Both of these were on my list. My “Cook This Successfully At Least Once But Hopefully Twice” list.

Other things on this list include:
- Butter chicken
- Beef korma
- Shakriya (first time was good, second time was horrid)
- Roast beef
- Tuille cookies

What’s on your list?

Baking bread is so easy. Really. Trust me. You don’t even need a bread machine – if you’ve got a stand mixer or pair of strong arms, you can have homemade sandwich bread in an afternoon.

The best part about this is not even the flavor and texture of the bread – just a little sweet, toasted to a light crunch. The best part is not even the smoothness of the butter as it spreads across hot bread, melting into the nooks and crannies.

The best part….is the smell.

The smell is so rich, that your whole house smells like a fancy French bakery.

The smell is so fulfilling, that I stood in the kitchen to do dishes *just* so I could be closer to the aroma.

The smell is so luscious, that on Natasha’s birthday, instead of bringing her a loaf already made, I brought the dough to her apartment and baked it in her apartment. The smell was part of the gift.

And it’s easy. You can do it, I promise.

I’ll tell you about the butter first. The butter was easier than I thought it would be. I took full fat cream and put it in my stand mixer on medium. When it started to thicken, I turned it up to high. The cream goes from soft peaks to hard peaks, breaks, and then starts splitting into butter and buttermilk. You can hear the change in texture when it’s getting close to being ready – bits of butter begin to thwap against the side of the mixer. When you see large chunks of yellow butter floating in a white milky liquid, pour the stuff through a fine mesh sieve. Run your hands under cold water until they’re chilled enough to not melt the butter, then press the butter gently against the sieve or between your hands to extract more buttermilk. At this stage, it’s relatively soft and spreadable. You can put it back in and extract more buttermilk if you want. From one pint of cream, I got almost 1 cup of buttermilk and probably almost 3/4 of a stick of butter.

Okay, the bread. This is from my Good Housekeeping cookbook that Rabea gave me.

White Bread (or wheat, if you want)
1/2 cup warm water
2 pkgs active dry yeast
1/4 cup + 1 teaspoon white sugar
2 1/4 cups warm milk
4 tablespoons softened butter
1 tablespoon salt
about 7 – 7 1/2 cups all purpose flour (or bread flour).

[this recipe is for two loaves, and it's super easy to half it]

A note about “warm” – warm is considered about 105F to 115F. This temperature is really important – too hot, and you’ll kill the yeast; too cold, and it won’t activate. Do yourself a favor – do not try to do this by touch. Everyone feels heat differently, and the container you warm in could be warmer than the actual liquid.

A note about flour - I’ve only ever made this with white all-purpose flour, or a mixture of wheat and white. I would not make this all wheat, because it gets a little too tough – maybe a 60% white, 40% wheat would be the maximum I’d use. If I’m using both, I mix the flours together in a bowl first so the dough is getting a mixture of flours all through the process.

Breakfast in Syria is an event in itself. There’s no concept of a “quick bite” – that is a horrid Western innovation. Blasphemy, really. Breakfast is meant to be enjoyed, eaten slowly, in the company of family and friends, and then extended for at least two hours with cup after cup of hot, sweet tea.

I had my first experience with a full Syrian breakfast when my family and I went to Syria in May 2006, when Ameir and I had our Nikah.

There’s an art to it. The whole family sits together, most often on the floor with a medda (spread) laid out before them. There are no plates. Breakfast is eaten communally – everyone has a piece of bread and dips it into the various items. Thus, each dish must be laid out in a pattern, such that each person can reach each plate with their little chunks of bread. If there are a lot of people, there are two or three or four iterations of each dish, and the pattern is spread symmetrically all the way down the medda.

The symmetry is not to be taken lightly, as I learned. As a new bride at my in-laws for the first time, I naturally tried to make myself useful around the house. So, as Fatimah plated all the dishes, I helped Ameir and Maryam’s cousins carry them to the medda. Once I got there, I just set them down sporadically. They’d smile and say “Shukran.” I’d say “Afwan” and walk away for another plate, happy that I helped. When I came back with another, I noticed that the plate I had put down earlier had been moved. I thought nothing of it, and put down the new plates. “Shukran!” “Afwan!” Third sets of plates in hand, I noticed that the second set had been rearranged. Finally, I got it. I just laughed, and then just started handing the plates to the cousins to let them arrange them symmetrically. They laughed too – because of the language barrier, they couldn’t really explain what I was doing wrong, but they politely let me keep doing it without making me feel bad.

Every morning, Fatimah would lead the production of a kingly spread of cooked and fresh plates. Served hot or warm were baid – scrambled eggs; fool – warm, cumin-spiced fava beans topped with fresh tomato, onions, and parsley; tis’iyyah – yesterday’s hummus and bread cooked together with a tangy tahini sauce; mana’eesh, flatbreads topped with zaatar, ground beef, or feta and cheese; and falafel, fresh from the shop on the street corner. Everything got a healthy drizzle of fruity extra virgin olive oil, maybe even from Jiddo’s (Ameir’s grandfather) farm.

The morning after Ameir and I got married, Ammo (my father in law) made fried liver as a special hot plate. I am not a big red meat eater, and I especially have trouble with organs. My father in law is extremely hospitable and generous, and he naturally offered me the plate. I declined, and he thought I was just being shy. “Ameir!” he said, “Give her a bite!” Ameir knew I didn’t like liver, but out of respect for his father, he couldn’t say no. I gave Ameir the “please, no” look, but he had to do it – he tore a piece of bread, picked up a piece of liver, and put it in my mouth. “How is it?” asked Ammo eagerly. Without chewing, I smiled and nodded. “Wonderful!” he said, and turned back to talk to my father.

Meanwhile, I jabbed Ameir in the leg, motioning him to give me a napkin. I carefully released the liver into said receptacle. A few minutes later, Ammo turned back to me and Ameir. “Ameir, give her another bite!” But instead of watching this time, he turned back to laugh with my dad. Spared! It really was a hilarious scene, even at that time. Now, don’t get me wrong – he’s an expert at fried liver. But I just couldn’t do it. Thanks anyway, Ammo!

Cold plates include all kinds of fresh vegetables, sliced and served separately – radishes, cucumbers, tomatoes, bell peppers, whole green and black oil-cured olives, scallions, flai-flai (a peppery green similar to alfalfa), and an interesting little thing called ajoor. Ajoor are kind of dwarf watermelons; they’re light green with ridges. Inside, they’re about the color and taste of a cucumber, but are crispier than cucumbers.

Alongside all the vegetables are laban - thick yogurt sprinkled with dried mint and drizzled with olive oil; hummus drizzled with olive oil and topped with olives and chickpeas; slices of a mild-flavored Syrian cheese similar to mozarella, and a creamier cheese topped with tangy apricot or peach jam or sweet honey.

Next to each person sits a small, never-empty glass of shai, hot sweet tea. It’s a lighter brew, a golden amber color, so that the flavor of any fresh herbs – usually miramiyya (sage), na’na (mint) – comes through (and so you can drink as many cups as desired). The host will keep fill your cup the second it’s empty, needlessly asking “Soobik shai kaman?” – Should I pour you more tea? – as the cup is automatically refilled.

Also ever-flowing are the praises to the cook. Yaslamo eidaiki! May your hands be blessed! call out the breakfasters. Sahtain! Allah yasalmik! replies the chef – May you have two healths, and may God bless you.

An hour later, the plates are mostly empty. Leaning back against the sofa, you spend another hour nipping at the edges of the laban to pair with the four more cups of hot tea, reminiscing with your family about happy memories.

Every once in a while, a family should have a good Syrian breakfast. Leave the bowls of cereal or the pop tart. Forget the plates, spoons and forks. Spread a medda, sit on the floor and enjoy the food and family.

These are just cute. And yummy, and quick to put together. The sundried tomato butter is used twice – the onions are sauteed in it and it is spread onto the bagels. It adds a sweet-savory tang that balances out the strength of the kabobs (which I guess I’m using as breakfast sausage).

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I started this recipe in the form of Applesauce Cake from a Martha Stewart cookbook (that’s the only way I can stand her – on paper) – but they’re oh so much more cute as cupcakes with DL’s Dulce de Leche swirled on top.

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This was a bit of an experiment. Remember how our science teachers in middle and high school made us do everything with The Scientific Procedure? Okay, well here it is:

1. Problem: Will a swirl of the chocolate-hazelnut spread known as “Nutella” enhance the enjoyment of pancakes? (btw, did you know they have entire *cafes* devoted to Nutella? I saw a lot in Germany)

2. State Hypothesis: Yes, a drizzle of warm Nutella will heighten a weekend morning breakfast experience.

3. Procedure: Prepare boxed pancake mix, adding mashed over-ripe bananas. Warm the Nutella for a few seconds in the microwave until soft. Pour 1/4 cup of pancake batter into a hot skillet. Immediately drizzle Nutella onto raw-batter side. Swirl with a fork. Cook as otherwise directed.

4. Data: The Nutella swirl seemed to have been baked into the pancake on one side. The pancakes were blackened on both sides, much darker than usual pancakes.

5. Conclusion: This experiment reinforced two of the experimentor’s previously-held beliefs: (1) Nutella is delicious, and (2) the experimentor sucks at cooking pancakes, always burning them, and should just leave the practice to her father, the expert on all things pancake. The Nutella pancakes were very enjoyable, but would probably have tasted better if they weren’t burnt. The experimentor suggest cooking these pancakes on a lower heat, to prevent over-caramelization (a.k.a. burning) of the sugars from the banana and nutella.

Banana Cinnamon Maple Syrup

This is one experiment that turned out really well. The syrup doesn’t keep for a very long time, so stir leftovers into some oatmeal.

Over-ripe bananas, cut in a small dice
Cinnamon, more than you think you’ll need
Butter
Maple Syrup

Melt butter in saucepan, sautee bananas for a few seconds. Add cinnamon and stir (really, put as much cinnamon as you like. There can’t really be “too much” because the maple syrup is pretty strong). Once bananas are a bit softened, pour in as much maple syrup is desired. The more syrup, the pourable it will be. Less syrup makes this more of a compote, but equally as delicious. Let this simmer on very low heat (not too many bubbles) while you finish up the pancakes and set the table.

From my old, brown-paged, batter-stained Joy of Cooking, vol. 2: Appetizers, Desserts, and Baked Goods. It needed a little adjustment, but it was quite good – even though I don’t usually like orange flavors in desserts. I’m sure you can make it with lemon zest instead. It’s very good spread with ricotta cheese and drizzled with honey.

By the way, zest can be frozen. If you’ve got a bag of lemons to make lemonade, or if you’re peeling an orange to eat – zest it, then freeze it in a little ziploc bag, and juice a little bit of the fruit into the bag. You can keep it on hand and be ready to bake or make curd or add it to seafood.

Recipe here (more…)

This is a very tasty and filling weekend breakfast. It does take some time for the potatoes to cook, but it’s worth it. The tomatoes are optional, but I really recommend them because they make a tangy sauce and also provide some liquid for the potatoes to cook in. To make this quicker, microwave-boil the potatoes before putting them in the skillet.

Recipe here (more…)

I should be working on my law journal application, but a girl needs breakfast before an intellectual challenge, doesn’t she? Plus the topic is depressing. Back to work after this, I promise.

A while ago, I stared droolingly at Steamy Kitchen’s Fried Egg with Oyster Sauce and Chili and bookmarked it for future use. I have no oyster sauce. But, this morning, I found myself craving something savory and spicy, so I made my own version of SK’s. It’s kind of an Asian hash of sorts, but with a fried egg instead of a scramble.

SK’s picture is ten times better than mine (I started eating and then thought, wow, this is good, I should blog it, but I took a few more bites before I got my camera.) But what it lacked in photography, it made up for in taste. As I ate, I found myself wishing I had made two more eggs. The spicy soy-ginger sauce accented the soft egg and quick-cooked mushrooms and tomatoes perfectly, and the trick with the bread below was great, too. It was a tasty start to the day!

Recipe here: (more…)

My family, being of the classic Desi/Arab mentality, likes to buy in bulk. Which means that at the end of a week, we’ll have at least 5 almost too-ripe bananas that must be used. Solution: grab a wooden spoon, a big bowl, and start mushing.

This is my absolute favorite banana bread recipe. The basic recipe is from Joy of Cooking, but I change things around to make it my own. It’s a mix of the basic + improv of whatever I find at home that I think would be nice in it. Actually, come to think of it, the bread often turns out more like cake because I put a little more sugar and definitely more bananas than the recipe calls for. It comes out excellent every time, Alhamdulillah

Click link below for recipe
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As long as I can remember, my father will wake up early on every Saturday morning and make breakfast for the family. My mom and I get to sleep in while he goes to the grocery store to get what he needs and then whips up a simple but phenomenal meal. I’ll wake up to the smell of onions frying in a hot pan and sweet pancakes sizzling on a buttery griddle. It’s one of my favorite family traditions.

Abbu starts with an egg scramble. My grandmother in Islamabad is famous for her “Anda Aaloo” – an egg and potato scramble that she gets up early to make, dicing the potatoes into little tiny cubes that melt into the egg and tomato. Abbu has carried on the tradition. He’ll dice up onions, tomatoes, spicy chili peppers, and sometimes potatoes and fry them all in a pan before adding in eggs that he’s whipped with milk to make them fluffy. He spices the scramble with fresh chopped coriander leaves, cayenne, cumin, salt, and pepper. They’re beautifully colorful and delicious……except once, when at my eldest uncle’s house in Charleston, SC, Abbu mistook cinnamon for cumin and we had some interestingly-flavored, brownish eggs that morning. His big brother has teasingly but lovingly never let him forget it, either. (“I mean, I know you’re his daughter, Taiyyaba, but come on….those eggs were bad.”). The eggs are served with biscuits, hot from the oven.

Course two is fluffy pancakes with syrup. He puts lemon juice and baking soda into the batter, and when the acid reacts with the base, it leavens the pancakes and makes them super fluffy. Sometimes I help him out here by mushing bananas for the batter and making a cinnamon-banana maple syrup. Abbu is the expert at actually cooking the pancakes. I don’t know what he does, but they turn out crispy on the outside and soft and tender on the inside, every time. Abbu also makes some sort of potatoes with the eggs, usually french fries. Every kid’s dream, eh? French fries for breakfast! The meal presentation is always beautiful, too. Abbu will put a generous serving of everything on our plates, which are decorated with thin slices of apple or orange or a colorful fresh fruit salad.

With everything done, he calls everyone to the table for breakfast. We’ve got our own eating traditions, too. While we eat, we always have a discussion about why Ammi eats her french fries (or hash browns) with maple syrup instead of ketchup. She likes the savory-spicy-sweet combination. (Okay, okay….I used to think it was weird but now I like it too, and so does Abbu. We’ll convert Ameir eventually.) Abbu will always start eating and say “Oh! Best breakfast I have ever had, because we are together.” And then, at the end, he’ll lean back and pat his stomach and say “Ohh….I ate too much,” or, more often, “Taiyyaba, you let me eat too much.” (Ameir’s starting to do the same thing now, too). We top it all off with some hot tea. (The cup of tea pictured on my blog header was made by my Abbu!)

This whole experience is one of our favorite times of the week because it lets us get away from all the school and housework and just spend some real family time together!