Pumpkin Rice-Stuffed Lamb Roast

When Armenians say meat, they really mean lamb, and I can hardly think of a gathering of Armenians beyond my immediate family that hasn’t include at least one type of lamb dish. So when I was invited to participate in the inaugural Lamb Pro-Am, sponsored by the American Lamb Board and BostonChefs, I knew I would make an Armenian-inspired dish almost as quickly as I knew I would participate.

I was surprised at how fast I came up with a recipe for this challenge. We (me and 9 other Boston-area bloggers) were tasked with cooking a boneless leg, which ruled out any stew-like dish because there are better cuts for that. Immediately I thought of shish kebab – skewers of lamb (usually leg), marinated and grilled. But it was too simple (not to mention that Fall seems to have finally settled upon us with drizzly day after drizzly day). And then I remembered an often-talked-about dish that my grandmother used to make, and I KNEW.

My father’s mother passed away when I was very young, so I never got to experience her cooking, although my life has been filled with stories about her ruling over her kitchen. I spent a weekend this past summer with my horkur (Armenian for aunt, more specifically father’s sister), and after we baked treats that she remembered from her childhood, she gave me a copy of a cookbook she had written, which included many of her mother’s recipes.

One recipe jumped out at me. It consists of rice and pumpkin and onion and raisins, and that’s pretty much it. I had wanted to try it since hearing about it years before, and I knew that my other grandmother had made a similar dish, so it couldn’t be bad if both sides of my family had their own versions. But instead of just serving the pumpkin rice alongside the lamb, I decided to fill the lamb with it.

The rice was surprisingly quick and easy to put together. The only hardship is the chopping of the pumpkin and the onions. I know 3 onions sounds like a lot, but light a candle and get chopping – you really do need 3 onions. Trust me. And because I was planning on putting the rice inside the lamb, I diced the pumpkin up into small cubes; if you serve it just as a side dish, you can cut bigger cubes. Use any kind of pumpkin or winter squash you’d like (I used my favorite, buttercup squash). This can be made a day ahead if need be.

Pumpkin Rice

¼ cup olive oil

3 onions, minced

¾ cup rice

½ cup raisins

2 tsp salt

2 Tbsp sugar

2 cups water

2-pound squash, inside cleaned out, and diced

In a large pan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add onions and cook until translucent, stirring often. Add rice, raisins, salt, and sugar, and stir to combine. Push mixture to one side of pan and lay down about a quarter of the diced pumpkin; move rice over the pumpkin and lay down another quarter on the other half of the pan. Even the rice out, then top with the remaining pumpkin. Add water, cover, and reduce heat to low. Let cook until rice and pumpkin are cooked through and tender, about half an hour. Stir together before using or serving.

Now, I’m no butcher. Butchers are trained and know what they’re doing with a cut of meat. Me, I just kind of hack at meat until it looks good enough. I lamely attempted to butterfly my leg of lamb, making sure to cut out the silverskin to ensure a tender roast. I definitely could have done a better job, but I also didn’t ruin the meat (whew!). If you give this recipe a shot (and don’t know what you’re doing, much like me), ask your butcher to butterfly the leg for you. You’ll be much happier.

Once the leg is butterflied, lay it meat side up (fat side down), sprinkle with a little salt, and lay some of the rice mixture evenly over it. There will be plenty of rice left – save it to serve with the meat later. Roll the meat up, trying not to squeeze out all the filling as you go, and tie it together to keep its shape (I found this video helpful, although it was more of a two-person job for me). Place it fat side up in a roasting pan and cook in a 350° oven until a thermometer inserted into the meat (make sure you avoid the rice filling!) reads 150°. Remove from oven, cover with foil, and let stand 10-15 minutes before cutting and serving. Reheat the rest of the rice to serve alongside – the pumpkin will mush a bit as you stir, making it appear more orange than it had before. The rice inside is a bit meaty and has imparted much of its sweetness to the meat, while the rest of the rice has a more pronounced pumpkin flavor, so it almost seems like two different rice dishes.

The rice got plenty of approval from my parents, who said it tasted just like they remembered, and the three of us devoured more lamb than we thought possible. Hopefully my grandmother would have approved as well.

Many thanks to the American Lamb Board and Boston Chefs, who provided me with this wonderful cut of meat. Please take a moment to vote for me here - the top four bloggers move on to the next round!

Za'atar-Crusted Chicken with Pomegranate Tabouli

A few months ago, I heard the rumbling about a new site that would pair food bloggers with products in order to create unique recipes. Little did I know that I would be joining in the fun that is Kitchen Play so soon!

I was sent a link to MySpiceSage.com, this month's sponsor, with the instructions that I was to pick out something to use for an entree. Immediately, my mind was racing. With an entire spice store at my fingertips, how was I to narrow down my recipes? I wasn't sure what to do, so in the end, I just picked a wild (and not often used) spice, za'atar, figuring it could use a little love, and started brainstorming.

Za'atar is a blend of dried herbs (MySpiceSage.com uses thyme), sesame seeds, and salt. There are as many variations on this blend as there are cooks who use it (and can include oregano, marjoram, sumac, savory, cumin, coriander, fennel, or caraway), but those three ingredients are what makes za'atar za'atar. I opted to add some sumac to my mix to give it a lighter, fruitier flavor. Of course, if you like the base flavor of the spice mix, the real fun comes in blending your own to get exactly the flavors you like.

When it came to actually using the za'atar, though, I was a little stumped. The only place I've ever seen it used was on bread, much like foccacia, at my local Armenian grocery store - definitely not something to make an entree out of. So I opted to stick with the Armenian flavors and pull out a little trick that my mother had used in my childhood.

Whenever my mother and I would go through the effort of making boreg (either sou boreg or the crispy version that is much like spanakopita triangles), there would inevitably be leftover cheese filling. Instead of just throwing it away, she would combine it with chicken and bake it up for dinner, like a nice little preview of the special-occasion appetizers we had slaved over all day. I don't know why I never thought to ask her just to make that for dinner without having to go through all the other cooking.

So here we are: crazy Middle Eastern spice + childhood memories = a dish that is perfect for any dinner party (or any dinner, really). I paired the chicken with a winter-y version of tabouli, incorporating pomegranate seeds, more sumac (which may be my new favorite spice after this challenge), and just a hint of spicy cayenne pepper (ok, I added more than just a hint to my final dish, but you don't have to go as far as me). The chicken reheats wonderfully, and the tabouli is almost better the second day, so don't worry about having leftovers around.

You can join in the fun of the Progressive Party and earn a chance to win $100 by recreating this and other recipes at home. Check out the contest page of Kitchen Play for more details.

Za'atar-Crusted Chicken
2 cups (about 8 ounces) shredded muenster cheese
1/2 cup cottage cheese
2 Tbsp chopped parsley
6 chicken breasts
1/2 cup za'atar
1/2 cup panko
1 Tbsp sumac
2 egg whites

Preheat oven to 350°. Coat a 13x9 glass baking dish with cooking spray and set aside. Combine shredded muenster cheese, cottage cheese, and parsley, stirring well to evenly distribute, and set aside.

Place one chicken breast between two sheets of wax paper and, using the flat end of a meat tenderizer, a rolling pin, or the flat bottom of a pan, pound the chicken until it is uniformly flat. Don't hit it too hard or the meat will tear. Place 1/6th of the cheese mixture in the center of the flattened chicken and pull the sides up around the cheese. Use toothpicks to secure the chicken closed. Repeat with the remaining chicken.

In a shallow bowl, combine za'atar, panko, and sumac. Dip chicken in egg white, then za'atar mixture, making sure to evenly cover all the sides. Place chicken in the prepared baking dish, seam-side down. Bake for 40 minutes. Make sure to remove the toothpicks before serving.

Pomegranate Tabouli
1 cup fine bulgur wheat
2 cups hot water
1 tsp salt
1 bunch parsley, finely chopped
1 Tbsp mint, finely chopped
1/4 cup lemon juice*
1/4 cup olive oil
1 tsp sumac
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper (or more to taste)
1/2 cup pomegranate seeds
salt and pepper

Place bulgur wheat in a large bowl and pour in water. Stir in salt and cover with a kitchen towel. After 30 minutes, drain off any excess water. Stir in parsley and mint. Whisk together lemon juice, olive oil, sumac, and cayenne and pour over the salad. Add pomegranate seeds and salt and pepper to taste; mix well to combine. Best served at room temperature.

*Microwave your lemon for about 10 seconds to get more juice out of it - 1/4 cup juice should be about one lemon.

Not Armenia

This is not the post I had hoped to be posting this week. I had hoped to tell you that I was off on a two-week trip to Armenia, my de facto homeland (although all my grandparents were from towns that are well into Turkey). I had hoped to tell you that I busy eating pomegranates right off the trees and seeing bread cook in tradition tanor ovens (the precursor to the Indian tandoor). Instead, our trip had to be canceled at the very last minute, and I'm left telling you that I am still here in Boston, missing a place that I have never seen.

The morning of our trip, my father woke up with the worst arthritis pain he has ever had, and we spent the morning on the phone with Air France and American Express Travel trying to recoup some of our losses (over 4 hours on the phone, however, gained us nothing, and we still lost the entire cost of our plane tickets). To say it mildly, I was bummed, but we all agreed that it was better to be safe than sorry.

So then I hoped that I would cook a bunch of Armenian dishes, but I haven't exactly lived up to that promise. I've mostly been moping around, trying to keep my DVR as clean as possible and working on some embroideries. I have promised my father a batch of simit, and I have already bought the ingredients for that, so I know I'll make at least one recipe in the next few days. I've been wanting to try something different, but I realized that I've already made quite a few Armenian dishes for this blog: manti, paklava, baba ganoush, kadayif, sou boreg, tourshi, vospov kheyma, mock kheyma, and string cheese.

Instead, while I was busy organizing and packing for the trip last week, I took some time to make tabbouleh from the piles of parsley in my garden. I hadn't anticipated that it would be useful in such a way as this, but these things always work out as they should, right?

Tabbouleh (often spelled tabouli or with other variations) can be made in a million different ways, as long as there is parsley, bulgur wheat, oil, and lemon juice. I like mine to be predominantly parsley, with just a hint of wheat, but the ratios can be changed depending on your own taste. I also love chopping herbs, so I don't mind the effort that goes into making this dish predominantly parsley. I like a little spice in mine, but that can be left out.

Tabbouleh
1/2 cup fine bulgur wheat
1 cup warm water
2 large bunches parsley
2 large sprigs mint
4 scallions
1 large tomato
olive oil
Juice of 1 lemon
salt
cayenne pepper

In a large bowl, combine bulgur wheat and water. Stir so that all the grains are coated with water. Let soak while you chop the vegetables, or at least 30 minutes. If the wheat soaks up all the water while you are chopping, add a little bit more.

Finely mince the parsley, mint, and scallions. I mean fine. Remove the seeds from the tomato and chop fine. Pour off any excess water from the bulgur wheat, then add parsley, mint, scallions, and tomato. Add some olive oil, a little at a time, and the lemon juice. Toss well to coat. Make sure to add enough oil so that the salad is not dry. Season with salt and pepper (or cayenne pepper) to taste.

Manti, or Armenian Dumplings

Manti is one of those Armenian dishes that I had only a couple times in my childhood, and while I liked it, it was never something I was eager to have again. I think it may be because the traditional way to serve it, the little dumplings floating in a pool of chicken broth, is rather bland and mushy. In college, I experimented with a number of Armenian recipes, and through a whim, found out that I quite like manti, as long is it isn't served in its traditional way.

Manti is an Armenian dumpling, little balls of ground lamb wrapped in a dough to form a tiny little canoe. The meat peeks out on one side, giving you a hint of what's to come. They're great as a meal, a side dish, or just a snack. Just don't give it to me in chicken broth.

When I first started making these, I made my own dough, rolling it out very thin and painstakingly cutting it into little squares. The dough baked up a little thicker and drier than I liked. I used to freeze the baked mantis and toast them in the toaster oven for a little snack - they reminded me a lot of the frozen mini eggrolls my mother used to buy for me from the supermarket when I was a kid.

A few years later, though, my mother had the idea to use premade dough to make the process go quicker. We had already used refrigerated eggroll wrappers to make sou boreg, another Armenian dish with paper-thin noodles, so we thought it might be worth a try with the manti instead.

Lo and behold, the shortcut manti worked! It's quite different than the kind I used to make - I think I got used to the thick and dry dough - but these seem more like what manti should really be.

Manti is easy to make, but incredibly time consuming. Get a friend to help so it will go faster (you'll have someone to share the whole pan with when you're done, too!). I like to eat them straight out of the oven, but my mother still likes the chicken broth, so I've included that as well. You can freeze these after the initial baking if you'd like (make two trays and freeze one - then you won't have to do the work again later), although they reheat better with the chicken broth.

Manti
1/2 package egg roll wrappers
1 pound ground lamb
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1/4 cup finely chopped parsley
1 tsp allspice
1/2 - 1 tsp cayenne pepper (optional)
salt and pepper
small bowl of water
1 can (14.5 oz) chicken broth (optional)

Mix lamb, onion, parsley, and spices together. If you're unsure if it is spiced enough, you can fry up a little bit in a pan to get a taste. Cut each egg roll wrapper into 9 equal square pieces. Roll a pinch of the meat mixture into a ball and place in the center of a piece of dough (pictured above). With your finger, wet along two opposite sides of the dough and pinch together, forming a canoe shape with an open top. (Does this make sense to anyone but me? The wet edge with press against itself, not against the other wet edge.)

Place manti tightly together in a greased glass baking dish, open side up. When you have filled the dish, bake at 350° for 20-30 minutes or until lightly browned (we're not much for setting timers around here, just cooking "until it's done").

For chicken broth preparation, cook as instructed above, then pour chicken broth over manti, cover with tin foil, and bake for another 15-20 minutes.

Pomegranate Paklava

Paklava just doesn't photograph well, does it?

As a second entry into PAMA's Pomegranate Month recipe contest, I decided to update an Armenian classic with Pomegranate Paklava. Armenian paklava is usually less sweet and gooey than Greek baklava, which I am in favor of, but I've still never really liked it. My mother makes it with walnuts, possibly the worst nut out there (I'll eat Brazil nuts before I eat a walnut!), and I've always felt that pistachios are a more fitting nut for this pastry anyway. Adding pomegranate seemed like a natural step. I'm really happy with how this turned out, and although I'm still not a fan of paklava in general, I'd be much more likely to eat this fruitier version.

Pomegranate Paklava
2 cups chopped pistachios
2 Tbsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1 lb. phyllo dough
2 sticks butter, melted
1/2 cup PAMA Liqueur
1/4 cup water
1 cup sugar

Combine chopped pistachios, 2 Tbsp sugar, and cinnamon in a bowl and set aside.

Unroll phyllo dough and cover with a damp cloth to prevent it from drying. Brush melted butter over the bottom and sides of a 13×9 pan. Lay one sheet of phyllo dough on the bottom of the pan and brush generously with butter. Repeat with two-thirds of the phyllo sheets, ending with a brushing of butter. Spread the pistachio mixture evenly over the dough, making sure to spread all the way to the edges. Top with the remaining sheets of phyllo dough, each brushed with butter. Cover the pan and refrigerate for an hour to let the butter harden.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and cut the paklava into squares or diamonds, making sure to cut all the way through to the bottom. Bake for 25-35 minutes, or until golden brown.

While paklava is cooling, combine PAMA Liqueur, water, and 1 cup of sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat and stir to dissolve the sugar. Pour hot syrup over paklava; if you like a paklava that is a little less sweet, use less of the syrup. Re-cut the paklava (the edge of a spatula may give you better leverage than a knife). Serve on a platter or in individual paper baking cups.

Pomegranate Baba Ganoush

I'm Armenian and I love eggplant, and yet, it has taken me this long to make baba ganoush. I feel like a slacker. But don't worry, I've definitely made more than my fair share of the dip in the past few weeks to make up for it.

Baba ganoush is a Middle Eastern dip or salad which, at its most basic, consists of mashed eggplant and spices. It's an easy enough recipe that only takes a few minutes to put together (minus the roasting time, of course). It's simple, and yet, no one can decide on one recipe. My Armenian cookbook has four different versions (of course, that cookbook typically has four different versions of every dish, so this isn't saying all that much). I've played around with the recipe enough that I think I've found my version of baba ganoush. How do you like to make baba ganoush?

Oh, and seeing at pomegranate season has officially begun (I recently picked up a HUGE pomegranate from Pom Wonderful at the supermarket and couldn't wait to start peeling), and that means it's time for me to start throwing pomegranate arils into anything and everything I make. So into my baba ganoush went a handful of arils, along with some on the top for garnish, and it was love at first bite. The body of the dip is garlicky and salty with an unctuous creaminess, and the pomegranate adds little bursts of sweet freshness that makes this dip a little different (it's the same concept as my pomegranate guacamole).

Pomegranate Baba Ganoush
1 large eggplant (about 1 pound)
1/4 cup tahini (sesame paste)
2 Tbsp olive oil, divided
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper
1/2 cup lemon juice
2 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
arils of 1 pomegranate, divided
3/4 cup parsley, finely chopped, plus a few whole leaves for garnish

Preheat oven to 350°. Prick the eggplant with a fork, then set on a rimmed baking pan with 1/2 cup water. Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, or until the eggplant is soft all the way through. Add more water to the pan as needed; the steam will help the eggplant cook.

Let eggplant cool until it can be handled, then peel off the skin. Combine the eggplant, tahini, 1 Tbsp olive oil, salt, cayenne pepper, lemon juice, and garlic in a blender (or a large bowl if you are using an immersion blender). Blend until smooth and combined. Stir in 3/4 of the pomegranate arils and chopped parsley. Add more salt and cayenne pepper to taste.

To serve, arrange baba ganoush in bowl, drizzle with remaining 1 Tbsp olive oil, and scatter remaining pomegranate arils and parsley leaves on top. Serve with sliced vegetables, pita chips, or just a fork.

The Edible Word: Confections of a Closet Master Baker, Part 2, Plus my recipe for Katayif

As I mentioned, one of the moments that hit me hardest while reading Confections of a Closet Master Baker was when Gesine was talking about her mother's favorite recipe, Zwetschgendatschi. She talks about baking this for her mother as she was dying from cancer, and she talks about baking this for a man who had first tasted it in Germany during World War II. It's a short chapter, but I fought off tears as I read that her mother, who kept a very strict diet, made and ate an entire tart on the day she dropped Gesine off at college, and how Gesine made her version for her aunt's birthday. I wanted to go home and bake one immediately, to pay tribute to tradition and family (even if it's not my own family or my own tradition).

But I discovered that my mother had taken the tart pans with her to our summer house, and my friend only had a large tart pan (too large for the recipe in the book) for me to borrow. I'll hold off on making Zwetschgendatschi, then, until I can do it right.

In the meantime, I wanted to contribute a recipe to the Edible Word that means something to me. It's not my mother's favorite recipe, nor does it hold any special memories like Gesine's Zwetschgendatschi, but it does remind me of family and tradition and all that jazz.

I don't read or write or speak Armenian, which definitely separates me from many of my Armenian friends and acquaintances. Being second/third generation American can do that to you. But between my mother and my own curiosity, I have learned to make many Armenian dishes that my peers would never contemplate making. I grew up eating many of these dishes, but there are few in my generation who make them, and they are something of a lost art now.

I remember going to a cooking class at our church when I was a kid (one of the few times that non-religious me stepped into a church) and watching all the old ladies, dressed in black with their hair tied up in buns, as they showed us how to bake things like simit. And I remember sitting at my grandmother's kitchen table, "helping" (but really just mucking everything up) as we made berag and she taught me how to fold the dough into tight little triangles.

Katayif is another Armenian dish that you don't find all that often. And that's a shame, because it is pretty easy and amazingly delicious. It used shredded filo dough (often labeled “Kataifi" on the package) and a delicious vanilla custard that thickens up (especially when eaten straight out of the fridge). One pan serves a ton of people, too, so it's great to serve at a party.

Cream katayif also always makes me laugh. When pronounced correctly, the "K" sounds like you're clearing your throat, kind of like the word "loch". And somehow, the "C" of cream invariably always gets pronounced the same way. But "cream" is in English, and "katayif" is in Armenian, and yet they both get the Armenian pronunciation. My brothers and I always over-pronounce the hell out of those "C"s and "K"s, and just thinking about it makes me laugh.

Cream Katayif

2 cups heavy cream
2 cups light cream
4 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
½ cup cornstarch
½ cup whole milk

2 lbs shredded filo dough (often labeled “Kataifi”), divided
1 lb (4 sticks) unsalted butter, melted and divided

2 cups sugar
1 cup water
1 tsp vanilla extract

Make filling ahead of time and cool completely before proceeding. Combine heavy cream, light cream, sugar, and vanilla in a medium saucepan. Mix cornstarch and milk together until cornstarch is dissolved, then add to cream mixture. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly until thickened (to pudding consistency). Cool completely.

Preheat oven to 375°. Butter the bottom and sides of an 11x15 inch pan. In your largest mixing bowl, pull apart 1 pound of dough until it is light and fluffy and there are no clumps. Pour ½ lb (2 sticks) of melted butter over the dough and toss to coat evenly. Press dough into the pan, patting down as tightly as possible. Pour cooled custard evenly over the dough. Repeat the shredding and buttering process with the second pound of dough and ½ pound butter, then press into pan over the custard.

Bake for 30-40 minutes, or until golden brown. While kadayif is baking, combine sugar, water, and vanilla extract in a small pan and bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve sugar. Boil until syrup is clear.

Pour hot syrup over hot katayif, then cover with foil for 15 minutes. Cut into squares and serve warm or at room temperature. Leftovers are good straight from the fridge.

Cheap Eats: Sofra Bakery

In a quiet spot just off the main road, with a menu that deviates from the typical fare, Sofra Bakery in Cambridge offers a wide variety of tantalizing eastern Mediterranean flavors. With so many choices, you're sure to find something you like.

The shining glory of the bakery is the mezze bar, which takes up a good portion of the area next to the register. Mezze (or often meze) is a spread of appetizers - and this is definitely a spread. Choose one (with crackers) for $3 or five (with bread) for $9. The whipped feta with sweet and hot pepper (a mainstay at Oleana and something you can make at home) is creamy and sweet, with not too much kick. The spicy Moroccan carrot salad is addictive, packed with flavor from harissa, ginger, olive oil and vinegar. Be adventurous - with so many options, you have plenty of room to try something you might normally order. But make sure to order an extra piece of bread - you don't get nearly enough.

If sandwiches are more your deal, try the stuffed flatbreads. Think of them as a Mediterranean burrito - a griddled flatbread wrapped around inventive and creative fillings, such as eggplant, leeks, and goat cheese, or chick pea, potato, labne, and za'atar. The sausage flatbread, with cumin, orange, olives, and feta is this Bostonist's favorite, packed with ground sausage and more flavor than you'd think the wrapper could handle.

And of course, don't forget that Sofra is a bakery above everything else. A variety of delicious treats are perched next to the register, and it's hard not to order one (or twelve) as you order your meal.

Sofra Bakery is located at 1 Belmont Street in Cambridge. They are open Monday-Friday, 8am-8pm, Saturday 8am-6pm, and Sunday 8am-3pm. It can get really crowded inside, so be prepared to visit at off hours or get your food to go.

Originally published on Bostonist.

Sou Boreg

Sou Boreg, like so many Armenian dishes, is this mythical creature that many people talk about eating when they were younger, but would never attempt to make themselves. You can sometimes find it at Armenian markets, usually in the freezer section, and I was amazed to find it available every day on the menu at Brookline Family Restaurant, the Turkish place down the street from me.

The biggest reason why you don’t see this more often is because it’s such a time intensive process. This is one of those dishes that, in the old days, the ladies would have gathered together to make in mass quantities, helping each other and gossiping at the same time. While we were making this, my brother hypothesized that such complex dishes were created back in the day to cure boredom and enable gossip time; I favor the idea that they were a way to show off talent (and show off that you had the time to invest in the process) instead. When my mother complained that the process was taking too long, I said that we were at least getting in some bonding time. “Can’t we do something else to bond?” she asked.

Anyway, my mother tried making sou boreg from scratch years ago, and she found it to be more of a hassle than anything. Rolling out the dough took forever because it has to be so thin and even. Then, someone suggested using packaged eggroll wrappers instead, cutting out the steps of making and rolling out the dough. Each individual eggroll wrapper must still be boiled for a moment, shocked in ice water, then arranged on a towel to dry, meaning that the shortcut does not make this a quick dish to throw together. But if you have the time, the patience, and an extra set of hands, the reward is a crunchy, cheesy, buttery treat that will make you forget the effort that went into it.

The picture below shows the set up for boiling the noodles, with the pots for hot water (in the back), ice water (in the front), and the noodles on the towel.


Sou Boreg
2 lbs Muenster cheese, rind removed, grated
8 oz. cottage cheese
1 egg, beaten
1 cup parsley, minced
36 eggroll wrappers
1 ½ sticks butter, melted

Butter the bottom and sides of an 11x15 inch baking pan.

Combine Muenster cheese, cottage cheese, egg, and parsley. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat. Fill another pot or bowl with ice water, and lay a large towel on the counter top next to the stove. Working one at a time, boil the first 18 eggroll wrappers in boiling water for about a minute, until just cooked through (they will fall apart if cooked too long). Transfer to ice water to cool the noodle, then lay flat on the towel to dry. Arrange the 18 noodles in the tray – for this size pan, three noodles per layer (2 whole and one cut in half) – and brush each layer with butter. After six layers, arrange cheese filling in an even layer. Boil and dry the rest of the noodles, then repeat layering over the cheese filling. Cover and refrigerate for at least half an hour.

Preheat oven to 400°. Remove tray from fridge and cut into squares. Bake for 30-40 minutes or until golden. Serve hot.

Tourshi, or How It's So Easy to Always Have Salty, Crunchy, Healthy Snacks on Hand

Yes, I know canning is something that's usually done in the late summer/early fall, but when am I ever together enough to do something like that on time? As soon as classes ended last semester, I started in on making some gifts for friends and family, and the first thing I thought of was tourshi.

Tourshi is an Armenian recipe for pickled vegetables, traditionally with carrots, celery, cabbage, and cauliflower. My father used to tell me about the giant vat of the stuff that his parents kept on their back deck and how cold the brine would get in the winter when he went to sneak a snack. When I was a kid, it was something we only had occasionally, usually after a visit to the church bazaar. And tourshi was probably the first time I had cauliflower, and for many years, it was the only way I would eat it. A few years ago, when I got into a kick of basically opening the church cookbook up to a random page and making whatever sounded good, I finally tried my hand at tourshi - and it was so stupidly easy, I couldn't help but wonder why we hadn't been making our own all along. The hardest part to the whole process is cutting the vegetables into chunks and arranging them in the jar (and looking at my pictures here, it's clear that I didn't do the best job with packing).


Tourshi
1 lb carrots, peeled and cut into sticks
1 lb celery, cut into sticks
1 cauliflower, cut into bite-size florets
1 lb sugar snap peas, ends trimmed
1/2 large cabbage, cut into wedges
12 cloves garlic, peeled
1 bunch fresh dill
whole black peppercorns
2 quarts water
1 quart cider vinegar
1/2 cup Kosher salt
2 Tbsp sugar


Arrange 6 quart-size (wide-mouth preferable) canning jars on the counter or table. Place two garlic cloves in each (more if the cloves are small) along with a few sprigs of dill and a few peppercorns. In each jar, tightly pack in cleaned and cut vegetables until the jar is full. Top with more dill sprigs and a few more peppercorns.

In a large pot, bring water, vinegar, salt, and sugar to a boil, stirring to dissolve the salt and sugar. Carefully ladle the brine into each jar (a small funnel is very helpful in this) and seal with clean lids. Store in a cool place for at least two weeks, and refrigerate before serving.

Also, once you've eaten everything in the jar, you can just throw in a few more veggies to get a second life out of the brine - they won't be as intense as the first round, but they'll still be delicious and salty with very little work.

Baraze

When I had my first kitchen during college, I spent a relaxing spring break without housemates, doing whatever I felt like - such as cooking. My mother had recently given me a copy of our church's cookbook, and I decided that trying my hand at some of my favorite Armenian foods would be a good way to spend the break. That week, I made manti and lehmajun and simit for the first time, and I've since gone on to expand my repertoire a bit. I'm not sure when I first made baraze (a Lebanese cookie hiding out in my Armenian cookbook), but it's found its way into my rotation of cookies.

I first wanted to try making baraze because it uses mahleb, one of my favorite spices. Mahleb is the pit of the sour cherries, and has a fabulous nutty and slightly bitter flavor that is important to many baked goods in Armenia and other surrounding countries. It should be bought whole and ground just before using (although I usually get it ground at the store for convenience's sake).

Of course, once that I saw that the recipe included honey, sesame seeds, and pistachios, I was sold. These buttery cookies are slightly addictive, and the combo of the mahleb, sesame seeds, and pistachios is satisfying to any nut lover.


Baraze
3 cups flour
1 cup sugar
1 Tbsp. mahleb
2 Tbsp. baking powder
2 sticks butter, melted
1/4 cup warm water
4 Tbsp. honey
2 Tbsp. warm water
sesame seeds (about 3/4 cup)
pistachio nuts, finely chopped (about 1/2 cup)

In a mixing bowl, combine flour, sugar, mahleb, baking powder, butter, and 1/4 cup water. Mix until dough is firm. Refrigerate dough for 15 minutes.

In a small bowl, combine honey and water and mix until honey is thinned. On a small plate, combine sesame seeds and chopped pistachios.

Preheat oven to 350°. To form the cookies, roll a piece of dough into a walnut-sized ball, then flatten between your hands. Brush on side with the honey, then dip honey-side down into nut mixture. Arrange cookies on a greased or parchment-lined baking sheet about 1 inch apart and bake for 10-15 minutes, until edges begin to brown and the mahleb flecks in the dough begin to darken.

Grease-free Spanakopita

The farmers' markets have finally arrived! And while there's not much produce out yet, it's exciting to know that there will be so many fresh ingredients in the coming months. I picked out some terrific spinach this week with the hopes of making spanakopita. And yes, it's more time consuming to use fresh spinach (and not baby spinach or frozen spinach), the outcome is a much greener taste - you can tell that the filling didn't come from a bag.

I grew up eating things wrapped in filo dough - mostly berag, because I'm really not a fan of paklava. The filo we used was the very thin kind - the kind that rips when you just look at it. It's frustrating sometimes, but the results are worth it when you bite through a little crispy cloud of goodness. It wasn't until I visited Greece that I encountered the other kind of filo dough (although I'd seen it in our Armenian market before). The "other kind", labelled country-style or horiatiko or sometimes just "thick," is denser and not so fragile and is a great place for beginners to start. It also makes dishes a little heartier, as this dough has more body. And, as an added bonus, it sucks up any extra grease, making the results feel a little more healthy (even if there is still a stick of butter in there).

Grease-free Spanakopita
-1/2 cup olive oil
-1 yellow onion, finely chopped
-2 lbs fresh spinach, ribs removed; washed and chopped
-10 oz feta cheese, crumbled
-1/2 bunch parsley, washed and finely choppd
-2 eggs
-1/4 tsp nutmeg
-salt and pepper to taste
-1 stick unsalted butter (you may need more)
-1 package "country-style" filo dough (should be 8 or 10 sheets)

In a large pan, heat olive oil. Add onion and saute until the onions begin to brown. Add spinach and cook, stirring occasionally, until all the leaves are cooked down. Pour the spinach mixture into a colander and drain out as much water as possible. Allow the mixture to cool, still draining in the colander. When it is cool, press out any additional water with your hands, then put the spinach in a large mixing bowl. Add feta, parsley, eggs, nutmeg, and salt and pepper, and mix to incorporate.

Preheat oven to 325°. Melt butter and brush the bottom and sides of a large glass baking dish. Carefully lay down one sheet of dough, then brush on a layer of butter. If the dough is too large, fold over the edge to fit into the pan, making sure to butter everywhere the sheet overlaps. Continue to layer the sheets and the butter until you have used half of the dough (4 or 5 sheets). Add spinach mixture and spread out so that all the dough is covered. Then lay down another sheet of dough, and continue alternating between dough and brushing with butter. For the final sheet of dough, instead of folding it over to fit into the dish, trim the sides so it fits exactly. Use any remaining butter on the top layer. Before baking, cut into servings, making the slices as large as you would like (I got 12 out of my pan).

Bake for 30 to 40 minutes until golden brown. Let cool slightly before serving.

Vospov Kheyma - Cool Meal for Hot Days

Well, it's gotten a little cooler, but the humidity is still at roughly 150%, making it feel brutal out. I was thinking that I hadn't cooked anything Armenian in a while, and between that and the heat, I figured vospov kheyma would be a perfect meal.

"Vospov" means lentils in Armenian, and this dish is traditionally served during Lent to replace regular kheyma, made out of raw meat. But, as I've said before, I'm not a big fan of the stuff, and I tend to turn towards the vegetarian versions. Vospov kheyma is more dense than the stuff I make with tomato sauce and doesn't attempt to taste like the real thing. Instead, with the combo of lentils and bulghur, it has a more earthy flavor, and only a few small pieces can fill you up.

I enjoy eating this when it's hot out because I find they taste best if eaten straight from the fridge, nice and cold. Plus, the scallions and parsley sprinkled over the top just taste so bright and fresh.



Vospov Kheyma
1 bunch scallions, finely chopped
1 bunch parsley, finely chopped
2 cups red lentils
3 cups water
1 cup fine bulghur
3 onions, finely chopped
3/4 cup olive oil
salt
cayenne powder

Mix together chopped scallions and parsley and set aside.

Wash lentils. Put water and lentils in a medium pot and boil until lentils have absorbed most of the water and are soft. Add a little more water if lentils are not tender. Remove from heat and add bulghur, mixing well. Let stand for 15 minutes.

Saute onions in olive oil until onions are translucent. Add to lentil mixture. Also add about 2/3 of the scallion/parsley mix and enough salt to taste.

Mold into individual portions by taking as much as will fit in a closed fist and gently compacting it until it stays together. Arrange on a platter, sprinkle with cayenne pepper, and garnish with remaining scallion/parsley mix.

Fake Meat, Soy-Free

Meat, particularly lamb, plays a pretty big part of Armenian cuisine. Roast lamb, kebabs, as the topping on lehmajun, and in it's most primitive form, as kheyma.

Kheyma consists mainly of raw, ground lamb and softened bulghur wheat, with plenty of parsley and onion in there for flavoring. My brothers still talk about watching the old men at our church in the 1970's, hairy elbows-deep in the kheyma as they mixed it for a picnic or bazaar. It's a very traditional dish, but it can be hard to come by in today's world, where raw meat is not usually the first choice for dinner. Personally, it's not my first choice either.

Surprisingly, there is a meat-free alternative that tastes pretty similar to the real thing (even better, I think). It's a really simple recipe, and the hardest part is just making sure all the ingredients are chopped up fine enough. Just make sure that all of your friends or family eat it at the same time - there is a LOT of onion in there.

Mock Kheyma

• 1 cup fine bulghur wheat
  
• 3 cups Hunt's tomato sauce (my mother assures me that it MUST be Hunt's, but any sauce that's pretty much just tomato puree should do)
  
• 1 medium red onion, finely chopped
  
• 1 bunch scallions, finely chopped
  
• 1 bunch parsley, minced
  
• 1 lemon, juiced
  
• 1/4 cup vegetable oil (olive oil is too strong a flavor)
  
• dash of cayenne pepper

Mix bulghur with tomato sauce and let it soak. Add chopped vegetables, lemon juice, oil, and cayenne, and mix well. Cover and refrigerate overnight for flavors to blend. Serve with crackers or parag hatz.

Brookline Family Restaurant, Brookline Village

I'd heard good things about the Brookline Family Restaurant for a while now, but it was never in the front of my mind when I was in the Brookline Village area. When I think of what kinds of Turkish food are going to be available in a restaurant, I usually don't think much beyond kebabs. And when I picture kebabs, it's in my own backyard with my dad pulling the skewers off the grill. But I was in the area the other day, and it was a toss-up between Turkish or Chinese for lunch, so I decided to give it a try.

The menu is extensive and includes breakfast and lunch sections. There is also a section called "Turkish Pizzas." I even recognized a few dishes from having made the Armenian versions at home, specifically lehmajun and su boreg, so I had to try those two, of course.

The lehmajun was super crispy, more like a giant meat-topped chip. It was served with plenty of fresh parsley and red onions for topping (at home, I roll my softer lehmajun around salad, while my brothers slather it with mayo). The lamb was tasty and not too dry, although it could have used a little more seasoning.


I was very surprised to see su boreg on the menu (and on the breakfast menu at that). It's a labor-intensive dish that involves extremely thin sheets of pasta layered with a cheese and parsley mixture and tons of butter. My mother and I usually make it together because it helps to have four hands working on it. The restaurant's version was very tasty, but it was missing something - salt, perhaps, or enough butter. I would definitely order it again, though, especially when I have a craving, because I rarely have enough time or energy to make it myself.

I would try other dishes the next time I go, but I'll probably just end up ordering the su boreg again :)

Blogging by Mail Meme

Blogging by Mail is a program in which food bloggers send small gifts to fellow bloggers as a way to create community amongst people who will probably never meet. I'm very excited to be taking part, but I'm still trying to figure out what I'll be putting in my package.

This afternoon, Antonia from Food, Glorious Food! tagged me in a meme - she will be sending me a package from sunny ol' England. She thought this would be a good way to get to know me a little (I've already gotten to know her a little too), so I thought it would be fun. I'll go ahead and tag Michelle from Culinography, to whom I'll be sending my package. Hi Michelle!

My five favorite foods: Greek-style pizza (this is a Boston thing, I think), napoleons, popcorn with lots of salt and butter, pomegranates (the fruit, not the juice), and anything chocolate-mint.

My five least favorite foods: Mushrooms (although I'm beginning to like the more gourmet varieties), smoked fish, eggs (by themselves - I don't care if they're in something), sushi, and peaches (I like the flavor, but just can't get over the fuzziness).

Something I've never cooked, but really should have: Pilaf. My aunt gave my cousins "pilaf tests," and she can't believe I've never made a batch. My mother was going to remedy this last summer, but it just never happened.

What I ate today: a honey stick for my sore throat, a handful of small Reese's peanut butter cups, peppermint tea, a couple glasses of orange juice, a rice and bean burrito, a blood orange, and drink (lots of different martinis) and food (crispy shrimp, tender pork ribs, braised veal) samples from a new restaurant called Persephone.

My last meal on Earth: For pure sentimentality, I'd have to go with some of the Armenian goodies I grew up with - su boreg made with my mom, cheese boreg (my sister-in-law, who's not even Armenian, makes awesome ones), string cheese, lamejun, choreg with lots of mahleb, and cream kadayif. And Brigham's peppermint ice cream, because I'm from Boston, and we have the highest per capita ice cream consumption in the US.

It's that Easy?!?

Needing to use the rest of my mozzarella curd, I decided to try my hand at Armenian string cheese. For some reason, I've always enjoyed making the most labor-intensive Armenian dishes (manti is my favorite), so of course I'm crazy enough to want to make my own string cheese. But after actually doing it, I can't believe how easy it is... why have I never done this before?!? (Oh right, finding the curd has been a bitch...)

If anyone else decides to try this, I thought I'd provide a more pictoral recipe - I didn't think I could describe the process well enough without examples...

Armenian String Cheese

1 pound mozzarella curd
mahleb
nigella seeds
salt

Fill a bowl with cold water and salt it heavily; set aside.

Chop curd into small pieces and put into a microwaveable bowl or measuring cup. Microwave on high for 2-3 minutes, until the lumps are melted, but before the curd becomes soupy. Drain off whey and add a large pinch of mahleb and a large pinch of nigella seeds. Kneed the cheese to incorporate mahleb and seeds; pour off any more whey that may have separated. In your hands, form cheese into a ball. Poke a hole in the middle, forming a donut, and begin to stretch.


Double the cheese over and stretch some more.


Keep stretching and pulling, doubling it back up when it gets too long.


The more you stretch and twist the cheese, the more stringy the final product will be.


As the cheese begins to cool, twist the cheese like a rope as you pull, then let it twist up upon itself.


Keep twisting and pulling. When the cheese seems like it has cooled too much to stretch without breaking, tuck one end over the other, forming a braided ball. Place the cheese in the salted water for 2-3 hours. It can be eaten immediately or frozen, wrapped in plastic.

First Among Fruits

I was wandering through the produce section at one of the local markets this weekend when I was stopped in my tracks. Half way across the area, a basket rested on the exotic fruit table, filled with pomegranates. True, they weren't especially large or red, but they were there! Two whole months before I expected to see one! I exercised great restraint by only buying two instead of the whole basket.


The pomegranate is my favorite fruit, not only because it's delicious, but also because of the mythology surrounding it. In Greek myth, Persephone was tricked into staying in the Underworld when she ate six pomegranate seeds. In Jewish tradition, there are 613 seeds in a pomegranate, corresponding to the 613 commandments of the Torah. In Christian iconography, Christ is often holding a pomegranate in Virgin and Child scenes.


The pomegranate (or nur) is also one of the symbols of Armenia, representing marriage, fertility and abundance. Throughout the Middle East, pomegranates are used in wedding rituals; the more seeds in the fruit, the more fruitful the marriage will be.


The health benefits of pomegranates are tremendous, as well, as the recent surge of pomegranate-related products supports. The antioxidants in the fruit are especially beneficial for the heart... but if you want all the details, a quick web search will provide what you're looking for.


Despite the millions of pomegranate products, I'll be sticking with the real thing when I can find it. There's something so zen about peeling the arils, or seeds, out from the leathery skin, sampling a tart seed now and again.


Note: The title for this post comes from the poem "Garden Song," translated by Ezra Pound and Noel Stark, second-hand from Egyptian hieroglypics, about the pomegranate.

What the hell is Cristle?

While shopping at Eastern Lamejun in Watertown for provisions, this candy caught my eye, thanks to the darling love birds on the wrapper. I've had this type of sesame candy a million times before (as I have mentioned), and this one wasn't particularly good. I just liked the birds... and the fact that it's called "Cristle". (click the picture for details)

So what the hell is Cristle? Do they mean "crackle," or "crystal"? Or maybe the Lebanese word for this sounds like "cristle". Any thoughts?

The Quaker Oats Guy Goes Exotic

My friend has been writing a blog about online dating. She's hilarious, and I keep checking back to see if there are new posts... but she's been quiet for too long. So I bartered with her - cookies for a post. Of course, that means I get a post out of it too ;)

So I set off to make possibly the easiest cookies in the world. Long ago, I mastered the recipe inside the Quaker Oats box. In my ever-evolving desire to make things a little more interesting, I decided to trade the raisins in for a more Armenian taste - dried cherries and apricots. I don't have real measurements on the fruit, because I just kept adding until it looked like a decent amount. Have I mentioned that I love the dried fruits aisle at Trader Joes?

Of course, you can vary the dried fruit however you want, but I really like mixing two flavors in there... it gives the cookie some depth and a variety of textures. In these cookies, the apricots are a little tougher and chewier, while the cherries puffed up a little while baking and are soft and sweet.

With all the fruit in there, these cookies were very chewy, while also having a nice crumb to them. The tops were pretty smooth, with the occasional fruit piece or stray oat rearing it's lovely head. The undersides, however, were a rough mess of oats such that I ended up eating my cookies upside down to avoid crumbs all over the floor.




Cherry-Apricot Oatmeal Cookies
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt
2 cups uncooked Quaker Oats
dried cherries
dried apricots, chopped

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Beat together butter and sugars until creamy. Add eggs and vanilla and beat well. Add flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt and mix well. Stir in oats and dried fruit. Drop by rounded tablespoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake 10-12 minutes or until golden brown.