Tag Archives: vegetarian

Omelette ux fines herbes
breakfast/brunch, fall, french cuisine, summer, vegetarian

Using Up Herb Plants: Omelette aux Fines Herbes (with basic recipe)

Omelette ux fines herbes
High cuisine, not a simple attempt to use things up before going out of town for Thanksgiving

            Every fall, I bring my potted herb plants in from outside to enjoy using them for a bit longer. It works well enough for a while, but eventually they start to suffer from the limited sunshine. Since most of them are annuals, the time comes to use up what I can before starting again when summer returns. Everything except the rosemary is either done or fading. To use up as much as possible, I made a French classic, omelette aux fines herbes.

            Fines herbes is a mix of parsley, chives, tarragon, and chervil, common in French cuisine. The first three are widely available in the US, but chervil might require a specialty spice store or the internet. Supposedly it tastes like a milder parsley with a bit of a licorice undertone, but I couldn’t taste much difference. To compensate for all the herbs except parsley being dried, I also added some minced scallions to brighten things up.

            For many French chefs, making a perfect omelet is one of the primary tests of skill. After following the basic directions on pages 107 – 108 of 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die, mine turned out pretty well. The flavor is distinctly understated, but the freshness from the herbs was nice as fall turns to winter. The slight licorice flavor from either the tarragon or chervil is definitely there. Perhaps it just needs a little heat to release its flavor. Chefs disagree on how much browning, if any, is ideal. Personally, I like more browning, both for flavor and the fact that it helps the egg unstick itself from the pan.

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            For each omelet, I used three eggs, beaten together with salt, pepper, and a tablespoon of milk. The herb mix contained three large parsley sprigs, minced, one minced scallion, and a teaspoon each dried chives, tarragon, and chervil. Half of the herb mixture gets added into the eggs before cooking. After melting about a tablespoon butter in a skillet over medium heat, the egg mixture is added to cook.

            To make sure that none of the eggs end up runny, I like to tilt the pan and lift up the edges of the cooked portion, letting the uncooked egg flow underneath. After this, sprinkle the remaining herb mixture over the surface. When the top is almost set, fold the right and left thirds of the omelet over onto the center. If this doesn’t work and you end up with a half-moon shaped omelet, don’t worry about it, it will still taste good. Let the omelet cook for another minute, covering the pan if desired to help it set, then slide it onto a plate.

            To make this simple mix of eggs and herbs sound extra fancy, serve with pommes de terre frits, compote de pomme, fruits frais, café au lait, or any combination thereof. In English, these are fried potatoes, applesauce, fresh fruit, and coffee with milk. To make anything sound fancy, say it in French, even if you have to use a translation app.

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Aubergine en caton
appetizers, french cuisine, recipes, summer, vegetarian

French Baba Ghanoush: Aubergine en Caton

Aubergine en caton

            By European standards, France is a large country. As with any nation with varied terrain and climate, it has a number of regional specialties. There are the dairy-heavy cuisines of Normandy and Brittany, Germanic-inspired dishes of Alsace in the northeast, and wine-based sauces and stews from the wine-growing regions of Burgundy and Bordeaux. And in the south, along the Mediterranean, is Provence, where many dishes resemble those from neighboring Liguria in Italy.

            Provence is one of the few French regions where olive trees can produce fruit. The oil is ubiquitous, including in a sauce for roasted eggplant. Other Mediterranean flavors come from lemon juice, capers, and a bit of anchovy. Before you get grossed out, it’s just a small amount of paste used as a flavor booster, not enough to make it taste “fishy.” All these other flavors, which are rather strong on their own, plus garlic and plenty of fresh parsley, balance it out.

            Aubergine is the French word for eggplant. Here it is cooked and pureed just like in baba ghanoush, except in the oven instead of over a wood fire, producing a lighter color and mild, slightly sweet flavor. Rather than mixed into the puree, the sauce is served over the top, for a greater contrast.

            As Mimi Sheraton suggested in 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die on page 54, a simple description is sufficient to compose a recipe, at least for the sauce. It was the eggplant itself that gave me trouble. When cooking whole, which is necessary to keep the pulp a greenish color instead of browning, it takes a surprisingly long time to soften. At 400 degrees Fahrenheit (or just under 205 degrees Celsius), it took nearly an hour. Since it was a cool day that was fine, but on a hot summer day that would never be an option. Plus, using the oven for that long for one fairly small item doesn’t seem energy efficient.

            I considered ways to “pre-cook” the eggplant before finishing it off in the oven. After poking holes all over (to release steam and avoid an explosion), boiling or steaming would probably introduce too much water. But what about the microwave? They work by making water molecules move faster, creating friction and raising the temperature. And since the rays pass through the food, the center warms up much faster than with other cooking methods.

            For a vegetable like eggplant, which has a high water content, this worked like a charm. To avoid an explosion and mess, I poked the holes all the way through with the pointy end of a meat thermometer, giving plenty of openings for steam to escape. Just heat on a microwave safe plate, turn every two minutes, and be careful when handling. The eggplant steams inside the skin, creating the perfect silky texture with just the right amount of moisture.

            As it turned out, the oven wasn’t even required, making this interesting dish perfect for a hot day. When the eggplant is cool enough to handle, just cut in half, scoop out the pulp, puree it, and serve warm or at room temperature with the sauce. Accompany with bread, crackers, or crunchy vegetables.

            The sauce recipe is easy to double and can be kept in the refrigerator for several days. Don’t worry if the oil solidifies; it will turn liquid again as it warms up. This is common for vinaigrette-type dressings and sauces. Just get them out of the fridge half an hour to an hour or so before using, and they’ll be fine.

Ingredients:

  • 1 large eggplant, about 2 pounds
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • Juice from ½ lemon
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 2 tablespoons capers, minced
  • ¼ teaspoon anchovy paste
  • ½ bunch parsley, minced
  • Salt to taste

Directions:

  1. Combine all ingredients except eggplant, parsley, and salt in a bowl and whisk to dissolve anchovy paste and combine.
  2. Whisk in the parsley and taste for salt. The anchovy paste and capers are both salty, so you might not need it.
  3. Set sauce aside at room temperature, or refrigerate overnight. Bring to room temperature before serving.
  4. Poke holes all over the eggplant, all the way through. Place on a microwave-safe plate and cover with a paper towel. Microwave on high for 8 to 10 minutes, turning every 2 minutes, until a skewer slides easily into the flesh. Let rest until cool enough to handle.
  5. Cut eggplant in half and scoop flesh into bowl of a food processor. Process until smooth.
  6. Scoop eggplant puree onto a plate, spoon sauce over, and serve with bread, raw vegetables, and/or crackers.

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Risotto verde
food history, italian cuisine, recipes, rice, spring, vegetarian

Risotto Verde: The Taste of Spring

Risotto verde

            Among the numerous varieties of risotto, there are a few classics, as detailed in 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die on pages 233 – 234. Risotto bianco is the basic kind, made simply with rice, butter, a little onion or shallot, white wine, broth, parmesan cheese, and maybe some pancetta or bacon. Milanese is colored a bright golden yellow with saffron. Nero is colored black with squid ink. Piedmontese is enhanced with white truffles. Other varieties might include seafood, mushrooms, or vegetables.

            As you can probably guess, risotto verde is meant to be green. Frequently a spring specialty, it gets its color from parsley and either sweet green peas or asparagus. It’s very fresh-tasting and, when made with frozen peas, surprisingly quick and easy to prepare. To keep everything bright and fresh, I didn’t use any pancetta for my own recipe.

            Technically, you’re not “supposed” to reheat risotto, because it thickens upon standing and can become “gluey.” I’ve never had this problem, or maybe the texture upon reheating just doesn’t bother me. Just add a few drops of water before putting it in the microwave. It will still be a great accompaniment to your chicken sandwich for lunch, and it’s way healthier than chips.

Ingredients:

  • 4 tablespoons (or ¼ cup) butter, or 2 tablespoons each butter and olive oil
  • 1 shallot or ¼ onion, minced
  • 1 ½ cups arborio or other short-grain rice
  • 4 tablespoons (or ¼ cup) dry white wine (something light like pinot grigio), or replace with extra broth
  • 4 – 5 cups chicken or vegetable broth (broth made from poaching chicken works great here)
  • 1 10-ounce bag frozen peas
  • Half bunch parsley, large stems removed, minced
  • 1 cup grated parmesan cheese

Directions:

  1. Combine the broth and peas in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Turn off heat, but leave on the stove.
  2. Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. When bubbling, add shallot or onion and sauté for about 2 minutes, until softened.
  3. Add the rice and cook, stirring constantly, until coated and translucent, about 2 minutes.
  4. Stir in the wine and cook, stirring constantly, until evaporated, another 2 or 3 minutes.
  5. Add the broth and peas, a ladleful at a time, stirring constantly, waiting for each to absorb before adding the next. Stir in the parsley about halfway through, saving a little to sprinkle on top at serving time.
  6. After adding 4 cups of broth, the risotto should be slightly liquid. If it seems too thick, add a little more broth.
  7. Remove from the heat, stir in the parmesan, sprinkle with remaining parsley, and serve immediately.

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Eggplant Timbale
food history, italian cuisine, pasta, vegetarian

Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 84 (Pgs. 264 – 265): Timbale of Eggplant and Pasta

Eggplant Timbale

Region: South Mainland/Islands (Sicily)

            As far as I can tell, the plain English definition of timbale is “food, encased in a different type of food, cooked in a mold, then turned out onto a platter to serve.” Timbales, or timballos in Italian, are popular in Sicily, probably originating in the kitchens of wealthy aristocrats. Elaborate versions might include a pastry crust, or rice molded precariously around a complex filling of meats, cheeses, vegetables, and eggs.

            The recipe here is much simpler, a mix of pasta, tomato sauce, cheese, and eggs, stuffed into an eggplant “shell.” There are two time-consuming steps, preparing the eggplant (slicing super thin, salting, and broiling) and making the homemade tomato sauce, but both can be done ahead of time. In fact, it isn’t a bad idea to make extra sauce, set aside what’s needed for the timbale, and have the rest with meatballs (and the gnocchi you made to clear the semolina flour out of the pantry). It’s also helpful to grate the cheese a day ahead. (And make the hard-boiled eggs the recipe calls for but I omitted.)

            If all of this is done, this fancy-looking timbale is actually feasible for a weeknight. While the water boils and the pasta cooks, you can butter the baking dish, line it with overlapping eggplant slices, and warm the tomato sauce. Then it’s just a matter of mixing the filling, packing it into the mold, covering it with more eggplant slices, and baking.

Eggplant timbale lining the dish
How the dish is lined
Eggplant timbale ready for the oven
Ready for the oven

            Just look how pretty the end result is. It didn’t fall apart when unmolded, and tasted as good as it looked. The timbale isn’t necessarily for every day, but it was easier than I expected and would no doubt be a great way to show off for guests. Just beware that the slices aren’t as pretty as the whole.

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french cuisine, recipes, vegetarian

French Meze/Tapa: Green Lentil Salad

            Lentils are an excellent source of plant-based protein and full of vitamins. Besides soup, some varieties make excellent salads. Green lentils are particularly good for this, since they hold their shape the best. Common brown lentils will also work. Yellow or red lentils fall apart when cooked, and are better in dal or as a thickener for curries.

            Green lentils are most associated with France, where a particularly fine variety grows in the volcanic soil of the south-central Auvergne region. In 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die, Mimi Sheraton suggests trying the authentic lentilles de puy. These are dark green, speckled, and smaller than regular lentils. The genuine article is rather pricey, but I found French-style green lentils at Woodman’s and decided to give them a try.

            They were amazing. Somehow, the green lentils tasted vaguely like sausage, peppery with a suggestion of sage, even though none of those ingredients were present. Naturally, they would make an excellent vegetarian main course. Not only are they delicious, but I was able to make a few salads with multiple servings in each from one affordable bag.

            The bag had a recipe for French-style warm lentil salad, which I’m sure would be great during the winter with mashed potatoes and/or a pork chop. For summer meze, I created my own simple recipe, dressed with vinegar and oil and flavored with onions. It can be enjoyed warm, room temperature, or cold.

            If you can’t find green French-style lentils by the dried beans and peas, look in the health food section. Bob’s Red Mill is the most common brand, and is what I used. They also carry specialty grains like bulgur, buckwheat, rice flour, and so on.

            Ingredients:

  • 1 cup green lentils
  • 2 bay leaves
  • ¼ red onion, thinly sliced
  • ¼ cup olive oil
  • 2 tbsp red or white wine vinegar
  • Salt and pepper to taste

            Directions:

  1. Cook and drain the lentils according to package directions, adding a pinch of salt and the bay leaves to the water. Cool slightly.
  2. Toss the cooked lentils with the onion, oil, and vinegar. Taste for salt, and add pepper if desired.
  3. Let rest for at least an hour before serving for flavors to meld.

Next time, I’ll post another meze recipe, for chicken with walnut sauce.

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Tarator - Balkan cucumber walnut dip or soup
food history, recipes, summer, vegetarian

Walnuts, Two Ways, Version 1: Tarator (Balkan walnut/cucumber soup)

Tarator, a cucumber-walnut “soup” from the Balkans

            The Balkans, or the southeastern corner of Europe south of the Danube and west of the Black Sea, has a fascinating and often tumultuous history. Fertile valleys and plains, broken up by various hills and mountains, were home to numerous ancient civilizations – Greeks, Illyrians, Dacians, Scythians, and Sarmatians. The Persian Achaemenids tried to expand their empire here just before and after 500 BC. During the 3rd Century BC, there was even a brief Celtic incursion.

            The Romans were the first outside power to conquer and hold the Balkans. From the 2nd Century BC to the 5th Century AD, they both absorbed and influenced local cultures. Wealthy Romans were fascinated by Greek civilization, and many of the non-Greeks began to speak Latin. Anyone who spoke Latin or Greek and adopted Greco-Roman customs (which fused together somewhat during this time) could become a citizen, and many of the local people did. During the later Roman Empire, two of the most influential emperors, Diocletian and Constantine the Great, came from the Balkans, probably around modern-day Serbia.

            From the 3rd Century AD onward, new waves of invaders entered the Balkans. The first were the Germanic Goths, who were eventually pushed back, but not before killing Emperor Decius in battle in 251 (Decius was also from the region, by the way). After abandoning the province of Dacia in modern-day Romania, the Romans secured the Danube frontier for another century, when various Germanic confederations pushed into the Balkans again, fleeing from the Huns. The Goths were back, accompanied by the Vandals and others.

            What happened next was complicated, but basically went as follows. The leader of the Goths, named Fritigern, asked the Romans if his people could settle in the Empire in exchange for military service. The Romans, facing manpower shortages, agreed, but then broke their word and mistreated the Goths, which led them to revolt. After they killed another emperor, named Valens, in battle in 378, the Romans eventually honored their agreement. Over the next decades, Germanic troops made up more and more of the army.

            After the Empire was divided for good in 395 AD, most of the Balkans became part of the Eastern Roman Empire. Through a combination of better leadership, greater wealth, and a shorter frontier, the Eastern Empire was able to force/bribe the Germanic groups to leave. These Goths, Vandals, etc. then headed west and dismantled the Western Roman Empire. After the Eastern Empire teamed up with the Western Empire and the Goths against the Huns in the 450s, the last “barbarian” group in the Balkans was the Ostrogoths, or Eastern Goths. The emperors sponsored sending them to Italy in the 490s to drive out the Visigoths, or Western Goths, and no Germanic confederations tried to invade the Balkans again. But that did not mean the region was safe, as I will explain in the next post.

            With so many diverse cultures coming and going, along with a favorable climate with plenty of sunshine and rain, the food in the Balkans became just as diverse. Records indicate that the Dacians grew wine grapes. The Romans, who valued fresh produce, either introduced or improved a variety of fruits and vegetables. They were known to enjoy cucumbers, which make up the base of tarator.

            In 1,000 Foods to Eat Before You Die on page 381, Mimi Sheraton suggests 3 ways to prepare walnuts, which have grown in the Balkans for millennia. One of those methods is an egg salad called aselila. Even with a walnut-based dressing replacing mayonnaise, the hard-boiled eggs are a non-starter for me. The walnut and cucumber mix sounds a little like tzatziki sauce, with cucumbers, yogurt, garlic, and dill. It is finished with a bit of sunflower oil and chopped walnuts. The whole idea seems a bit odd as a soup, but pretty good as a dip, so I made my recipe thicker.

            Preparation is simple. There are two tricks to get the best results. First, toss the diced or grated cucumbers with salt and let drain for an hour to remove excess moisture that might otherwise make the dip watery. Second, the garlic needs to be crushed with salt, but there is not enough of it to do so in a food processor. A mortar and pestle work best. Once this is done, combine with the yogurt and dill and let sit until the cucumbers are finished draining, so the flavors can infuse.

            Ingredients:

  • 2 large or 4 small cucumbers, peeled, seeded, and diced or grated (I like diced for more texture)
  • 1 ¼ teaspoons coarse salt
  • 2 garlic cloves, peeled, crushed with the side of a knife, and coarsely chopped
  • 1 cup whole milk plain yogurt (doesn’t have to be Greek yogurt, just make sure not to use low-fat or fat-free)
  • A few sprigs dill, minced after removing any tough stems, or ½ teaspoon dried
  • Sunflower oil, to drizzle
  • Coarsely chopped walnuts, to garnish

            Directions:

  1. Toss the cucumbers with one teaspoon of the salt and place in a colander to drain for an hour.
  2. Place the garlic and remaining salt in the bowl of a mortar. Work with the pestle until a sticky, mostly smooth paste forms. A few lumps of garlic are fine.
  3. Combine the yogurt, garlic paste, and dill in a bowl and allow to sit until the cucumbers are finished draining. Add the cucumbers to the yogurt mixture and discard the liquid.
  4. Place the cucumber-yogurt mixture in a serving bowl. Drizzle with the sunflower oil and sprinkle liberally with the chopped walnuts.
  5. Serve the dip with pitas, other bread, or crackers.

            Tarator seems odd as a soup, but as a dip, it’s fantastic. It sort of tastes like non-sour dill pickles, but creamy. Considering that tarator uses the same flavorings of salt, garlic, and dill, it makes perfect sense. The yogurt, sunflower oil, and chopped walnuts make it more substantial, so it could almost be a hot-weather meal on its own with pitas.

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food history, french cuisine, recipes, stew, vegetarian

Ratatouille + Recipe

Ratatouille, not made by rats

            Let’s revisit another late summer dish I made last year. Ratatouille, a rustic vegetable stew hailing from the same region of Southern France as soupe au pistou, is even easier to make. Mimi Sheraton describes it as one of 1,000 Foods to Eat Before You Die in the book of the same name. Unlike some of the foods in the book, no travel or specially ordered ingredients are required. It’s just vegetables commonly available at the store or farmer’s market, served with bread, pasta, or alongside meat, if desired.

            Many of the same ingredients, like eggplant, zucchini, tomatoes, garlic, and olive oil, are combined in similar ways all around the Mediterranean. One example is the Sicilian caponata, which also includes capers, vinegar, and typically celery. But you don’t have to be anywhere near the Mediterranean to enjoy ratatouille. Just make sure to make it in the summer, when the vegetables are at their best (and most affordable).

            Note that ratatouille can be baked in the oven, and many recipes use that method. I prefer the stovetop because it heats the kitchen less. Like most stews, ratatouille reheats very well, and leftovers make a great omelet filling.

            Ingredients:

  • 1 medium eggplant, cut into 1-inch cubes, tossed with 1 teaspoon salt, and left to sit for half an hour
  • 2 medium zucchini, sliced into roughly half-inch thick rounds
  • 1 green bell pepper, coarsely chopped
  • 1 yellow onion, coarsely chopped
  • 4 Roma tomatoes, coarsely chopped
  • 6 cloves garlic, peeled, crushed with the edge of a knife, and minced
  • ½ cup olive oil
  • 4 sprigs parsley, thick stems minced separately from leaves
  • 4 fresh basil leaves or more to taste, left whole until needed

            Directions:

  1. Combine the eggplant, zucchini, bell pepper, onion, tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, and minced parsley stems in a large pot with 2 tablespoons water.
  2. Bring to a simmer over medium low heat, then cook, stirring occasionally, for about 30 to 35 minutes.
  3. Mince the basil and add to the pot with the parsley leaves. Taste for salt, adding more if necessary, then simmer for 10 more minutes.
  4. Serve the ratatouille with bread, pasta, grilled meat, or all of the above. Sprinkle with additional parsley if desired.

            Eating the ratatouille while watching the movie of the same name is encouraged. It isn’t weird, I promise. For more recipes, subscribe below for free. And if you’re feeling extra generous and would like to support my work, I would be most grateful.

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food history, french cuisine, recipes, soup, stew, vegetarian

French Summer Vegetable Soup: Soupe au Pistou

Soupe au pistou, a southern French classic

            Last summer, in my exploration of 1000 Foods to Eat Before You Die by Mimi Sheraton, I made my own version of soupe au pistou, a southern French soup loaded with summer vegetables, and loved it. Now that it’s August and vegetables are at their peak, I made it again and recorded my recipe. Southern France is quite different from Paris, Normandy, Brittany, and the other northern regions, in climate, culture, and food. If a trip isn’t in the cards for the near future, some of the local cuisine will help us both imagine it. Maybe it will happen someday, but for now, think of rolling hills, olive trees, and enjoy the lack of crowds.

            Note that you can switch up the vegetables depending on what you like or have on hand. Just make sure to include tomatoes, onions, potatoes, white and green beans, pasta, and of course the pistou. Beyond that, feel free to add a sprinkle of cheese, or switch out the angel hair for other pasta, adjusting cooking time accordingly.

            Ingredients:

  • 8 ounces (about 1 ½ cups) navy or other small white beans, soaked and drained according to package directions
  • 1 onion, quartered and thinly sliced
  • 8 tablespoons (equal to ½ cup) olive oil
  • 2 Roma tomatoes, coarsely chopped
  • Salt
  • 6 small red or other waxy potatoes, cut into roughly ½ inch cubes
  • 2 carrots, sliced crosswise with the larger pieces cut in half
  • 2 zucchini, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced
  • 4 ounces green beans, cut into roughly 2-inch pieces
  • 4 ounces angel hair pasta, broken into roughly 2-inch pieces
  • 4 large cloves garlic, peeled and crushed with the side of a knife blade
  • 80 fresh basil leaves, about 2 cups loose
  • Grated parmesan cheese, if desired
  • Sprig of parsley, if desired

            Directions:

  1. Heat the olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. When hot, add the navy beans, onion, and a pinch of salt and sauté until the onions take on some color, stirring occasionally.
  2. Add the tomatoes and cook, stirring a few times, until they begin to break down.
  3. Add just enough water to cover the beans and vegetables and bring to a boil, then reduce heat to simmer. Cook with the lid tilted for 30 minutes, adding more water if necessary.
  4. Add the potatoes, carrots, another pinch of salt, and more water to cover the new additions. Simmer for another 30 minutes.
  5. For the pistou, combine the basil, garlic, ½ teaspoon salt, the remaining 4 tablespoons of olive oil, and, if desired, a bit of parmesan and a sprig of parsley, in a food processor and blend until smooth. It won’t look like a large amount, but a little goes a long way.
  6. Test the white beans. If they are soft, add the zucchini and green beans and taste for salt, adding more if necessary.
  7. Increase the heat to medium and cook for 5 minutes, add the angel hair, and cook for another 3 minutes. Serve the soup with the pistou and optional cheese.

            For more seasonal, global, and historical recipes, make sure to subscribe for free. Of course, if you want to donate and buy me some virtual vegetables, I’m not about to complain.

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egyptian cuisine, food history, recipes, stew, vegetarian

Egyptian “Tacos”: Ful Medames (fava bean stew)

1000 Foods (pgs. 708 – 709) for information, recipe is my own creation

            There’s no liver or chianti with these fava beans. To be honest, neither sounds appealing. The purpose of the liver is to filter toxins from the body, and supposedly chianti is a fairly dry wine. But fava beans on their own sound much better. Historically, most people across the Mediterranean and Middle East ate a largely vegetarian diet by necessity. Beans of all sorts provided essential protein and vitamins, which brings to mind an interesting story. Supposedly, the Ancient Greek mathematician Pythagoras hated beans but advocated a vegetarian diet. Balanced nutrition would still be possible if eggs and dairy were allowed, but Pythagoras definitely made things more difficult for himself.

            Supposedly, he even thought that beans were evil. Crazy as that probably sounds, there might have been a logical (okay, semi-logical) explanation. A small percentage of people don’t produce a particular enzyme that breaks down a chemical naturally occurring in fava beans. If someone with this gene does eat them, they become ill. Since this gene is most common in people living near the Mediterranean, Pythagoras likely knew a few people who suffered from it. It’s unclear why he decided that other types of beans were also evil, but maybe it was just a phobia. At a time and place where legumes were an essential source of protein, it would have been an unfortunate one.

            Fava beans, also called broad beans, have a long history in Egypt as a staple food, especially for the poor. Sometimes, when prices were high, the government would even subsidize them to ensure they remained affordable. Ful medames, a basic fava bean “porridge,” is often eaten for breakfast with a variety of toppings. The beans can be enhanced with butter, oil, onions, boiled eggs, and/or herbs, depending on what’s available and affordable. It seems like a strange choice for breakfast, but the protein helps keep you full until lunchtime. Some bread provides carbs for balance, as well as a vehicle for soaking up the juice. Pitas are the traditional choice.

            The beans, flavored with garlic and cumin and cooked until partially broken down, come to resemble refried beans. Combined with pita bread and assorted toppings, they bear a distinct resemblance to vegetarian tacos in a way, hence the description. While it’s a bit messy and time-consuming for breakfast, ful medames make a great vegetarian lunch or dinner, filling but fresh. And it’s customizable. Each person can add the toppings they wish.

            Ingredients:

  • 1 large can (about 30 ounces) fava beans, drained and rinsed
  • Water or broth
  • 2 cloves garlic, crushed and minced
  • ½ teaspoon cumin
  • Pinch hot pepper flakes, to taste
  • Salt and pepper to taste
  • Bread for serving (especially pitas, lightly warmed in oven with olive oil and salt)

Toppings (optional):

  • Flaxseed, olive, or untoasted sesame oil, or butter
  • Chopped parsley and/or cilantro
  • Minced onions, raw or sauteed, or scallions
  • Lemon juice
  • Plain yogurt
  • Vegetables (I used radishes and cucumbers), chopped, with vinegar and lemon juice to cover and a pinch of salt, and marinated in refrigerator for a few hours
  • Chopped hard-boiled eggs (I do not like them, but they are a common accompaniment, so enjoy (?) if desired)

            Directions:

  1. Place drained beans, garlic, cumin, and hot pepper flakes in a small to medium saucepan. Add enough water or broth to cover, about 1 ½ cups.
  2. Bring to a soft boil over medium heat, then reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally and gently breaking up the beans.
  3. When the beans have the texture of refried beans, remove from heat and serve in bowls. Pass desired toppings and plenty of bread.
  4. This recipe makes two good-sized servings, but is easy to multiply for larger groups. Make sure to have at least one pita per person.

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egyptian cuisine, food history, recipes, vegetarian

Egyptian Rice and Beans: Kosheri

1000 Foods (pg. 711) for information, recipe is my own creation

            Kosheri or Kushari has nothing to do with kosher rules, but the Israelites may well have eaten an early variant in Egypt. Their Egyptian neighbors may have been eating it over a thousand years earlier, in the 3rd Millennium BC. Records indicate that wheat, barley, lentils, garlic, and onions were cooked together in clay pots for a combination of starch and protein. Ancient Egyptians may have added flavorings like butter, fat, or vinegar to make things more interesting, depending on what they could afford. At a time and place when most people ate little meat, the lentils were an essential source of protein.

            Even today, the starch/lentil combination is common in Egypt, particularly among those with less disposable income. Kosheri is a popular street food, often eaten for lunch. Rice, introduced at some point in the early centuries AD, is now the grain, pasta is added, sometimes browned in butter, and spicy tomato sauce is an essential flavoring. Interestingly, even though hot peppers didn’t really catch on in most of Europe when they were introduced from the Americas, Africans and Asians adopted them quickly and in much greater quantities. And presumably, early modern Egyptians found that tomatoes thrived in the sun and rich soil by the Nile.

            To make kosheri, there are four elements needed: the rice/lentil mixture, tomato sauce flavored with garlic, vinegar, and hot pepper, onions browned in butter, and broken vermicelli (angel hair pasta), also browned in butter. Mimi Sheraton suggested that mastic was an essential flavoring so I tried it, but personally I think the kosheri is better without. It’s a balanced and flavorful vegetarian dish, and if the butter is replaced with oil, could even be made vegan.

            Here’s the recipe I developed. You need:

  • 2 cups long-grain rice
  • 1 cup lentils (I used the yellow variety, but other kinds would work)
  • Pinch mastic (optional, has a bit of a piney flavor)
  • Pinch salt
  • 1 tablespoon canola or vegetable oil
  • 6 cloves garlic, crushed and minced
  • ¼ cup vinegar (any kind but balsamic, which is too sweet)
  • 1 can crushed tomatoes, about 16 ounces
  • 1 yellow onion, peeled and thinly sliced
  • 4 tablespoons butter
  • 4 ounces vermicelli, broken into roughly 1-inch pieces

            To make it:

  1. For the sauce, heat the oil in a saucepan. When hot, add the garlic and cook until it starts to brown. Then add the vinegar and scrape the bottom of the pan.
  2. Stir in the crushed tomatoes, and leave sauce to simmer, stirring occasionally, while you prepare the rest of the ingredients.
  3. If using the mastic, grind it with a pinch of salt to reduce sticking.
  4. Bring 4 cups water to a boil, then add the lentils, salt, and optional mastic, partially cover the pot, and cook for 15 minutes.
  5. Add the rice and another cup of water, fully cover the pot, and cook another 15 minutes.
  6. Melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the vermicelli and cook, stirring frequently, until the pasta browns. Empty the pasta onto a plate, but don’t wipe out the pan.
  7. Add the rest of the butter. When it’s melted, add the onions and cook, stirring frequently, until browned and reduced in volume.
  8. To serve the kosheri, add a portion of the rice/lentil mixture to each plate. Top with tomato sauce, sauteed onions, and browned vermicelli to taste.

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