By Emily Moore, JTNews Correspondent
How do you begin to explore a cuisine whose geographic area is at least a dozen times the size of France, includes most of Italy, all of Spain and Morocco, much of Portugal, Tunisia, Algeria and Greece, the entirety of Iraq and Iran, most of Turkey and has influences from India and northern Europe?
To give this cuisine historical perspective, you must really begin the tale more than 2600 years ago to continue exploring its vibrancy and savor it up to today.
The ancient Babylonian King Nebuchad-nezzar, who by destroying the First Temple in Jerusalem and exiling the Jews to Babylon, near present-day Baghdad, really kicked off the tale of the Sephardim. When King Cyrus of Persia conquered Babylon 50 years later and allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem, some decided to stay and live and cook in the Persian style. Thus began 26 centuries of Sephardic cuisine.
These resettled Jews did not name themselves until much later, when the Inquisition forced Spanish Jews to flee to all regions of the Mediterranean, North Africa and the countries of the Ottoman Empire — some even went as far north as Scandinavia for a time. Because the Jews had held influential and elevated positions in Spanish culture, they rose quickly to the top of many professions in their new environments and were given the respected name of “Sephardim” for Sepharad, the Hebrew word for Spain.
Many Sephardim of the time, including Maimonides, became court physicians, influencing the nobility in various regions with their Sephardic perspective on eating to promote health.
To help me tell a tiny bit of the vast and delicious story of Sephardic cooking, I was lucky enough to be introduced to two of the most delightful, knowledgeable and humble cooks in a community of wonderful cooks, and they hail from opposite geographic ends of the Sephardic “empire,”
Lily Golon comes from Iraq and considers the influences on her family’s cooking to be more from the East than from the West: it is more Syrian, Persian and Indian than Spanish or Moroccan. The flavors, she says, are delicate; not too much spice or heat, and everything must be balanced in the dish. India contributes what she calls the “yellow spices”: turmeric, cumin and curry — and a proclivity for onions, but not much garlic. Lily’s mother’s and grandmother’s sambousak are first cousins to Indian samosas. Spinach borekas, filled pastries made with an oil dough, are rolled and stretched so thin it’s almost phyllo. Lamb kibbehs, made of rough or fine bulghur wheat, are shaped into torpedoes or pressed flat before frying.
Once, when she went home, Lily said, her mother made some wonderful yaprakes (like dolmas) stuffed with rice —“everything has rice,” she says — cardamom and turmeric, Persian preserved lemon, parsley and grated beets and carrots; sometimes eggplant slices or cabbage leaves or peppers are used instead of vine leaves for the wrappers. Rice is made into pilau with lima beans and dill or red lentils, onion, cumin and tomato sauce.
Lilly makes a basic dough for small, triangular pastries called pasteles and for the half-moon shaped sambousak that are filled with spiced meat, chick peas and onions or, as a sweet, with walnuts and sugar.
Almost all Sephardic and Oriental Jewish dough is made only with oil, flour, salt and water. Because the oil separates out of the dough when it sits, it should be made up and used immediately. Lilly uses margarine — or butter for non-meat fillings — and adds baking powder or yeast to lighten the dough. Because of the leavening, this dough isn’t used for making the leaf-like pastry for borekas — it won’t roll that thin.
My other charming guide in the world of Sephardic cooking is Raquel Benguigui, who grew up in a small Spanish town on the coast of Morocco, in the midst of a thriving Sephardic community. The dishes of her past and present are very much from the western regions of the Sephardic experience: hers is a city that has seen Spanish Jews living in it for centuries and their cooking has taken on a Moroccan perspective over time.
She married and lived in Spain for a time, and said that the traditional ways are much more alive in her hometown of Melilla (me-lee-yah) than in modern Spain. In Melilla, “convenience” kosher foods are those that are baked by a neighbor in her home and sold to families for the Sabbath; in Spain today, kosher baked goods can be bought mass produced and have nothing of the delicacy and care of real Sephardic pastries.
What treasures there are in the savory dishes from Spanish Morocco! Raquel has a cookbook published by an intercultural council in Melilla —many diverse cultures such as Islamic, Hindu and Christian live together in the city; their proximity has giving rise to this council — and I’ve had the privilege of translating some of the recipes.
Adafina, like Ashkenazi cholent, is made with potatoes, garbanzos, meat on the bone, eggs in the shell (like huevos haminados), saffron and a whole head of garlic. Before cooking, a meat loaf made with chopped meat, rice and spices is fried in a coating of egg and bread crumbs, added to the stew, and the whole pot is allowed to cook on Friday for Shabbat.
A fragrant fish dish is made with a whole head of garlic, a few red peppers, and oil and cilantro; “meatballs” of fish are flavored with tomato, onion, garlic, parsley, cilantro, cumin, red pepper, saffron and bay. Cucuruchos rellenos are little pastry horns, handmade and filled with paté, tuna or caviar moistened with a little mayonnaise.
Tortillas are made as savory puddings with potatoes, carrots, garlic, eggs, spices and nutmeg. Flans are more like spiced pates made with squash (or other vegetables), bread and eggs.
Sambousak
Basic pastry dough:
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup butter or margarine
1/2 cup warm water
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. baking powder
3-2/3 cup all-purpose flour
Mix together the flour and baking powder.
Blend in the margarine or butter till the mixture is like coarse meal (a food processor works well).
In a large bowl, beat together the water, oil and salt, using a fork.
Continue beating with a fork while mixing in the flour. Switch to your hand when the mixture becomes too stiff to stir.
Don’t overwork the dough; stop mixing as soon as the dough holds together.
Meat filling:
1 onion, chopped
3 tbsp. oil
1 lb. ground lamb or beef
(or leftover cooked meat)
1 tsp. ground cardamom
1 tsp. ground turmeric
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/4 tsp. white pepper
1 tsp. salt or to taste
3 tbsp. chopped parsley
Cook the onion in oil till soft.
Add the meat and spices and cook until no pink remains.
Drain off the excess fat. Add parsley.
Cool slightly.
To shape and fill
1 egg beaten with 1 tsp water
Roll half the dough out at a time. Roll into a circle with a thickness of about 1/8” or thinner. Using a round cutter, a jar lid or a glass (be careful!) with a 3” diameter, cut as many circles as you can from the dough.
Re-roll any scraps of dough, being careful not to work it too much.
Place about 2 tsp. of filling in the center of each 3” circle and brush the edges with beaten egg.
Fold the circles in half to form half-moons, enclosing the filling. Press the edges together to seal.
Brush the tops with beaten egg and place on a lightly greased or parchment-lined baking sheet.
Bake at 350º for 20 minutes or until golden brown.
Serve hot or at room temperature.
Moving on to sweets, not only are oranges candied in sugar syrup, but tiny eggplants scented with ginger, cinnamon, clove and black pepper also see a similar preparation. This truly is food fit for kings!
Besitos de Coco
Coconut kisses filled with chocolate — I hope you enjoy them!
1 lb. shredded coconut
3 egg whites
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
3 oz bittersweet or semisweet chocolate
Shredded coconut for finishing, about 4-5 oz.
Combine the sugar and the water in a saucepan and stir to dissolve.
Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer 10 minutes. Set aside to cool.
In a large bowl with a whisk, or with an electric mixer, beat the egg whites till soft peaks form.
Add the coconut and mix well, then knead to a smooth, thick batter.
With moist hands, form into uniform balls the size of small walnuts and flatten to form slightly oval shapes.
Place on a cookie sheet lined with lightly greased aluminum foil, about 1-1/2” apart.
Bake at 325º for about 15 minutes; they should be firm but not golden.
Set aside to cool.
Melt the chocolate over hot, not-boiling water.
When the cookies cool, spread chocolate on the bottom of one and sandwich it with the bottom of another (rounded tops to the outside).
Once the sandwiches are made, dip the cookies quickly in the sugar syrup and dust all over with coconut.
Store tightly covered for 1 to 2 weeks.
Emily Moore is a local chef with 30 years experience in her field, including 13 years in local and regional restaurants. Her business, Emily’s Kitchen, provides culinary services to all facets of the food industry and catering to the Jewish community. She also currently teaches culinary arts at Edmonds Community College.