Debbie Kwiatoski's Blog

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

For some, the first sounds of Christmas carols in the air, the first light snow, or even the lines toddlers and young children - their eyes bright and hopeful with the expectation of "really meeting Santa" - lining up to sit on some strange guy's lap mean that it's nearly Christmas again. For me...and I suspect that for many, many others...it's more the strange, exotic smells emanating from the kitchen.

In our family, certain senior relatives had distinct specialties that would mainly appear on our family's holiday table this time of year.

From Grandma came a flaky paklava, dripping with sweet syrup and clarified butter; a few bites could send you to another place and time...too many could send you out for a long walk! Aunt Rose's specialty were her famous "fish cookies"...no, not created from actual fish - they got their name from the carefully snipped "scales" that ran their buttery length. My brother Rob and his children contributed the chereog, Mom would make a special cinnamon coffee cake, and I would bring whatever I felt like that year - often a rich yogurt-based, syrup-soaked semolina cake, served with kaimak.

I cannot even begin to count the calories consumed over those days....but in a family, and in a shared cultural memory where simply having enough to eat to remain alive for another day, counting calories belongs in another place...another time...another meaning.

Grandparents and aunties have so long ago passed on, but before they left us, thank God they left us with so many memories...and the recipes to allow us to continue keeping Christmas in our own family way...and through these foods and old stories, they are here with us again.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

When my father's parents retired, they moved into a house that was one door down from my mother's parents. It wasn't that they were the best of friends (although they did get on fairly well), it was just one of those happy accidents that - when Dad's parents had to leave the manse my grandfather's church had provided for them when he was a serving pastor and find a home to live in in their retirement - the perfect place just happened to be on the market...and it was just down from the house where Mom's parents had lived for as long as I could remember.

And so began the "Great Garden Rivalry," though it was, albeit, a friendly one as these things go. For years, my maternal grandparents had turned most of their ample backyard into a garden that supplied fresh vegetables for the table and winter pantry. While my paternal grandparents had had to limit their earlier gardening to a much smaller plot behind the urban manse, they, too, now had big horticultural plans for the new place.

That first spring, both of them spent long hours out in the backyard, double-digging what had been a passable lawn and turning it into soil ready to plant with tomatoes, peppers, beans, strawberries and such. When they were finished, there was nothing untilled but a small strip by the porch for a picnic table and some flowers - and the section where an ancient lilac tree remained undisturbed.

From that year on - until no one on either side could still raise a hoe or handle a trowel, who could grow the biggest tomato or who produced the most beans was the stuff that kept the world spinning through the seasons.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

Ok, I admit it. It might seem a bit strange to be talking about pickling small jars of fresh garden produce for winter storage when the soil has finally warmed in the early summer air - and the vegetable plants are just starting to show a bit of promise. But that is exactly the right time to be thinking about such things.

It's sort of like all those bedtime stories we would hear as children...about the wise squirrel (or mouse) who would gather food all summer and fall so as to have enough to eat all winter. This is the time of year to be that "wise squirrel" and to be thinking about what you want to put away in the fall, as you plant your spring garden.

For me, tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, peppers, eggplants and all sorts of squash are right up there on my "must plant" list. These, along with onions, cauliflower and a few other things that don't grow well where I live, are "must haves" now - for as trhe season progresses, they will become the main ingredients of dishes ranging from tabouleh to dolma; homemade pickles to various soups and stews. But, if fail to plant them now - I will be like the "foolish" squirrel, regretting it later - and visiting the Farmers' Market!

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

I just finished posting an article about camels - as a food source in the Middle East and North Africa. When I first read that camel meat was especially popular during Ramadan for the evening meals that are allowed during this great Islamic month of fasting, prayer and contemplation, my first feeling was that kind of sick feeling you get when you read about animals that (in the West) are more suited for pets or circuses, than for dinner menus. But that really is a pretty ethnocentric reaction.

What we eat (or don't eat) and why we eat it (or don't eat it) as a culture is a incredibly interesting topic -and one that would have to be dealt with in a format far larger than this blog or even an article posting. But, basically, when I was in university studying anthropology (which is why I'm a writer today, with no "repectable trade"...) one big point about this topic that stuck was that the narrow band of animals commonly eaten in any culture traditionally falls outside of the group of cuddly creatures we keep around the house and also outside of that group we deem to be truly wild- in other words, we eat domesticated livestock. And in the Middle East, that means camels. By the way, I've yet to find a camel recipe I actually think I could get past my lips....wonder what they says about my own ethnocentricities...

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

I've been reading an excellent book recently, "Miriam's Kitchen," by Elizabeth Ehrlich ( Viking; 1997). The author describes her grandmothers' kitchens as "busy, onion-scented, Yiddish- accented" refuges, where she grew up, learning far more about life than about the intricacies of Kosher cuisine.

As an adult, with a growing family of her own, she developed a deeper appreciation of her own roots - her family's extended history and how she grew into the person she was to become - by going back to these recipes and learning from her mother-in-law how to cook traditional Jewish foods. In the process, she also leanred a great deal about herself.

It's not a cookbook, but a book of recipes...recipes for living. Recipes for learning to make the connections between one's history and ethnicity and food.

Miriam, her mother-in-law was a survivor of the Jewish Holocaust. As an old woman - and immigrant to America - she carried her culture and her childhood memories of family within her traditional dishes. As the book notes, each day Miriam cooked her family's meals, certain that her work creating them mattered in ways that went far beyond the filling of collective stomachs...they mattered in ways that sustained her family's souls, as well.

It's a terrific book - if you see it on the bookshop shelves, pick it up.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

There is a tradition of hospitality in Middle Eastern homes that runs deep – as deep as the Quran, actually. There are whole passages exhorting believers to be excellent hosts – but not to engage in conspicuous consumption. In short, generosity is a major way to grow in prestige in your community, just as a sure way to lose the admiration of your friends and neighbors in through stinginess.

That being said, there is also an intricate set of manners to be observed on the part of both the host and the guest. When offered food, for example, it is polite to refuse the gesture twice – and then to graciously accept it the third time it is offered. For his part, it is also expected that, when offering food, it should be offered three times, with the expectation that the first two times, it will be refused.

The idea of creating a welcoming environment with comfortable surroundings and good conversation and company is equally important to the whole business of being a good host. As the Syrian proverb says, "Good cooking is only half of hospitality."

The "other half’ is taking the time with your guests to gossip, tell jokes and engage in the fine art of conversation. When you think about it, isn’t this exactly the kind of atmosphere in which to enjoy an afternoon of Mezes and Turkish Coffee…or possibly indulging in some excellent Arak over a heated game of Tavbli?

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

I’ve gotten a couple of questions from readers regarding where they could find Armenian food…or Lebanese food or Syrian food in their town or city. The short answer is that it can be a challenge – although every year, it seems like that challenge gets a bit easier. No matter where you live, here’s the first thing to do: Don’t think in terms of a specific ethnicity when you’re browsing the phone book – or your favorite search engine. Think "Middle Eastern Food," think "Mediterranean Food"…You can even find Middle Eastern kinds of dishes in a restaurant specializing in Balkan cuisine, or Afghani food …or even Georgian (The former Soviet Republic, not the southern-fried state in the U.S.).

The bottom line is that the ancient cuisine of the Middle East is not all that dissimilar from country to country (except, of course for some significant religious food taboos that I talk about in other blogs and articles). For example, I once enjoyed incredible kebabs in a "hole in the wall" Bulgarian grill in Washington D.C. (Bulgaria was once part of the Ottoman Empire). I’ve also had amazing pilaf in a Georgian café and Greek restaurants, generally, have excellent food that is common throughout the Middle East, as well.

The moral of the story? Get out there – and experiment! Don’t assume that because you can’t find " Armenian" or "Syrian" or whatever in the advertising that you can’t sample great Middle Eastern- inspired dishes inside. An "alternative moral" is to maybe try to create some of these great dishes from the recipes in suite101!

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

When you think about it, nothing spreads new foods and ways of preparing it around the world like religious zeal. We can look at it many ways, of course, but since I’m supposed to be blogging about Middle Eastern cuisine, let’s look at it in terms of the interplay between Islam, Judaism and Christianity in the Fertile Crescent. (By the way, I have always loved what that old term for the region evokes. You can almost smell the ripening grain, the baking breads and vine ripe fruits….)

Anyway, back to religion. The years 750 – 1258 marked the Abbasid Dynasty or what has commonly been called the "Golden Age of Islam." It was also during this period that we see both a green revolution in agriculture in the Middle East and the development of the quintessential Islamic Cuisine from the blending of the earlier traditions of Arab, Iranian, Turkish and even Mediterranean elements. In other words, as Islam developed and spread throughout the greater region, the food culture followed suit. During this time, we also see the creation of the first cookbooks – in Arabic.

Then, from 1096 – to around 1291, we have the period of the Crusades…all seven of them. The Europeans brought more than their brand of Christianity to the (now) Islamic countries - they brought many of their plants and the recipes and cooking techniques that went along with them. Just as importantly, the Crusaders returned to their homelands with new foods and cooking techniques.

Want more? Look at ways in which a uniquely Israeli cuisine/culture is being created – partly from the Azkanazi traditions that are pretty European partly from the North African Sephardic foodways and partly from traditions that have been part of the Middle East generally for thousands of years.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

There is probably no greater influence upon the cuisine and eating habits of any culture than religion. No, you say? The greatest influence for what a culture eats haw got to start with its geography? With its relationship to the wider world? With its level of general cultural achievement?

Consider this: Within the Middle East, there are deserts and mountains, as well as temperate zones. There is no water in places – and lots in others. The Middle East has had an active trade dialogue with the wider world since ancient times and many foods and dishes have been exchanged in that dialogue. Also, the earliest agriculture was found when some of the hunters and gatherers in the Levant discovered they could settle down and build cities if they farmed the land and raised domesticated livestock.

So, why do the dietary habits of Muslims, Jews and Christians living together for thousands of years in that area of the world differ from each other in some significant ways? Religion.

While it’s true that portions of the Torah, the Koran and the Bible, in places, all draw from the same sources, and it’s true that climate and geography played a role in food taboos, as well, differences in what may be eaten – and when – are still striking.

Check out a series of articles I’ve written on Suite101 for the lowdown on Islam, Judaism, and Christianity and its relationship to food and religious food culture observances.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

Love the idea of making paklava, but unsure of your ability to work with the delicate, paper-thin sheets of phyllo dough that comprise the rich dessert? Love the taste of paklava, but wary of all the calories the syrupy, buttery sweet contains?

Have I got a treat for you!

I don’t really have a traditional name for these light "cookies," but they are a family favorite in our house – easy and quick to make, and not as fattening as paklava, but quite similar in the way they taste.

Here’s how to make them:

1. Take 8 – 10 sheets of phyllo dough (more or less, it doesn’t actually matter) and keeping them rolled up, "chiffonade" them, making cuts every quarter inch or so down the length of the rolled dough. Then, "fluff" them to separate the long fettuccine-like strips, gathering them into a big pile.
2. Next, melt about 2 Tablespoons of butter, and SLOWLY mix it into the strips, fluffing with your fingers, to keep the strips from clumping.
3. Taking small handfuls from the pile, mound them onto a baking sheet to form little "nests."
4. In a food processor, finely grind about 1 cup of walnuts (or any nuts) with about 1/3 cup of sugar and 3 Tablespoons of a mixture of cinnamon, clove and nutmeg.
5. Heavily sprinkle this nut mixture over the tops of each of the nests.
6. Bake at 350 degree F. for about 8-10 minutes – keep checking – until the cookies are browned lightly – but not burnt.

These cookies are so much lighter than traditional paklava, but the taste could pleasantly fool you!(They also taste great beneath a scoop of vanilla ice cream).

For a great recipe to make the "real" Paklava, check out Paklava , and for more things to do with Phyllo Dough, check out Spinach and Cheese Pie

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

When it comes to Middle Eastern cooking, Basmati rice seems to work best for savory kinds of dishes, like pilafs and dolmas, and short grained, sticker varieties work best for sweet dishes, like rice pudding. Technically, Basmati – fragrant, slightly nutty tasting long grained rice – is not actually grown in the Middle East, but in certain sections of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. But the basmati-like varieties that are grown in many parts of the Middle East are not grown in sufficient quantities to export and pretty much stay a staple of the small regions in which they are grown.

Although it yields higher crops than equal areas of wheat or barley, both of the latter grains are used more widely in Middle Eastern cooking than is rice – but rice holds a special place in the cuisine, nonetheless. For one thing, it has been widely reported that long grain rice, cooked simply with clarified butter, was one of the Prophet Muhammad’s favorite dishes.

But, although it has been grown in marshy area of Anatolia, Egypt, Iraq, Iran and Syria for thousands of years, there has rarely been so much produced that it ever became an everyday food. Instead, cooked with everything from butter to sour cherries; orange peel and mulberries to tomatoes, traditionally it usually featured, mounded in great pyramids, on tables at the wedding feast or other special occasions.

Today, rice production is up in areas that are able to grow it – and a wider global economy has made it pretty widely available throughout the entire Middle East. In the 20th century, into today, it has become more popular as an everyday dish.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

There are paw prints running from the back door through the kitchen to the living room – a suspicious brownish green mixture of mud and God knows what else. The cats beg to go outside, but scratch wildly to come back in not a minute or two later…opting instead for the sunny window rather than the real deal. It gets dark too early and light too late. The ground freezes, and then thaws and heaves, sticking to everything passing through it.

In the pot on the stove is yet another pottage of root vegetables, stewing with some sort of meat. Don’t get me wrong, I love carrots and parsnips; potatoes, leeks, onions and fennel in its time. But it’s officially "Janu-Feb" in my soul and my whole being yearns for a really fresh tabbouleh, a bowl of cold jagik ….or even just a fresh strawberry or stalks of asparagus from my own garden.

Instead, I pull a package of well-sealed dolma from the freezer and dream of Spring.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

Looking through a stack of old photographs found when we cleaned out my grandmother’s home, I noticed one faded sepia shot of two young girls sitting by a large outdoor, beehive oven.

"What was that about," I asked my father, knowing it would jar a memory.

"Oh, we used to send our bread and some other baked goods there to be cooked," he replied.

In the small settlement where my father grew up, indoor ovens in individual homes were a rarity. Instead, in small communities without a commercial baker , there would be a large clay oven in the middle of the town for housewives to use communally. In larger towns, the local baker would – for a small fee – bake the family’s cheoreg, souberoeg or other baked dish.

In many ways, it wasn’t a bad arrangement. The communal oven gave the community a nice meeting place, my father remembered. Usually, he added, the breads and other dishes that required baking would be done on some sort of loose weekly/hourly schedule.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

There is something about grilling an eggplant that adds a special, slightly smoky, taste to whatever dish you create with it. Depending upon whether you intend to puree it for a baba ganoush or use the grilled slices in a vegetarian pita wrap, the cooking technique varies slightly, but both ways are incredibly easy.

Grilling a whole eggplant is a simple process, done right on the stove burner. Gas is best – but you can also get quite good results from an electric range. Basically, just wash the eggplant and place it on a hot burner, skin and all. You need to pay attention to it, as the process goes quickly. Using tongs, turn the eggplant over to a new section every few minutes or so – when the skin actually begins to burn and smoke. Once the entire eggplant has been well scorched, and is quite hot, take it off the heat and put it into a small paper bag, wrapping it tightly to catch the steam. Let it sit until it is cool to touch. The inside should now be soft and cooked, as well and the smoky flavor dispersed throughout.

Grilling slices is just as easy. Slice the eggplant (skin and all) at an angle, creating slices that are about ½ inch thick. Drizzle a hot grilling pan with olive oil. Salt and pepper the slices and lay them in the pan, giving each side about a minute or two to cook. Remove to an absorbent paper to cool a bit and then wrap up in a pita with grilled onions, red and green peppers, roasted garlic, some mild cheese of any sort and dress with more extra virgin olive oil, whipped with some lemon juice and freshly ground black pepper.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

Although I live in New York, I have always wanted to grow a fig tree. This quest began in when I realized how incredibly delicious – and expensive – fresh figs were to buy. The problem is, they are really far better suited to the Mediterranean or the Middle East than they are to Upstate New York.

It’s not the first plant I’ve tried to push to its hardiness limits. After a lot of research, I finally found one variety – the Brown Turkey Fig – that will grow in Zone 6, if care is taken to keep it away from the worst of the winter storms. There are other varieties, but I settled on the Brown Turkey, mainly because I actually found one at a local nursery.

So, with visions of fresh figs, and notes on all the recipes I could create out of them dancing in my head, I planted it out two years ago. I took care to plant it in a pot – as opposed to the ground- and to place it in a spot where it would get as much sun and warmth as our property gives.

It actually grew well that first summer, going so far as to even bring forth a single fig (which, of course, a passing deer ate one night).

As winter approached, we decided to bring it into my office for the winter – just in case. It wintered over well, but a surprise snow spring snowstorm froze it down to its roots when we put it back out into the garden too prematurely the next spring. Yet, a healthy sport sprang from its based the next year and has done well. This year, we left it in a sheltered location outside. We’ll see how it does this year.

Posted by Debbie Kwiatoski

This Sunday is what in some cultures is called “Three Kings Day,” and in other cultures is called “Old Christmas.” The Christian populations in the Middle East mainly fall into the group of people who celebrate Old Christmas – which, I guess, means that just about the time that the rest of the world is thinking about getting down the tree, packing up the ornaments and polishing off the rest of the fruitcake and leftovers, Orthodox Christians of all ethnicities are just warming up.

For 30 days, the custom is not to eat meat, but to serve ancient dishes with ingredients of things like beans and chickpeas, fruits, vegetables and rice. Now is the time for the Advent fast to be broken – and to break out the special foods of the season. On Christmas Eve – at midnight – every light in the house is traditionally extinguished and then the lights are turned back to symbolize the coming of the new light of the world. Then, the feasting and the gaiety begins. Lamb, fowl (in America, turkey), and all sorts of wonderful dishes find their way to the table. Friends and family come from all over to exchange presents, to eat, to sing to dance the old dances. It really is a wonderful time.