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.

If anyone knows me, Sara, or Ayesha, you know that we’re each obsessed with food. If you put any two of us together, the effect is compounded. If you put ALL THREE of us together – there is an exponential explosion of food.

That’s what happened when Ayesha came down to a Raleigh for a friend’s wedding. We had been planning what to make for weeks beforehand and finally settled on a high tea so we could make a lot of different little things. We spent all day cooking up a storm.

Also, our cameras got to visit each other. All pictures in this post are taken by me, Ayesha, or Sara, on one of our cameras. Whoever was the closest to a camera and had the least flour on their hands took the picture.

The menu was as follows:

Savories
Chipotle Grilled Shrimp and Mango Kabobs
Roasted Vegetable and Fontina Paninis with Chipotle Mayo
Mini quiches – bacon and cheese, spinach and cheese
Fruit and nut salad with homemade candied walnuts and raspberry-balsamic vinaigrette.

Sweets
Scones with lemon curd and cream
Mini tarts with vanilla custard and strawberries
Jam thumbprint cookies, assorted flavors
Chocolate truffles

Awwwww yeah baby. And the insanity behind making all this food….let’s get started.

Firstly, the salad. I saw the recipe for making homemade candied walnuts on the Tiny Kitchen and we wanted to try them. The process seemed simple enough – melt sugar until it turns brown, add butter, mix in walnuts. Easy, right? Simple raspberry vinaigrette – easy peasy!

Deception. Lies and slander.

Thus also began the trek of Sara running back and forth from her house (across the street) because we kept forgetting ingredients. We almost wrote an epic poem. Thankfully, it all turned out well after multiple tries!

Well. Let’s let the pictures tell the story. Click the first on the left for the lightbox gallery. Make sure to read the captions.

Then, there were the phenomenal chipotle grilled shrimp and mango kabobs. Sara wanted to try a tropical fruit with the shrimp, and mango seemed perfect. I’ve also now gotten Sara and Ayesha hooked on the wonders of chipotle-in-adobo. We mirrored the chipotle in the kabobs with chipotle mayo in the roasted veggie sandwiches. We roasted eggplant, zuchinni, red bell pepper, and red onions (the latter with balsamic vinegar) and then made them into paninis with fontina cheese.

We made two types of quiche – one with a really delicious halal bacon that Ayesha brought from Maryland, and the other with spinach and cheese. Ayesha put little tart dough circles into my mini muffin pan, filled with the different flavors and egg (dough still raw), and baked.

These were relatively low stress after the spinach-caramel and exploding vinaigrette fiascos.

I had made Ina Garten’s Jam Thumbprint cookie dough the night before. It’s a cross between a sugar cookie and a shortbread – more like the latter….i.e. it’s phenomenal. Sara and I filled the cookies with strawberry jam, dulce de leche, and chocolate chips (because Musa wanted chocolate ones). The strawberry were the best. The dulce were good, but the dulce got a little too brown while they were in the oven.

The little vanilla custard tarts were just cute. Ayesha cut out the pie crust for the tarts and baked them in the mini muffin pan. We let them cool and filled them with the cream and topped with a slice of strawberry.

Ayesha made her phenomenal scones again (how does she do it? she just throws stuff in a bowl and scones emerge from the oven. BOOM. BOOM. FIYAPOWAAAA) (You have to be super cool to know where that comes from). I made lemon curd and Ayesha made clotted cream.

Ayesha also made really yummy chocolate truffles. We though they would be too soft, but after a trip to the fridge, they were fine.

Awesome, right? Yeah. That’s what I thought.

Of course, we only remembered to make the “tea” part of the high tea when we sat down to eat. We ate with Uncle Wahaj and Auntie Sarwat (Ayesha’s parents) and my parents. My dad summed it up nicely – “See, this is why we had daughters. If we had sons and we asked for some tea, they’d say….okay let’s go to Starbucks.”

yay!

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.

(I’m sorry that this post is so late, but my blog was going through a series of technical difficulties, and I was going through a bout of laziness. But Ameir fixed my blog, and I finally got off my butt. As Sophie reminded me, I have an obligation to my readers who need my blog to procrastinate from their daily duties. Apologizes for the spazzing of both myself and my blog.)

I love roasted corn. The savory sweetness of each kernel, the way the grill-marked pieces pop softly in your mouth, the charred aroma. Yum. The best way to eat it is straight from the grill, rubbed with lime or lemon and coated in salt, black pepper, and paprika. You can also shave off the kernels and make a roasted corn salad.

Unfortunately, the latter is kind of impractical to make for a big crowd. Not everyone wants to gnaw corn off the cob and get those little pieces stuck in their teeth. Then again, corn is an essential part of a summer barbeque, and I was unwilling to give up the flavor experience that is grilled corn.

Also, I had better things to do than shave off corn kernels from a million cobs. Like decorate mini cupcakes with my sweet little sisters-in-law.

See – isn’t this much better than shucking corn? I divided up in an exact number how many each pair of hands was allowed to frost with the piping bag and decorate with the rainbow candy sprinkles. We have to make it even to prevent the “Why did she get more than me” discussion.

So I had to recreate the flavor of roasted corn the cheating way, grilling a five pound can of the sweet stuff.

I’ve always wanted to master the simple chicken-and-rice dish that almost every food culture has. Murgh pilau, Dajjaj wa ruz, Arroz con Pollo, etc. So, after years of watching my mom do it, plus a lot of self-reassuring and instructional phone calls from my mom, i finally decided to attempt it.

Success! This was the most yummy one pot meal I’ve ever made. For the chicken, I used skinless chicken drumstick pieces. For the vegetables, I used eggplant, peas, and carrots. I guess this one was more Arab style then desi style because I put vegetables in it and toasted nuts on top. With some raisins and shredded carrots, it could be an Afghani murgh pilau. The possiblities are endless!

This works well with any pizza dough you freeze. The process is simple – roll it out, fill it, fold it, crimp it, and bake it!

Chipotle Chicken and (Turkey) Bacon Calzones

I don’t remember the exact recipe, so we’re just gonna go with some approximation.

1. Marinate chicken in chipotle-in-adobo. Grill. Cube.
2. Mix ricotta with mozzarella and dried herbs.
3. Crisp (turkey) bacon in a pan and chop.
4. Roll out pizza dough till it’s pretty thin. Put down the ricotta, then (turkey) bacon, then chicken. Put some more mozzarella on top.
5. Wet the edges of the dough. Fold over the dough and crimp the edges. Brush the top with egg wash and sprinkle some Parmesan on top.
6. Bake at 350 for about 20 minutes, until golden brown on top.
7. Serve with tomato sauce.

So Angela and I spent a whole afternoon emailing back and forth about these toppings. We may or may not have been at work at the time.

We had four types of pizzas.

1. Plain tomato sauce and mixed cheese
2. Roasted vegetable and mozzarella
3. Chipotle chicken and pineapple with colby jack and cheddar
4. White pizza with onions, tomatoes, olives, topped with arugula and drizzled with balsamic vinegar (o.m.g.)

Firstly, you roll the dough out or spread it with your hands. If you overwork it at this point, the dough might start getting an attitude, like 3-year olds who just won’t move, no matter how much you try to drag them out of their chair. If this starts to happen, just leave it alone and let it sit for a few minutes to let it relax (this usually works with 3 year olds too), and then it’ll roll out nicely again.

Angela says: Heat oven to 415°F and grease a pizza pan. Stretch the pizza out by hand, fitting it to the pan. [me: for some extra oomph, we sprinkled the dough with garlic powder and herbs before baking.] Bake the dough for 7 or 8 minutes or until it turns a little brown. Add toppings and bake for another 8 to 10 minutes.

All the toppings are pretty self explanatory. The roasted veggie pizza had balsamic-roasted red onions, eggplant, bell pepper, tomatoes, and mushrooms. I’ll elaborate on my two favorite pizzas in detail.

Chipotle chicken and pineapple pizza with colby jack and cheddar

1. Chicken: Overnight, marinate chicken in a mixture of pureed chipotle-in-adobo, cajun seasoning, and ranch dressing. Grill and cut into chunks.
2. Sauce: Into normal marinara sauce, mix in a bit of pureed chipotle-in-adobo, as much spice as you enjoy
3. Top pre-baked pizza dough with chipotle sauce, chicken, little bits of pineapple, and cheese. Something tangy would work best here – the bag I had was a mixture of colby jack and cheddar. Pepper jack would work great too.

White pizza with onions, tomatoes, olives, topped with arugula and drizzled with balsamic vinegar
Pictures are in Lightbox – click the first on the left to start the slideshow.

1. Prebake a pizza crust.
2. Spread on top of the pizza dough: very thinly sliced red or white onion, thinly sliced tomatoes, chopped olives, cheese (parmesan or some Italian blend), and parsley. Bake till cheese is melty and delicious.
3. When it comes out of the oven, top the pizza with fresh arugula. Put pizza back in the oven to wilt the arugula a little.
4. Before serving, drizzle with balsamic vinegar.

I’ve wanted to know how to make homemade pizza for a very, very long time. I was too chicken to try it myself though because frankly, yeast scares me a little. I scoped out my target carefully. I narrowed it down to Mario Batali, because he just cracks me up, and Angela, because she used to bring delicious looking homemade pizza for lunches. Mario was busy when I called, so I asked Angela for help.

Now, to give you a little background, Angela and I both love to cook. In fact, we spent much of our 8:45 am Professional Responsibility class talking about food over G-chat (while sitting next to each other). But, the first time we actually got together to cook something……the Infamous Brownies happened. They were…..well, quite possibly the worst thing I’ve ever baked. We won’t talk about it any more than that. It’s quite traumatic.

BUT since then, the score is in our favor. Food – 1. Angela and Taiyyaba – 3 (one for the pizza, one for the focaccia, and one for the calzones with the leftover dough – coming later!)

I told Taiyyaba that making pizza is unpredictable and all improvisation. This is especially true when you forget to bring the trusted recipe with you for Girls Only Pizza Night. I decided to wing it.

Also, I always have trouble making a really great batch of dough when it is humid outside – it gets icky and sticky. Naturally, I was worried when I noticed the weather that day.

In short, we had all the odds stacked against us as we made the dough.

I went with some colleagues today on a tour of the Raleigh Women’s Correctional Facility. It was one of the most “mixed feelings” experiences I’d ever had.

I walked in there having decided two things: first, that I’d smile at every inmate I made eye contact with; second, that I’d say “Wa alaikum assalam” to any of the Muslim inmates who called out to greet me (if there were any). I also was a bit apprehensive because…well….it’s a prison.

I had done some research for work about women’s correctional facilities, but I still wasn’t really sure what to expect. TV skews your perceptions of things – and indeed, the first thing the Deputy Warden, the two caseworkers, and the officer who walked us around said was – “This is nothing like what you see on TV.”

My mom and I were driving home from somewhere and realized that we were both really hungry. Mama started telling me about this spicy, saucy, ranch shrimp wrap she had in Mexico. So, of course, we had to recreate it when we got home!

We made a chipotle ranch sauce for the crispy shrimp and made a sweet relish to balance the smoky-spiciness. I really recommend the arugula instead of normal lettuce because the pepperiness goes well with the spice!

Frozen popcorn shrimp
Chipotle peppers in adobo sauce
Ranch dressing
One bell pepper, red or yellow
One mango
Fresh cilantro
Tortilla wraps

1. Bake the shrimp according to package directions.
2. Puree the chipotle and adobo till smooth. Mix with any amount of ranch dressing until it is as spicy as you want. We mixed about 2 1/2 tablespoons with half a bottle of ranch dressing.
3. Dice the bellpepper finely, and do the same with the mango. Really, you could use any sweet fruit here – pineapple, peach, even jicama. Add some finely chopped cilantro, and add cracked black pepper and a hint of salt.
4. Toss the shrimp with the sauce and mix to coat.
5. Put down some arugula on a warm tortilla. Top with the creamy, spicy shrimp, and then with the yellow pepper and mango relish. Wrap up and eat!