Chickpea

Armenian dishes are humble and rustic. This one is a party dish which combines everyday ingredients in a complex way. The serving is something of a ritual.

This was a family favorite that my mother often made.

In this delicately flavored and scrumptious Moroccan qdra, the long-cooked almonds should become very soft. As so often in Moroccan cooking, one onion is cooked first with the meat or chicken, and when these are nearly done, the remaining onions are added. The first onion is used to add flavor to the meat, and it practically melts and disappears into the sauce. The onions added later keep their shape and add body to the sauce.

This is the much-loved national soup of Morocco. During the holy month of Ramadan, when Muslims fast between sunrise and sunset, the smell permeates the streets as every household prepares its own version to be eaten when the sound of the cannon signals the breaking of the fast at sunset. It is eaten with dates and honeyed cakes. A particular feature is the way it is given what is described in Morocco as a “velvety” touch by stirring in a yeasty batter or simply flour mixed with water.

In this lovely Turkish soup, the egg yolk and the flour prevent the yogurt from curdling. The rice is best cooked separately and added in before serving, as it gets bloated and mushy if left in the soup too long.

This very popular Tunisian soup is eaten for breakfast. In poor families it serves as a meal during the day. Little cafés in popular areas serve it in the morning to people going off to work.

This is an instant salad to make with canned chickpeas, but they must be good-quality.

A rustic Lebanese salad.

Chickpeas are so common in the Arab world that they could be a symbol of it. The pureed version combined with tahina has become ubiquitous in the West, but this one, without tahina, called “hummus habb” or “sada,” is nice too, if you dress it with plenty of lemon juice and olive oil.

This salad puree is the most widely known and appreciated of all outside the Middle East (abroad it is known simply as hummus). It is the constant companion of shish kebab and ta’amia in Oriental restaurants and is also good with fish or eggplants.

A number of dishes that go under the general name of fatta all have in common a bed of toasted bread, soaked in stock, and a topping of yogurt. The name denotes the manner of breaking up crisp, toasted bread with your hands. To me, they recall a special person, the late Josephine Salam. Many years ago I received a letter from her from Beirut saying that she had a number of recipes she thought I would like. On our first meeting, at Claridge’s tearoom in London, where a band played Noël Coward tunes, she offered to come to my house and show me how to make fatta with chicken. We made that and many more meals together. It was the time of the civil war in Lebanon, and as she came and went from the country, I received an ongoing account of everyday life in the ravaged city. Her daughter, Rana, has become an artist and designer. For her thesis at the Royal College of Art in London, she asked me to give a lecture on the history of Middle Eastern food. She had ten portraits of me painted on cloth by a poster-painter in Egypt (he used photographs I gave Rana) and hung them around the college to publicize the event. She laid out foods and spices as in a souk, put on a tape of sounds and music recorded in an Egyptian street, and passed around Arab delicacies. When she visited me a few years later with her husband and new baby, I offered her the fatta with stuffed eggplants on page 300.

A layer of chickpeas, spread over bread soaked in their cooking broth, smothered in yogurt with an elusive taste of tahini, and topped with pine nuts may sound heavy but it is surprisingly light and delicate in the eating, and the mix of textures, temperatures, and flavors is a joy. The bread must be the very thin flat bread known as khobz halabi, which is sold by Lebanese bakeries. You need either 1 large one measuring about 12 inches in diameter, or 2 smaller ones; or use 1 pita bread instead.

This dish can be served cold as a salad or hot as a side dish to accompany meat or chicken. It has a delicate sweet-and-sour flavor.

This rustic salad from the Bekaa Valley does not feature on the standard restaurant menu. It began originally as the leftover, meatless filling for vine leaves. Make it with fine-ground bulgur.

I made notes about this recipe and a few others at Haci Abdullah’s restaurant in Istanbul. It is a cool summer soup using rural staples, and it takes only minutes to make.

Hummus is popular in America now. It is the kind of thing you make to taste, adding a little more garlic, salt, or tahini as you go along. Serve it with warmed pita bread.

Traditionally, the Berbers first made couscous with barley, and barley couscous is still very popular, especially in the south of Morocco. It is now available in precooked form from some Middle Eastern stores. You can substitute ordinary couscous. You can make the broth with lamb, beef, or veal (preferably shoulder, neck fillet, or knuckle) and with a choice of vegetables. According to local lore, seven is a magic number that brings good luck. Onions, tomatoes, and chili peppers count as flavorings, so you must have seven more vegetables. I have listed eight, so drop one. The number of ingredients makes it seem a scary endeavor, but it is only a matter of throwing things into a pot, and it makes a spectacular one-dish meal for a large party. You will need a very big pot.

Harira is the generic term for a soup full of pulses—chickpeas, lentils, or beans—with little meat, few vegetables, and plenty of herbs and spices. Every day during the holy month of Ramadan, when Muslims fast between sunrise and sunset, the smell of this soup permeates the streets as every household prepares its own version to be eaten when the sound of the cannon signals the breaking of the fast. While ingredients and spices vary, a particular feature is the way it is given what is described in Morocco as a “velvety” touch by stirring in a sourdough batter or simply flour mixed with water. In the cities in Morocco, it serves as a one-dish evening meal, and in rural areas it is also eaten as breakfast before peasants go out to work in the fields. During Ramadan, it is served with lemon quarters and accompanied by dates and honeyed pastries. The soup can be made a long time in advance, but if you are adding the tiny bird’s-tongue pasta—douida in Morocco (you find it in Middle Eastern stores), orzo in Italian stores (or you can use broken vermicelli)—these should be added only about 10 to 15 minutes before you are ready to serve, otherwise they will get bloated and mushy. I have given measurements for a large quantity because it is a rich, substantial soup that you might like to serve as a one-dish meal at a party. The best cuts of meat to use are shoulder or neck fillet.

In Morocco, this is considered “poor food.” It is eaten hot with bread to soak up the juices. You could make it with canned chickpeas, in which case it would take only a few minutes to cook, but for a large quantity like this, it is worth using dried chickpeas, as their taste and texture is better and they will have time to absorb the flavors. You need to soak them in water for a few hours or overnight.

A mild and soft fresh goat cheese, jban, is one of the rare cheeses produced in Morocco. If you are not keen on raw garlic, you can leave it out.