or sliced in half-rings for a more textured sauce)
3 tbsp light vegetable oil
6 or more garlic cloves or to taste, finely chopped Juice of 1 1/2 lemons
1 1/2 tbsp sugar or to taste
1 large bunch of fresh mint, finely chopped (I used 1 of those coffins of peppermint and just picked the leaves without chopping them)
2 tomatoes, chopped (optional)

Make the meatballs first: mix the meat with about 3/4 tsp of salt, pepper and the parsley and work to a soft paste with your hands (I use the Asian method whereby you pick up and dash the mix against your bowl a few times until the fat disperses and it becomes paste-like), then roll into balls the size of walnuts.

For the sauce: fry the onions in the oil till soft. Add the garlic and the meatballs to brown them all over (I had to push the onions aside for this manoeuvre). Add chopped tomatoes, if using. Now pour in water not quite to cover the meat and bring to the boil (I needed to skim the scum off). Add a little salt and pepper and simmer for about 25 minutes, until the meatballs are very tender and the sauce reduced, turning the meatballs over once. Mix the lemon juice and sugar and pour over the meat. Cook for 15 minutes more, scattering the mint over in the last few minutes (the recipes adds it with the juice and sugar, but I think it would look better without being cooked so much, and that is what I'll do next time).

Enjoy!