Known in al-Andalus as tafāyā (تفايا), a word of Berber origin, it is one of the dishes allegedly imported by the famous Abbasid musician and gastronome Ziryāb (d. 852). In the East, it was known as isfīdhbāj(a), a Persian borrowing which translates as ‘white stew’ because it was originally made with cheese.
It seems to have suited the Andalusian palate since it became extremely popular; it would be served as the first course of every meal, whereas the great physician Ibn Zuhr (1094–1162) claimed it was one of the best ways to cook meat.
This particular tafāyā is made with kid (a small goat), which is cooked with water, salt, olive oil, coriander, mint, almonds, onions, purslane and, of course, lots of eggs! The result is aptly called a ‘green’ tafāyā.
The tharīd (ثريد) is one of the oldest dishes in Arab cuisine and was imported from the East to North Africa and al-Andalus, where it gained a new lease of life, with the cookery books containing many recipes and new variants, such as this one, made with milk, from The Exile’s Cookbook.
The meat is cut up into large chunks and then cooked with pepper, salt, coriander, and onion. Once the meat is done, it is set aside and finely crumbled unleavened bread is added to the broth, to which milk is gradually added until the bread is saturated with it. The tharīd is transferred to a serving dish, after which freshly made butter (home-made is best of course!). The final touch comes in the guise of a dusting of sugar. The cakey texture of the bread is an ideal complement to the meat, whereas the butter and sugar provide a subtle sweet counterpoint. A delight!
The 12th-century Andalusian physician Ibn Zuhr stated that if the milk is boiled, the tharida is tastier and milder, but very harmful! I guess everything in life comes at a price!
A recipe for a lamb stew made with citron pulp ( حماض, hummād) attributed to the Abbasid Caliph al-Ma’mūn (d. 833), the son of Harun al-Rashid, and founder of the famous ‘House of Wisdom’ (بيت الحكمة, bayt al-hikma). A renowned gastronome, he also gave his name to a popular rice pudding and is said to have written a cookery book, which is unfortunately lost.
The recipe involves lamb chunks cooked with onion, coriander, olive oil, chickpeas and salt. Once the meat is done, the citron pulp is added, while pomegranate juice and some sugar is used to take the edge off the sourness. It is seasoned with pepper, coriander, and ginger. There is, however, a very interestiing twist in the tail as it should be poured over pieces of bread, thus turning it into a tharid. So, there you have it — two for the price of one! What’s not to like?
This is a unique recipe for a beef stew from The Exile’s Cookbook made with borage (Borage officinalis), known as lisān al-thawr (لسان الثور, ‘ox tongue’) — a loan translation from the Greek boúglōsson (the etymon of the English ‘bugloss’) — but as Abū khuraysh (أبو خريش) in Andalusian Arabic. The dish is made with lamb, borage leaves, salt, olive oil, pepper, coriander and onion. The beautiful star-shaped flowers also serve as an attractive garnish.
This is the only time borage appears as an ingredient in a food dish, as it was used primarily in medicinal compounds (often its water in beverages), most notably in stomachics and anti-nausea drugs.
The best-quality borage allegedly came from Syria or Khorasan. Medicinally, burnt borage was thought to be useful against mouth ulcers, palpitations and melancholic conditions. When cooked with sugar, it was beneficial for coughs and roughness of the chest. It is still used today in Unani medicine (where it is known by its Persian name, ‘kavzaban’, گاو زبان) for a variety of conditions, including palpitations and nerve health.
A fragrant recipe from The Exile’s Cookbook for beef cooked with pomelo vinegar, murrī , garlic, salt, olive oil, pepper, corianderand garlic until it is browned, and the juices dried out. Before serving, it is perfumed with pomelo vinegar, though lemon or sour grape vinegar are suggested variants. The result is a veritable carnivore’s feast, best eaten with some flatbread.
The medieval Andalusian cookery books reveal that its people were very partial to game, and there are several recipes for partridge, like this one from The Exile’s Cookbook. After skinning and cleaning the partridge, it is cooked in water, salt, olive oil, pepper, coriander, some onion, almonds, murrīand vinegar. When it is done, it is finished off in the oven together with the strained broth in which it was cooked. This dish is a must for game lovers!
This recipe from The Exile’s Cookbook has deep roots, which can be traced back to Abbasid times and possibly further, to Persia. The earliest narjisiyya (نرجسية) recipes involved adding egg yolks at the end of the cooking process thus creating the impression of narcissus flowers (نرجس, narjis) floating on top, hence the name of the dish.
In al-Andalus, the dish appeared in a different guise, namely as a lamb omelette of sorts being cut up in the shape of a narcissus flower, with the carrots serving as the stamens. The recipe calls for ram (but lamb will do just as well, of course), which is cut up and then cooked halfway through with salt, olive oil, pepper and coriander. Then carrots are cut up lengthwise and ‘planted’ on the meat, while adding some water, vinegar and saffron. Afterwards, it is time to sprinkle on washed rice and then — it is an Andalusian dish, after all! — eggs whipped with saffron. You can cook it either in the pot or in the oven (as in the recreatino). When it is done, the resultant omelette — or quiche — is cut up in the shape of narcissi. The narjisiyya was thought to have aphrodisiac properties as well as being beneficial for those engaged in strenuous exercise.
The Iranian Nargesi Esfanaj is the closest modern descendant, though it may well have predated the Arab dish.
This is a recreation of a recipe from The Sultan’s Feast for a date stew with lamb, known as tamriyya (تمرية), in reference to the word for ‘dried date’, tamr (تمر). There is also a variant made with fresh dates (رطب, ruṭab), called ruṭabiyya (رطبية).
The meat is cut into pieces and then boiled before frying it with salt and spices — the recipe requires sheep’s tail fat, but it works with with any oil or fat of your preference. When the meat is almost done, a layer of almond-stuffed dates is added on top. Use some of the same kind of meat, fashion into date-shaped oblong meatballs, and stuff an almond stuffed inside each. A sprinkling of rose water and saffron finished it all off and the pot should be left to simmer down.
A unique recipe from The Exile’s Cookbook and an Andalusian-North African variant of a medieval classic, the judhaba (جوذابة), a dish of Persian origin which in its Near Eastern iteration was a drip pudding, with a chicken being roasted over a fruit-layered pudding. In the Muslim West, the dish was subject to some dramatic changes and came in two guises, one without chicken and another with chicken buried in layers of flatbreads, which is recreated here.
A plump chicken with its breast split open is cooked with olive oil, salt, pepper, cinnamon, spikenard and cardamom until it is done, after which it is is again cooked in rose water until the liquid has completely evaporated. At this point, it is time to make the flabreads (رقاق, ruqāq), which will be used. The sides and bottom of a a new pot — stone or earthenware — are coated with pounded kidney suet, and then flatrbreads are spread on the bottom, making sure the edges hang over the sides of the pot as they will be used to cover others later.
After sprinkling on sugar, almonds, cloves, spikenard, rose water, camphor and olive oil, another flatbread (or two) are added, on which sugar, almonds, spices, rose water and olive oil are sprinkled. This layering continues until you reach half the height of the pot, which is when you add the chicken to the centre after having rubbed it with saffron dissolved in rose water. Then continue the layering as before until you reach the top of the pot. At this point, the flatbreads dangling over the sides of the pot are used as a cover and then the pot is covered with a lid and sealed with dough before baking until done.
Although the recipe does not specify this, the judhaba was tipped out of the pot maqluba style, simply because it was the easiest way to serve it without destroying this ‘wonderfully crafted dish, fit for kings’, as the author puts it. And on top of that it is very nutritious — as well as being very sweet!
In light of the similarities, this dish may be considered a precursor to the modern Moroccan basṭīla (بسطيلة), usually known in English as pastilla or bstila.
An unsual recipe from The Exile’s Cookbook for a stew with chicken meatballs and chestnuts, which are used as a sauce thickener. This is one of very few recipes requiring chestnuts, nearly all of them from the Andalusian collections, which contain two recipes each. Besides the chicken and fresh chestnuts (the author explains that one can use dried ones, too, but they have to be boiled first to soften them up), the recipe calls for coriander juice, salt, coriander seeds, pepper, onion juice and olive oil. The chestnuts are mashed and then added to the pot once the meatballs are done. Finally, a sprinkle of vinegar and — it’s an Andalusian recipe after all! — a layer of eggs to top the dish.
