Category: Meat dishes

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Sikbaj — the return!

Over three years ago, I posted a recreation of one of the most emblematic dishes of medieval Arab cooking, a vinegar stew known as sikbāj (سكباج), with both the dish and the name being a borrowing from Persia (sik, ‘vinegar’; bāj, ‘stew’). The recreation was based on a 10th-century Baghdadi recipe and though the result was flavoursome enough, the sourness of the vinegar was quite overpowering to the modern palate. However, everything deserves a second chance and so here’s another stab, this time using an Egyptian version of the dish from The Sultan’s Feast. It’s made with fatty lamb chunks and a range of herbs, spices and vegetables, including, agarwood, cassia, coriander, onions, leek, carrots, and aubergine, as well as, of course, the eponymous vinegar, tempered with some dibs (date molasses) or honey. The dish is served with almonds, jujubes, dates and raisins sprinkled on top. The result could not have been more different from the first iteration; rather than the tart vinegary kick, there was now a more mellow sweet-and-sour overtone. Probably the biggest difference in the two preparations was the use of the home-made medieval grape-and-fig vinegar, instead of the plain vinegar of the first sikbaj. The recipes, themselves, call for ‘vinegar’ but it is very likely that then — just as now — the cooks would have selected the vinegar of their choice for any given dish, and so, who knows, maybe in this case a fruity vinegar would have been used. At least, that’s what I’d like to think! In any case, when sikbaj is on the menu again, I know which of the two recipes I’d go for…

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Spotlight on: Rabbits

The rabbit (Oryctolagus cuniculus) is a member of the Leporidae (Latin, lepus, ‘hare’) family, which includes various species of hare, and is native to the Western Mediterranean, more specifically Morocco and the Iberian Peninsula. The animal was unknown as food in ancient Greece, and the Romans were the first to import the animals (from Spain) for food, using ferrets to catch them, in the 2nd century BCE. Rabbits and hares were bred and fattened in special warrens, known as leporarium, and the poet Martial (1st century BCE) considered hare the best game meat.

It is unclear when rabbits travelled eastward along the southern Mediterranean, and when they did, their meat was not highly praised since no recipes can be found in any of the Near Eastern medieval Arabic cookery books. In terms of terminology, the Arabic arnab (أرنب) to this day is the word for both hare and rabbit (especially in the Near East), though only the latter is used for food in the present-day Arab world, most famously in the Egyptian mulukhiyya (though this is also made with chicken or beef). Andalusian Arabic had separate words for rabbit, i.e. qunilya (قنلية) or qunayna (قنينة), both going back to the Latin cuniculus, which would also result in the English ‘coney’, as well as Kaninchen (German), konijn (Dutch), and kanin (Danish, Swedish). The linguistic confusion continues to this day in Morocco, where arnab can mean ‘hare’ or ‘rabbit’, but qniya only denotes rabbits. Like in ancient Rome, rabbits were bred for food in al-Andalus. Interestingly enough, though the hare appears in the name of certain dishes called arnabī, none of these require it and were, instead, made with beef, dried tuna, or aubergine!

It is only in their homeland that rabbits and hares were used in cooking, with a number of recipes for both in the anonymous Andalusian cookbook and that compiled in Tunisia by the Andalusian emigré al-Tujībī, both from the 13th century. The animals are usually roasted but also stuffed, in one instance with a rich mixture including some more rabbit meat!

In the medical and pharmacological literature, only arnab is mentioned, though as stated, it probably referred to both hares and rabbits. The 13th-century Andalusian physician Ibn Khalsun recommended young female rabbit, cooked with vinager, murrī, garlic, olive oil, onions and spices. Other scholars also praised hare meat; when eaten with vinegar, it is useful against epilepsy and when roasted, it was considered good for bowel ulcers, as well as being a diuretic. The blood of hares was prescribed in a poultice to remove freckles, pimples and blisters.

rabbits in a 13th-century manuscript of a work by the physician Ibn Bakhtishu’ (“the rabbit is afraid of all animals and is nocturnal…”)

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Andalusian roast (شواء, shuwā’) duck

This is one of the few dishes in the medieval Arabic culinary recipes requiring duck, which in this case is referred to as iwazz al-qirt (أوزّ القرط), a peculiarly Andalusian Arabic term that translates literally as ‘earring goose’ and denotes a kind of duck that remains to be identified. The other interesting feature of this recipe is that it is attributed to one Abu Salih al-Rahbani, who ‘made it in his Kitchen.’

In this 13th-century recipe, the duck is marinated overnight in a mixture of juices (onion, garlic, coriander), murrī, vinegar, olive oil, and a collection of aromatic spices, including cassia, ginger, and cumin. Before putting the duck into the marinade, its skin should be pierced, with the holes being variously stuffed with garlic, almond paste, walnuts, or ginger.

If you happen to have a tannūr (clay oven) handy, put the duck inside — otherwise, just use the oven at home — and when it is cooked to a turn take it out, cut it up and serve with its juices. To say that the result is succulent is not to do it justice. If you do need to describe it, ‘heavenly’ is the word I’d use…

And, in case you feel guilty about such indulgence, bear in mind that it is also for medicinal purposes since, so the author reminds us, it is highly nutritious and strengthening!

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Medieval jerky

The preserving of meat and fish through drying, curing (salting), and pickling goes back to ancient Egypt, and in what is considered the oldest Arabic cookery book (10th century), there is already a recipe for antelope (!) jerky (قديد, qadīd). The recipe recreated here is from a 13th-century Tuniso-Andalusian cookery book and can be made with any kind of meat (in this case beef), which is cut it into strips and then put into a marinade of vinegar and salt for about half a day, after which it is seasoned with pepper, dried coriander, cumin, caraway, and murrī. Once these wonderful flavours have infused the meat, it is taken out and hung on a rope in the sun for a day — for those who do not have the luxury of sunlight, feel free to use an air dryer. It is ready when the meat has lost all of its moisture. Store in a jar in dark dry place. Interestingly enough, it was not supposed to be enjoyed as a snack, like today, but to be cooked and used ‘just like fresh meat’.

 

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Stuffed aubergines (باذنجان محشي, badhinjan mahshi)

A delightful recipe from The Sultan’s Feast, an earlier version of which can already be found in a 13th-century Syrian cookery book.
It’s a decidedly modern dish and involves scooping out the cores of the aubergine and then stuffing them with meat mince that has been boiled and then seasoned with coriander, caraway, pepper, cassia, coriander and parsley. The aubergines are skewered to keep the stuffing snugly in place and fried, preferably in sheep’s tail fat, until golden. Serve after removing the skewers and sprinkle on dried coriander.

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Medieval Egyptian Saffron chicken

This recipe from The Sultan’s Feast isn’t given a name, but that’s a minor quibble in light of the sheer deliciousness of the end result! The chicken is roasted after being rubbed with walnut (or almond) oil, salt, and saffron. To ensure maximum succulence, the chicken is basted with a sesame oil, salt and saffron sauce. The author tells us that the best kind of chicken to use is one that has been tired out, fattened up and then fed vinegar and rose water before slaughter. However, no need for dramatics — simply marinate the chicken overnight in vinegar and rose water.

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Spotlight: A crunchy locust anyone?

The use of this insect (Schistocerca gregaria) as food goes back a long time, even if it was not always viewed favourably. The oldest references to eating locusts come from ancient Mesoptamia, where a key component of the diet was a garum-like brine in which either locusts or fish were fermented. This sauce was known as shiqqu and used as a condiment, usually paired with vinegar, and without them no meal was considered complete. Locust shiqqu also had medicinal purposes, for instance to alleviate heartburn, and would even be drunk mixed with pomegranate juice.

In the Bible (Book of Leviticus), locusts and other members of the same family (Acrididae) like crickets and grasshoppers are mentioned as food permitted by God, whereas John the Baptist is said to have survived on locusts and wild honey in the desert.

In ancient Greece, the eating of locusts was seen as barbaric, and the Greek geographer Strabo (d. 24 CE), for instance, used Akridophagoi , ‘locust-eaters’ (akris, ‘locust’), as a derogatory term for a tribe of northeastern Africa.

According to a famous hadith (saying of the Prophet Muhammad), locusts (جراد, jarād) are said to be a lawful food for Muslims, and the insects make a few appearances in medieval Arab cuisine. At the same time, any references probably included grasshoppers, as the Arabic word denotes both insect varieties but not, however, crickets which are known as sursur (صرصر) or judjud (جدجد).

In the oldest Abbasid cookery book (10th century), locusts appear pickled in brine, just like in ancient Mesopotamia, in a recipe for a condiment known as sihnāt (صحناة), which was usually made with small fish. The only other time locusts are used in a recipe is in a 13th-century Tuniso-Andalusian treatise, where the insects are boiled and fried, and served with murrī, cinnamon, and pepper.

The absence of locusts from other cookery books can be explained by the fact that they generally reflect a cuisine of the elite, which was devoid of insects of any kind. It is, however, likely that depending on the region and food access, locusts were not an unusual part of the diet in the countryside, particularly during infestations. According to the 12th-century geographer al-Idrīsī, the people of Marrakech were quite partial to the insects, which were sold at market in large quantities.

Locusts (/grasshoppers) were also used in medieval Islamic medicine; Ibn Sīnā, for instance, recommended them in the treatment of urinary incontinence and fevers, and claimed that their legs were useful in the removal of warts. The Nestorian physician Ibn Bakhtishu’ (d. 1058), for his part, suggested a poultice of cooked locusts to treat poisonous bites.

locusts in an early 13th-century manuscript (Bibliothèque nationale de France) of a book written by Ibn Bakhtishu’
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Aleppine Lemon Chicken

This 13th-century dish from Aleppo was originally made with sour oranges or citron, which are used to make a syrupy sauce. The chicken is fried separately and then added to the sauce. The chicken is garnished with lemon cuts or slices when serving. As the author says, ‘it’s an unusual dish’ (فإنه نوع غريب)!

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Multifruit chicken stew

The oldest version of this recipe goes back to 13th-century Syria, but it was so delicious that it travelled to Egypt, where two centuries later we find it in The Sultan’s Feast. The preparation is in keeping with this type of dish. First, you make a sauce with pomegranate seeds, sugar, ground almonds, ginger, and pieces of quince and apple. The recipe specifies that it should be ‘fathi‘ (فتحي) apples, but any other variety will also work. The next step is to boil and fry chicken, which is then added to the sauce. A very delicate dish with an exquisite sweet-and-sour flavour.

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Rhubarb stew (ريباسية, ribasiyya)

As rhubarb is currently in season, what better way to celebrate this much-underused vegetable than by recreating a recipe for a rhubarb stew from The Sultan’s Feast? The instructions are rather minimal, as are the ingredients: meat, spices (what else?), onions, rhubarb juice, sweet almond conserve (murabbā) and mint. A wonderful dish with flavours that are in perfect harmony. What to eat with it? Well, that’s got to be some flatbread to soak up every last drop of the sauce.