TartQueen's Kitchen

Sayadieh (الصيادية), or Fish with Rice, was a staple meal for my sisters & me as we were growing up.  It’s a wonderful and simple amalgam of white fish, rice, onion, saffron, and lemon that we would eat until we were in food coma.  Two of my aunts ( عمـاتـي), Ahlam and Layla, considered to be the best cooks in the family, make sublime Sayadieh.  However, the best I have ever eaten is from my mom. I still don’t know what she does, but Mom’s Sayadieh is, and I’m not exaggerating, ethereal.

I’m not sure what the origin of this dish is, but it does figure prominently in Lebanese cuisine. Like any other regional dish, it has its variations – with caramelized onions, with a spice blend (or, specific individual spices), pine nuts, almonds, lemon… The list goes on.  The two must-have ingredients, however, are, of course, fish and rice.  The fish is always a firm-fleshed white fish (i.e. tilapia, haddock, cod) and the rice is always long-grain white.  Some recipes have the fish cooked separately from the rice while others have them cooked together.

This is very close to the recipe I grew up with.  The fish is marinated in lemon, lightly breaded, browned, and then cooked with the rice.  The dish is usually served with a tahineh-radish sauce (recipe follows).

 

 

1 lb. white fish

1/4 c. lemon juice

1/2 tsp. salt

flour

2 c. chicken broth or water

1 c. clam juice, fish stock, or water

1/2 tsp. saffron (opt.)

1/4 c. olive oil

1 med. onion, diced

1 1/2 c. rice

1/2 tsp. cumin

Salt & pepper to taste

3/4 cup pine nuts or slivered almonds, lightly toasted

 

 

On a large plate or in a large bowl, carefully toss the fish with the lemon juice and a good pinch of salt.  Let the fish marinate for at least 1/2 hour, tossing if needed to make sure the pieces are evenly marinating.

Meanwhile, if you are using saffron, heat the stocks or water in a separate small saucepan with the saffron.  As soon as it comes to a boil, remove the saucepan from the heat and set aside. If you aren’t using saffron, you can skip this step. (But, it doesn’t hurt to have the liquid hot or at least warm before you add it for the final cooking.)

Remove the fish from the lemon juice and lightly dredge it in the flour, carefully shaking off any excess.  Save the lemon juice.

In a large saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil over medium heat.  Once the oil is hot, place the fish in the oil and let brown. (You may need to do this in batches.)  You don’t need to let the fish cook all the way through, just enough for the flour to brown.  Take care not to try to turn the fish too soon or the coating will stick to the bottom; the fish will let you know when it’s ready to turn.

If there is any burned flour, take the saucepan off the heat and carefully wipe it out with a thick layer of paper towels.

When each batch of fish is done, take it out of the saucepan and set aside on a plate.

Add the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil to the saucepan, turn the heat up to medium-high, and add the onions.  Saute the onions for 5 – 7 minutes, or until they begin to soften and become translucent.

Add the rice and saute another 2 – 3 minutes.

Add the cumin, salt, and pepper.  Saute another 2 – 3 minutes. (You want to be careful how much salt you add, especially if you are using commercially made stock – those are loaded with salt.)

Spread the onion-rice mixture into a fairly even layer on the bottom of the saucepan.  Lay the fish on top.

Carefully pour over the stock or water and reserved lemon juice (from the marinating).  Bring the liquid to a boil, reduce the heat to low, and cover the saucepan.

Let the Sayadieh cook for 25 – 30 minutes, or until all the rice is cooked and the liquid has been absorbed.  (Occasionally, some of the rice at the very top will be undercooked.  If this happens, quickly pour another 1/4 cup broth or water over the top and quickly put the lid back on.  Let the rice cook for another 5 minutes and it should be cooked through.)

Sprinkle with the browned pine nuts or almonds and serve with the Tahineh-Radish Sauce.

 

Tahineh-Radish Sauce

 

 

 

1 c. tahineh (make sure it is thoroughly mixed; it will separate in the jar)

1 bunch radishes, washed and trimmed

1 c. chopped parsley

2 tbsp. lemon juice, or to taste

Water, as needed

Salt to taste

 

Place a small strainer over a medium bowl and use a small-holed (i.e. fine) grater to shred the radishes.

Once you have shredded all the radishes, press down on the shreds in the strainer to get out as much of the liquid as you can.  Remove the strainer from the bowl, pour off the liquid, and place the shredded radishes back in the bowl.

Add the tahineh, lemon juice, and a good pinch of salt.  Mix.  The tahineh will start to thicken due to the lemon juice (it’s an acid-base reaction; chemistry!).

Add water until the sauce loosens up and becomes a smooth consistency.  Adjust the seasoning.

Once the  sauce has smoothed out and it is the consistency you like, stir in the parsley.

 

Serve with the Sayadieh.

 

Sahtein! صحتين!

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the ongoing informal series of foods from my childhood, today, I’m going to introduce you to Mujadarah.

Admittedly, this wasn’t my favorite dish growing up.  I usually picked at it or ate it with lots of salad so I could get it down.  But, as happens with most of us, my palate changed and discovered that I, even if I don’t love Mujadarah, I like it.  It must have been the lentils.

The first record of mujadara dates back to  1226, in the Iraqi cookbook Kitab al-Tabikh by al-Baghdadi. It was known as “peasant food”.  Mujaddara is the Arabic word for “pockmarked”; the lentils among the rice resemble pockmarks. Generally consisting of rice, lentils, sometimes burghul (#3 or #4 coarse grind), and, very occasionally, meat, it was served during celebrations. Without meat, it was a medieval Arab dish commonly consumed by the poor. Because of its importance in the diet, a saying in the Eastern Arab world is, “A hungry man would be willing to sell his soul for a dish of mujaddara.”

Arab Christians traditionally eat mujaddara during Lent.  The dish is also popular among Jewish communities of Middle Eastern origin, in particular those of Syrian and Egyptian backgrounds; it is sometimes nicknamed “Esau’s favourite”. Jews traditionally ate it twice a week: hot on Thursday evening, and cold on Sunday.

(Some information from wikipedia and Rose Water & Orange Blossoms)

If the recipe looks somewhat familiar to you, I’ve made a dish similar before, Koshari.  The biggest difference is that Koshari has chick peas and pasta and is generally served with a tomato-cumin sauce.

 

A few notes:

1.  You can make this dish with white rice, brown rice, or burghul wheat. If you use burghul, be sure to use a #3 (medium coarse) or #4 (coarse) grind. If you use burghul, it will be the standard 2:1 ratio you would use for white rice.

2.  You can use either brown or green lentils.  Don’t use red.  They cook too soft for this dish.

3.  My mom uses just cinnamon as the spice (other than salt & pepper).  Play with the spices and come up with a combination you like.

4.  While some do make this dish with meat, I’ve always eaten it as a vegetarian meal.  If you want to add meat, follow the meat cooking instructions for Kidra.

 

 

1 c. brown or green lentils

2 c. white or brown long-grain rice

2 lb. onions, cut in half and sliced thin

4 c. water or broth (5 c. if using brown rice)

2 tsp. allspice

1 tsp. cumin

2 tsp. salt

1 1/2 tsp. pepper

1/4 c. + 2 tbsp. olive oil

 

1.  Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat.  Add the rice and saute for 1 – 2 minutes.

Add the salt, pepper, allspice, and cumin.  Cook until the spices begin to give off a fragrance, about 1 minute.

Add the water or broth, bring to a boil, cover the saucepan, and turn down the heat to low.  Cook until the rice is done – 25 to 30 minutes for white, 45 to 50 minutes for brown.

2.  Meanwhile, heat the 1/4 cup olive oil over medium heat in a large, deep skillet.  Add the onions and a pinch of salt.  Stir occasionally, until the onions are soft and begin to take on color.

Once the onions begin to brown, watch them more closely and stir more often; you want the onions to brown, not burn.  Cook them down as far as you like. (I prefer them to be fully caramelized.)  Depending on how dark you want the onions, it could take anywhere between 20 – 30 minutes to cook them.

When the onions are done, take them off the heat and set aside.

3.  About halfway through the rice cooking time, place the lentils in a medium saucepan, cover with water to at least 1″ above the lentils, and bring to a boil over high heat.  Cook the lentils, adding water as needed, until they are done, about 20 – 25 minutes.

4.  When the lentils and the rice are done, mix them together (I usually do this in the pot I cooked the rice in).  Mix in the onions.  Taste for seasoning.

5.  Mujadarah is usually served with either yogurt or a tomato-cucumber salad (basically tabouleh without the bulghur wheat).

 

 

I’ve been feeling sentimental lately thinking about the foods from my childhood years.  I’d forgotten how good some of them were and still are.  It must also come with the realization that I’ve hit middle age and how I really need to eat healthier.

Kidra is another one of those dishes from our childhood that my sisters and I remember fondly.  It was an every-once-in-a-while dish; it was never one of Mom’s favorites, so we didn’t have it too often. But, when we did have it, my sisters and I would gorge.

Traditionally, it’s a recipe that is baked in a large narrow-necked clay pot called a tanour (التنور).  The pot was filled with the ingredients, sealed with a flour and water paste, and buried in an oven built into the sand where it was left to cook for hours and up to overnight.  Once cities started growing, people would send not only their bread to the bakeries, but their tanour pots as well.  In some very remote areas, the Bedouin still cook Kidra this way.

Now, many families have tanours made of lined copper that can be placed in the oven or on the stove (my parents have one) and it generally takes less than an hour for the Kidra to cook.

This is dish cooked all through the Palestinian regions and families in the Middle East, but it is most popular in Gaza, where, from what I can tell, the dish originated.

 

A few notes:

1.  If you don’t have a tanour, don’t worry.  I don’t either.  I used my Dutch oven.  It works well.

2.  Lamb is the most traditional meat to use in this dish.  You can use beef if you prefer.  Either way, be sure to use a stew meat (shoulder, round).

3.  Some people will use saffron or osfour (the stamen of the safflower) to give the dish a yellow color.  It is totally optional.  My parents never used either of these in this recipe, so I don’t either.

4.  Another traditional ingredient in this recipe is whole heads of garlic that are added just before the tanour goes into the oven.  My parents never used garlic in their Kidra.  After doing some research, I decided I wanted to add garlic in my own recipe.  However, instead of whole heads of garlic, I use peeled cloves. I like it.

Again, this is completely optional.

5.  If you don’t have whole cardamom pods for this dish, it will be fine without them.  However, you do miss out on some of the traditional flavor if you don’t use them.

6.  While white rice is most commonly used, you can use brown long-grain rice (brown basmati works well).  Just add an additional 1/2 cup of liquid and add 15 -20 minutes to the cooking time.

7.  You can make this vegetarian by using vegetable broth or water, omitting the meat, and adding more chick peas and/or fava beans.  If you’d like to add some green, use fresh green beans (not haricot vert) and saute them at the same time as you would the chick peas.

 

1 lb. lamb or beef stew meat, cut into 1″ cubes

1 1/2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. black pepper

1 tsp. allspice

1/2 tsp. cumin

1/4 tsp. ground cardamom

2 tbsp. olive oil, more if needed

1 med. onion, chopped fine

1 head garlic, cloves separated and peeled, larger cloves cut in halves or quarters

1 1/2 c. long grain rice

1 15-oz. can chick peas (garbanzos), drained

6 – 8 cardamom pods

3 c. chicken broth or water, more if needed

 

 

1.  Preheat the oven to 325F.  In a medium bowl, toss the meat with the spices.

2.  In a Dutch oven, or, if you’re lucky, you have a tanour, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat.  Brown the meat in batches; you want to get a good sear on the meat.  If you crowd the pan, they will simply steam.

After each batch of meat is browned, take it out of the Dutch oven and set it aside.  Repeat until all of the meat is done.

3.  Saute the onions and garlic in the Dutch oven, about 5 minutes.  If you need to keep the brown bits on the bottom from burning, add about 1/4 cup of water or broth to help deglaze the pan. (It doesn’t have to be an exact measurement. Just eyeball it.)  Stir frequently.

4.  Add the rice and cook for another 2 – 3 minutes.  Stir constantly.

Add the chick peas and cook another 2 – 3 minutes.  Again, stir often.

Then add back in the meat, cardamom pods, and the water or broth.

5.  Bring the water or broth to a boil on the stove.  Cover the Dutch oven and place it on the middle rack in the oven and bake for 30 – 45 minutes, or until the liquid has been absorbed and the rice is cooked.

Alternately, you can cook this fully on the stove (especially of you don’t have an oven-safe pot) on low heat for about 45 minutes, or, again, until the liquid has been absorbed and the rice is cooked.

6.  Serve with plain yogurt or cucumber-yogurt salad.

If you use cardamom pods, be sure to let your guests know.  The pods infuse a wonderful flavor but aren’t great to bite into.