Egyptian

You can serve these Egyptian fish balls as mezze or finger foods at a party. Use any white fish, such as cod, haddock, bream, whiting, or hake.

A favorite Egyptian flavoring is a mix of fried garlic and coriander. This dish is a specialty of Alexandria, where it is usually baked in a clay dish called a tagen (it is deeper than Moroccan tagines and with straight sides). You can make it with any white fish—steaks or fillets. Serve it with plain rice (page 338) or rice with vermicelli (page 340).

This makes an exciting cold first course or buffet dish. The fish is fried, then marinated in a beautifully flavored dressing. Make it at least an hour before you are ready to serve. You can use Mediterranean fish, such as bream, or any firm-fleshed fish, such as cod or haddock.

Here is a simple Egyptian omelet with a pleasant texture, to serve as a snack.

This is an Egyptian favorite.

Cardamom gives a delicate Arab touch to this substantial Egyptian omelet which can be served as a main dish.

This Egyptian feast-day soup which is eaten seventy days after Ramadan is made of the leftover meat and bones of a sacrificial lamb. It is the custom to slay a lamb in the name of God, and to distribute the meat among the poor. The family of the donor must eat some of the lamb in order to benefit from the sacrifice, and this soup is a good way of doing so.

This is one of my favorite soups from Egypt.

This soup is popular in Egypt, where sick and convalescing people are encouraged to eat it to regain their health. It is plain but delicate in flavor, and highly nutritious, made with the same large fava beans as ta’amia (page 61), sold without their skins (they are a pale cream without their brown skins).

This tangy, aromatic soup was a family favorite in Egypt. The strong taste of lemon is the main feature. It was usually served over rice.

With this fresh-tasting and aromatic Egyptian soup, it is best to cook the rice separately and add it just before serving, as it gets bloated and soft if it stands in the soup.

In Greece it is made whenever chickens are boiled. In Egypt we called it beid ab lamouna and shorba bel tarbeyah. The stock can be prepared in advance, but the rest must be done at the last minute.

Melokheya is Egypt’s most popular national dish. It is an ancient peasant soup which is believed to be portrayed in pharaonic tomb paintings. It seemed to us as children that the fellahin (peasants) wore the same clothes, used the same tools, and repeated the same movements as did the figures working the land in pharaonic tomb paintings. Every peasant, however poor, had a little patch of ground for his own use, and in summer this was reserved exclusively for the cultivation of the deep-green melokheya leaf (Corchorus olitorius—in English, Jew’s mallow). The women prepared the soup daily in large pots which they carried to the fields on their heads for the men to eat at midday. When the work was done and the men came home, they ate it again at dusk. For many years, when we were relatively new in England, the leaves were very hard to find, and we hankered desperately for the soup. Some relatives of mine in Milan tried to grow the plant (it looks a bit like spinach) in the garden of their apartment building. After weeks of effort—getting the seeds (the same seeds were found in pharaonic tombs), planting them, watering, nurturing, harvesting—they invited a group of compatriots to eat the soup. The triumphant cook was horrified to find that the leaves she thought she had so lovingly raised were only local weeds. The melokheya had failed to grow. Everybody from Egypt adores melokheya, which has a mucilaginous, glutinous quality imparted by the leaves. But be warned: it is an acquired taste. There are various ways of eating it in several stages, and each is something of a ritual. The soup may be eaten first with plain rice (that is how I like it—pure and simple), or with fried or toasted Arab bread; then with portions of the chicken or meat which was used for making the stock. Or you can serve it all together in many layers on the plate. In either case, it represents an entire meal. The layers may start with pieces of toasted bread at the bottom of the plate, but usually begin with rice, topped with a piece of chicken or meat, over which the soup is poured. Recently the Lebanese custom of sprinkling chopped onion steeped in vinegar on top has been adopted by some Egyptians. In Egypt they use chicken, rabbit, goose, duck, or meat stock to make the soup. Many years ago I was employed in England to make the soup using a famous brand of bouillon cube for a television advertisement. Years later, when I went back to Cairo for the first time, I spied it being shown on television in a crowded café between episodes of “Dallas.” You are not likely to find fresh melokheya, but dried and frozen varieties are available from Middle Eastern stores. The frozen one is best. A lot of garlic is used in a sauce called takleya which goes in at the end, but it does not seem like too much when you eat.

Lentil soup is an Egyptian favorite. You can buy it in the street from vendors. When I went back once during the fasting month of Ramadan, I was wandering through a long market street and stopped in a tiny café. There was only one table and I was the only customer, and all they had to offer was lentil soup. They must have been Copts. They served me in great style, offering me all kinds of extra garnishes—scallions, lemons, toasted pita croutons—rushing out to buy each one, after each new demand, from the stalls outside, then preparing them in front of me at the table. There is no harm in making the soup in advance—even a day before.

In Lebanon the turnovers with meat are the most prestigious, but we in Egypt always made cheese ones. No tea party was ever right without them. The recipe for the dough has been passed down in my family for generations as “1 coffee cup of oil, 1 coffee cup of melted butter, 1 coffee cup of warm water, 1 teaspoon of salt, and work in as much flour as it takes.” We baked the pies, but it was also common to fry them in oil.

Although shami means “Syrian,” this was a specialty of the Jews of Egypt. It has a strong taste of lemon and garlic. It should be made with a good, well-flavored chicken stock (see page 143). After the recipe was given to me thirty-five years ago, I never heard of it again until recently, when I was giving a lecture about Jewish food and a man complained bitterly that I had left it out of my Jewish book. So I feel obliged to leave it in here.

In Turkey and Egypt during the period of the Ottoman Empire, the women in the harems, the wives and concubines of the Sultans and aristocracy, were the widows and daughters captured at war. The Circassians among them were known for their beauty and their culinary skills. This classic is part of their legacy. The recipe was given by Luli Fevsi and comes from the kitchens of the old Ottoman aristocracy in Egypt. It is a cold dish which may be served as an hors d’oeuvre or as part of a buffet table.

Megadarra is immensely popular in Egypt, as it is all over the Arab world (elsewhere it is pronounced mujadra and sometimes called mudardara). It is a modern version of a medieval dish called mujadarra, described by al-Baghdadi (see appendix) as a dish of the poor, and still referred to as Esau’s favorite. In fact, it is such a favorite that, although it is said to be for misers, it is a compliment to serve it. An aunt of mine used to present it regularly to guests with the comment “Excuse the food of the poor!”—to which the unanimous reply always was: “Keep your food of kings and give us megadarra every day!” The proportions of lentils and rice vary with every family. Large quantities of dark, caramelized onions are the best part. It is served either warm or cold, as a mezze or as part of a light meal, usually accompanied by yogurt.

Every country in the Middle East has a roast-pepper-and-tomato combination. This is an Egyptian one.

Tomatoes are banadoura in Arabic and tamatem in Egypt.