Armenian

Serve this dish of mashed beans wrapped in flatbread and pan-fried until crisp as a appetizer, or alongside a big green salad for lunch or dinner.

This lavash recipe makes a forgiving dough that can bend to your schedule: You can make the first step and the final product in about 6 hours, or you can spread the work out over the course of a couple days.

Here’s a simple formula for making snappy Armenian-style crackers, perfect for breadbaskets, company, and kids. Lavash, though usually called Armenian flatbread, also has Iranian roots and is now eaten throughout the Middle East and around the world. It is similar to the many other Middle Eastern and North African flatbreads known by different names, such as mankoush or mannaeesh (Lebanese), barbari (Iranian), khoubiz or khobz (Arabian), aiysh (Egyptian), kesret and mella (Tunisian), pide or pita (Turkish), and pideh (Armenian). The main difference between these breads is either how thick or thin the dough is rolled out, or the type of oven in which they are baked (or on which they are baked, as many of these breads are cooked on stones or red-hot pans with a convex surface). Some of the breads form a pocket like a pita bread, and some, like the injera of Ethiopia and Eritrea, are thicker and serve as sponges to soak up spicy sauces. The key to crisp lavash, which is becoming one of the most popular of these flatbread variations, is to roll out the dough paper-thin. The sheet can be cut into crackers in advance or snapped into shards after baking. The shards make a nice presentation when arranged in baskets.

You might not think so, but butter is as important to the cooking of much of India, Africa, the Middle East, and all the way north to the Caucasus as it is to French, Swiss, or Scandinavian cooking. So it’s not too surprising to see it surface as a main ingredient in the broth for this traditional Armenian vegetarian bulgur dish. The red bell pepper and paprika tint the bulgur balls a Titian red, while the mustard and butter add a soft yellow hue to the broth. If there are any leftover balls and broth, chill them together thoroughly, until the broth is thickened to a cheeselike consistency. Then press them together and form the mixture into balls. Drizzle with fruity extra virgin olive and serve with crackers or bread.

This lamb, green bean, and tomato soup-stew, known as fasoulia in the home of my childhood, was the by-product of a regular event: my father dissecting a leg of lamb into its parts, from the most highly treasured, neatly cubed pieces for shish kebab to the fattier but still tender parts for grinding into sausage. A sidebar of the ritual was putting the bone and all the gristly bits into a pot, covering them with water, and gently simmering them into a broth for fasoulia. Even though the dish was a by-product of making shish kebab, it enjoyed a humble stature on our dinner table. These days when I desire a taste of lamb home cooking and am not deconstructing a leg of lamb, I use a bit of purchased ground lamb for meatballs. The green beans are key here, and though I usually turn up my nose at frozen vegetables, I make an exception for fasoulia, so that it can be enjoyed throughout the year. I find this soup-stew doesn’t need anything in the way of a side dish. A slice of bread, a spoon, and family company suffice, but Armenians would include pilaf on the side.

A constant—an icon—of my Armenian American childhood were grape leaves, cabbage leaves, bell peppers, zucchini, and tomatoes wrapped around or stuffed with lamb and rice sausage. My mother, a native of the American Southwest, married my father, an Armenian who enjoyed the honor of being the first of his direct family line to be born in the United States. So, in our family it was he who carried forward the Armenian tradition of lamb at table. That was not difficult for my mother to accommodate: her father was a rancher who raised sheep from time to time. In other words, lamb was a food that my parents easily shared through their more than half century of marriage. Interestingly, though the sausage stuffing was the same whether it was tucked into grape leaves, cabbage leaves, or vegetables, there was a name distinction: wrapped in leaves, the dish was called sarma, but stuffed into vegetables, it was dolma. Dolmas and sarma made with cabbage leaves were considered family fare, and they were a dinner staple in our household. Stuffed grape leaves, which require more time and earnest effort, were festive fare, so they were saved for family get-togethers or special birthday requests (mine in particular). For how to blanch and separate the leaves for making stuffed cabbage leaves, see page 151.

All right, Armenia can’t really be considered “Middle East,” but it is part of the botanically very important Trans-Causcasian region that begins in Iran. Botanically important because nearly all of our favorite stone fruits (cherries, peaches, apricots, etc.) had their beginnings in this region. This unusual soup combines the apricots of the region with lentils and vegetables. There are many variations and many ingredient possibilities, including bell peppers, tomatoes, mint, allspice, cinnamon, and paprika. In some versions, the lentils and vegetables are left whole; in others, they are puréed. Vary the soup to suit your taste.

Although there appear to be many recipes for the Armenian dish called khavits, most of which entail frying semolina or cracked wheat in butter before boiling it, the toppings are what hooked me when I had it for breakfast at an Armenian café in my town. You can crack your own wheat in a blender (see page 59), or use semolina, store-bought seven-grain cereal, or even Cream of Wheat. For added fiber, I usually include a couple of tablespoons of ground flaxseed in each serving.

This Armenian specialty makes a hearty main dish. It has a pure and fresh quality and is an entirely different experience from eating an Italian or Asian pasta dish.

Armenian dishes are humble and rustic. This one is a party dish which combines everyday ingredients in a complex way. The serving is something of a ritual.

A simple and delightful Armenian peasant soup.

This is a fantastic preparation for bone-in pork shoulder, which is loaded with flavor but needs braising to tenderize. A blend of ingredients commonly used in Eurasia's culinarily diverse Caucasus region (comprising Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan, and parts of Russia) brings together elements of heat, garlic, and spices like coriander and fenugreek.

Pairing chick-peas and Swiss chard is nothing new—Armenians have been doing it for generations. But with great tomatoes and a squeeze of lemon, this quick vegetable stew is as fresh as summer. If you can’t find Swiss chard, spinach is an authentic substitute.

Gouvej Claire S. Kedeshian of New York, New York, writes: "I am Armenian-American, and I would love to share a recipe of mine with you and your readers. It's for a traditional vegetable stew that has been made by my family for over three generations."

An Armenian dish that's the perfect accompaniment to roast turkey, goose or ham. This version is dressed up for the holidays with golden saffron and studded with dried fruit and nuts.

Crispy on the outside, herby on the inside, these simple flatbreads are inspired by Armenian jingalov hats, which are just as delicious as they are fun to say.

Dry vermicelli is toasted in lots of butter to create extra nutty flavor and richness, a method used in pilaf traditions across communities.