The origins of this recipe for a jamāliyya (جمالية) from The Sultan’s Feast go back to pre-Islamic times and it is related to a sweet pudding, known as hays (حيس) made by Bedouins with dried curds, clarified butter and dates.
In the Mamluk version (14th-15th c.), the dates are cooked down to a paste in butter, after which breadcrumbs are added. It is served with a sprinkling of castor sugar and pistachios. The consistency is reminiscent of a sticky toffee pudding, and the taste is just as addictive!
This is a variation from 13th-century Aleppo of an ancient recipe for an ‘asida (عصيدة), which usually denoted a gruel made of cooked wheat flour and clarified butter (سمن, samn), to which dates were often added as well. The word is derived from a verb meaning ’to twist’, ‘to turn’.
This particular variation is rather unusual in that it is made with milk and rice, with semolina sprinkled in once the rice has cooked. The texture is that of a thick pudding, which is spread out on a plate and served topped with toasted pistachios, rose-water syrup and sugar.
The most surprising ingredient, perhaps, is sheep’s tail fat (ألية, alya), which is rendered before being added when serving. It really adds a depth and richness that makes this particular dish ‘the best ‘asida there is’, to use the words of the author.
Medicinally, ‘asida was considered of lower quality than regular fat (شحم, shahm) in that it is not very nutritional and is slow to digest. However, its negative effects can be remedied with spices such as ginger, black pepper or cassia, and murri.
This 13th-century recipe from The Exile’s Cookbook constitutes an amazing and original twist on the time-honoured favourite, the qatayif (قطائف). The earliest recipes for these crepes cooked on only one side are already found in the earliest Abbasid culinary tradition. However, they were clearly too good to be kept in one area and they travelled across the Mediterranean, all the way to the Iberian Peninsula, very early on .
After you have made some qatayif, cut them into strips and start boiling some skimmed honey with cinnamon, pepper, spikenard, saffron, and starch. When the honey starts to boil, water-dissolved starch is added and then the qatayif cut into strips. Stir continuously until you get a smooth mass and then pour on some olive oil. Once the consistency is that of a starch pudding, it can be served. If you like, you can sprinkle on coarsely chopped pistachios, or skinned almonds or walnuts. The texture of the end result is reminiscent of marmalade, albeit with an amazingly aromatic and spicy kick.
A 13th-century Syrian twist on the medieval classic doughnut, which came in North African and Egyptian variations as well. The fact that it is a recipe from Aleppo explains why it is made with pistachios — for which the city was famous — rather than the more usual almonds. Another interesting feature of this particular recipe is that it has the lowest number of ingredients among the Qahiriyya recipes.
The principle remains the same, of course. One starts with a filling (in this case, sugar, pistachios, rosewater and flour), which is then shaped into rings (as well as discs), which are left to dry overnight. Then, they are dunked into a batter and deep-fried before being smothered with a mixture of rose-water syrup and honey.
This is a recipe from 13th-century Aleppo for a very simple type of biscuit, which was a variant for a sweet known as ‘urnīn‘, which was quite popular since another recipe can be found in a Baghdadi cookery book.
In Arabic it is called khubz al-abāzīr (خبز الأبازير), which translates as spiced, or seeded bread; its preparation could not be more simple and involves kneading wheat flour with sesame oil, sesame seeds, pistachios and almonds and then shaping it into round cakes before baking until browned. The full urnīn recipe, in case you’re wondering, includes a filling of sugar pistachios and almonds, added with aromatics like rose water and musk. But that, as they say, is for another day! For now, it is time to enjoy the more basic variety!
This recipe from The Exile’s Cookbook is the ancestor of the modern North African almond-stuffed crescent-shaped biscuits, often called by their French name of cornes de gazelle, which are known in Arabic either as qarn al-ghazāl (قرن الغزال) or ka’b al-ghazāl (كعب الغزال, ‘gazelle ankles’), as they were in the Middle Ages. In Algeria, they are commonly called tcharek (تشاراك ) msakker (مسكّر, ‘sugared’).
Unlike the present-day sweets, the 13th-century variety was shaped into rolls. The dough is made with flour, olive oil, hot water and salt, added with fennel seeds, aniseed, pepper and ginger. For the stuffing, sugar and almonds are mixed together with rose water and aromatic spices. The dough is then shaped into very thin rolls in which the stuffing is placed before baking them in the oven. The author adds that some ‘refined people’ (ظرفاء, ẓurafā’) add crushed pine nuts to the filling, as well as whole pine nut into each roll. After baking, they should be kept in a jar, but, based on how good they are, I don’t think anyone needs a particularly big one!
A 13th-century North African and Andalusi twist on the famous ‘Cairene‘ sweet (قاهرية) –fried marzipan doughnuts . This particular iteration from The Exile’s Cookbook requires a mixture made with sugar, almonds, rose water, cassia, cinnamon, spikenard, pepper, ginger, nutmeg, galangal, and camphor. This is formed into small kaʿk shapes — i.e. small rings. Then, it’s time to make the batter, with flour, sugar, yeast, starch, salt, and again some almonds.
The author recommends using almond oil for the deepfrying, though olive oil is a suitable alternative. Once the oil has come to a boil, the qahiriyya are ready for their hot bath — just long enough for them to brown, after which they should be swiftly removed. Serve drenched in honey or thickened rose-water syrup, and dust with caster sugar. Yes, indeed!
This intriguing recipe from 14th-century Egypt for turning dried figs into fresh ones is very simple. A mixture of honey and saffron is stuffed into the dates which are then placed on a pot with boiling water and leaving the steam to do the rest. Then the figs should be covered and left to rest overnight, after which, so the author explains, “they will become as if they have just been picked.” Whilst this is perhaps an exaggeration, the result is nonetheless spectacular and very tasty.
This is the ancestor of the modern North African delicacy, known as sfenj (سفنج) in Morocco and Algeria, bambalunī (بمبلوني < Italian bombolone) in Tunisia, and sfinz (سفنز) in Libya. Both the Arabic word isfanj (إسفنج) and the English ‘sponge’ go back to the Greek σπογγιά, albeit via the Latin spongia (spongea).
Interestingly enough, in this recipe from The Exile’s Cookbook is, in fact, very similar to another Arab sweet variously known as ‘awwāma (عوامة, ‘floater’), luqmat al-Qāḍī (لقمة القاضي, ‘The Judge’s morsel’), zalābiyya (زلابية) or luqayma (لقيمة, ‘little morsel’), depending on the region.
This particular isfanj is made with semolina, water, salt and yeast being kneaded into a light dough. After proofing, the idea is to take some dough into your hand and clench your fist, as a result of which some of the dough is forced out from between your thumb and index finger. It is this piece that protrudes that will be deep-fried in olive oil.
They were made in two sizes — small and large, known respectively as mughaddar (مغدّر) and aqṣād (أقصاد). Once the isfanj have turned golden, remove them from the pan and, after draining off the oil, and serve. Note that before frying up the first batch, the author recommends using one shaped like a modern doughnut shape to test whether the dough has been sufficiently proofed. They are particularly nice when dunked in honey!
This recipe from The Sultan’s Feast for preserving citron pulp calls for sugar, pistachios, (toasted) hazelnuts, rose jam (home-made, of course!), saffron, musk and rose water, all of which are cooked together. The author recommends storing it in a wide-mouthed clay jar fumigated with agarwood and ambergris, after which it should be covered well ‘so that the vapours cannot escape’, which ‘is the height of goodness’. A tall claim but one that is indeed borne out by the result!
It is a wonderful combination of complementary tangy and aromatic flavours, and is not only a tasty side, but also an amazing alternative to the marmalade on your morning toast!
