You know how much of a sucker I am for any food that’s even remotely arabic. I mean, come on, how could you go wrong with a cuisine which can use so few ingredients, often the same ones again and again, to achieve such a bountiful display of flavour and general awesomeness? If you’re in any way as big a fan as I am then I have a feeling you’ll enjoy this vegan spinach börek recipe.

A term to cover multiple definitions

The concept of börek is more a method than a dish in itself as there are tens of ways you can prepare these pastries. Originally Turkish, it’s a dish now popular all over the Middle East and also in Eastern Europe. The most basic components of börek are simple: pastry, filled and baked or fried. Wrapped, rolled, or layered, this classic concept covers a broad range of recipes. The recipe below is based on the idea of sigara börek, or cigar filo pastries.

Recipe Notes

This doesn’t have to be a precise recipe. Use chard (silverbeet) if you want, or vary the quantities. Add nuts or TVP. Go crazy! Culinary crazy, not tinfoil hat crazy; ice-cream and string do not make good börek filling.

These spinach cigar börek pastries are meant as a main meal, so they’re bulky and dinner plate friendly. If you’re looking for a party treat, use more pastry (in smaller pieces) and less spinach to create smaller cigars. The bonus of serving these as a main meal is there’s no harm done if they explode a bit and the spinach oozes out of the filo.

If you want to bulk the meal up a bit, serve the sigara börek on a bed of steamed couscous or a freshly made toubouleh salad.

One of my favourite meals, this delightfully rich stew combines two middle eastern staples to create a mouthwatering stew of aubergine (eggplant) and chickpeas. A full-bodied tomato sauce complemented by tangy pomegranate molasses, zesty lemon and the indespensable garlic (and ingredient of which, in my opinion, you can never have too much), is what makes this dish so unique. It’s simple to make, delicious to eat, and filling to boot!

The Captain (my partner’s newly chosen nickname, a preference over being called “dad” in relation to our four legged children) isn’t so keen on this dish, but I think that’s because I’m really only 50% devoted to him. The other half of my love is pretty much wholly directed toward chickpeas and I think el capitán is just a little jealous and defensive is all.

But honestly, isn’t there room for both a man and a legume in a woman’s life? Sheesh.

Enjoy your weekend!

Like most other veggie lovers in this dear world, I am capable of consuming hummus at a rate to surpass even your granny’s incessant tirades about kids today.

Okay, I know, I know. As if the four billion alternative preparations out there aren’t enough, this is just what the world needs: another hummus recipe. Variation upon variation of this chickpea paste exists, but this one contains delicious caramelised onion as an added ingredient. Make this by the truckload and share it with everyone you know; even the aforementioned grandma will be impressed.

Recipe Notes

The reason onions caramelise is because they contain some sugar. Perhaps this is a common sense fact, but for most people sugar isn’t what comes to mind when they think of an onion. Try to use onion with a fairly high sugar content, like sweet onions or vidalia, but the standard yellow variety works too. If you’re using a really strong onion, feel free to add a bit of sugar a few minutes into the cooking process in order to aid in caramelisation.

I always use dried chickpeas and soak them overnight, but that’s not to say you can’t cheat and use a can of ‘em. But if you’ve never followed the soaking method I suggest you try it because, in my opinion anyway, it produces a superior taste. It really doesn’t take much extra time (especially if you have a pressure cooker), and it’s also a lot cheaper than buying tins! If you’re using chickpeas from a can then you may not need to add any extra salt to the recipe (depending on whether the beans are in brine), so just be mindful of what’s in the tin.

Everyone has something without which they simply cannot function. Everyone’s got a food obsession, a weakness. The chosen treat of many readers is likely a dish that’s been bastardised from the Italians (in the form of chemically enhaced dough slathered with the lowest quality ingredients imaginable and finally topped with a fatty, oily sediment which one might loosely call “mozzarella”). Or burgers. Or cardboard sandwiches.

Mine is bastardised Arabic food, just in case I haven’t mentioned that already ten billion times. Chickpeas are my BFF. Aubergine (that’s eggplant to you) is my homeboy. I want to marry a pomegranite. My closet lover is a spice shelf stacked with goodies like sumac and cinnamon. You get the idea. I live for this stuff.

I just returned home from a two week surprise visit to see my family in Maryland, 3500 miles on the other side of the Atlantic (it’s a good setup, really), and through that whole time the only Middle Eastern fayre to end up in my stomach tubes was some babaganouj from Whole Foods. By the time my plane landed at Gatwick my body was ready to shrivel up and die.

But you know how it is when you’ve been away: you return home to a ghetto-stocked fridge full of half-eaten leftovers. Thankfully one of those was a tub of hummus I’d made before I left. My husband had already been instructed to greet me with an aubergine, and the freezer held a few old sheets of Phyllo pastry which called out to be defrosted. Provided below is the resulting tale.

Recipe Notes and howto

I know people get frustrated with recipes which don’t include exact amounts and I know I should take better care to measure so I can pass things on properly. But here’s the thing: I suck. Oh, and another thing: your worst case scenario is going to be gooey pastry and aubergine. It’s still going to taste good if you’re into these sorts of flavours.

I used Iranian Advieh in the mix, but consider this optional (here’s a recipe for advieh if you want to try it yourself). I personally like the warmth induced by the cinnamon and hummus combination, but my husband was slightly more skeptical.

If you’re not sure about my instructions below, or are confused, I’ve included some pictures of whole who wrapping up process.

Quinoa is seriously under-valued by so many, and it’s a real shame because it’s a truly divine grain. Fortunately it’s seen for its value in its land of origin, the South American Andes region, where it has been cultivated for some 6,000 years.

Technically a seed rather than a grain, this star food is one of the most complete proteins out there, containing all the amino acids about which those uneducated doctors-cum-[wannabe] nutritionists chide veggies (I’ve been vegetarian for 17 years and I’m still waiting to be hospitalised for malnutrition, as promised by so many).

Recipe Notes

In my pictures you’ll notice I used this recipe as a stuffing for baked peppers. While this was good I suggest using this as a side dish instead. The reason lies with the dill, a mild herb with a flavour easily lost with too much heat. If you intend to oven-bake this quinoa recipe then I suggest serving it with some fresh dill after the baking process is complete.

Why Arabic inspired? The Arabic world’s contribution to the food fusion scene is one which has offered uncomplicated yet inspired results. One reason I adore this region’s food is because its cuisine uses simplicity and general know-how to engineer heaven on a plate. Combine this with a little creativity and your imagination can stretch the basics for miles and miles. For instance pine nuts, dill, and Middle Eastern spices combined with a seed of the gods, an Incan grain fit for kings.

As with many (most?) of my recipes, the ingredient quantities can take some guesswork in measurements, and most certainly have room for experimentation.

Perfect to serve with some new potatoes doused in olive oil or butter, this quinoa is also filling on its own (though you may want to increase the recipe a bit).

A quick kibbeh primer

A dish which comes in countless varieties across many countries, this Arab inspired snack is generally made up of different combinations of fine burghul (bulgur wheat), spices, and high quality minced meat. These ingredients are pounded by use of pestle and mortar until a thick paste forms, and from the paste the kibbeh are formed. Kibbeh can come in many shapes and sizes but the iconic image of this popular regional dish is in the shape of a torpedo.

Because the meat often used is lamb, I opted for tempeh as a base (meat eaters have said to me before they have found tempeh to be the best vegetarian or vegan substitute for lamb). There are a few major differences between a traditional kibbeh of this style and my own. First the bullet shaped kibbeh would traditionally be fried (or perhaps grilled) but I opted for a baked version. Second, it’s considered an art to be able to form the toredo shape and I realise this is a skill I do not yet posess. I can barely tie my shoelaces so cut me some slack. Finally, the ball shaped kibbeh is generally stuffed and mine is not. Perhaps I will move onto that concept during the next round.

Recipe notes and adjustments

While traditionally pounded by hand, I find a food processor works wonders. This amazing kitchen tool will save you hours of labour with this particular recipe.

I’m very happy with this recipe as it stands, but I used a different brand of tempeh than the brand which inspired the idea for the recipe. The tempeh I normally buy contains a great deal more moisture than that used in this kibbeh recipe, which is why I have added water as a possible ingredient depending on what tempeh you may have. Next time I would like to try the dish with my preferred tempeh brand because I think the kibbeh could do with something a little more binding (while this recipe works, the final product is a little more crumbly than I’d like). Perhaps egg or an egg substitute would be the answer, or maybe even mashed potato?

I paired this particular recipe with browned onions fried and coated with a healthy dollop of pomegranate molasses. It’s also very good on a salad with a simple lemon and olive oil dressing (try a mix of greens with mint, parsley, and onion and top with a healthy sprinkling of freshly ground black pepper).

I have no excuse for how long it’s been since I’ve posted a new recipe. I have no excuse for how long it’s been since I’ve developed many new goodies. Okay, I have a little excuse and that’s to do with a combination of the election and Christmas. As some of you know, despite living in the UK, I am an American ex-pat and the election is/was important to me on a number of levels. Primarily I wanted to see my guy win for all sorts of reasons, but I also deal with a lot of election-related merchandise and my energy just had to be focused on that all month. The story with Christmas is similar; as with anything in retail December is a very important month so I needed to be prepared. Unfortunately this site has been neglected as a result of those factors.

I can assure you I will have plenty of other excuses later on, like how miserable and depressing it is that the sun starts going down at 3:30pm and how terrible the light is for photography once the natural light has dipped away. And that I haven’t seen a proper summer in Britain for nearly three years. On the plus side I am hoping to buy a better camera soon! The bottom line is I need some inspiration right now and good tools always help (and would have been handy shooting the roasted tomatoes – my current camera sucks fruitcake).

On to the hummus

Back to business, I have to say I have always claimed to hate tomatoes. This doesn’t count for the cooked variety but rather for anything that’s less than pulverised and heated beyond the consistency and flavour of the original raw thing. This is a viewpoint that changed marginally when I discovered roasted tomatoes, and I highly suggest to anyone who hates tomatoes to give this method a go because it will give you a whole new perspective (at least it did for me).

My local supermarket had about 76,152 kilos of tomatoes discounted one evening so I of course purchased them all. Part of them went into this recipe (because I also had 82,137 chickpeas). The rest just went straight into my belly.

The flavour, in my opinion, is best within just a few hours of preparation, but it will last for quite awhile in the fridge. It’s awesome on sandwiches with a little basil added and of course makes a fabulous dip for pitta bread.

Aubergine is an unfortunate vegetable in many ways; it features a gorgeous and deep purple colour that cooks into a dull grey lump, it can be spongy, it can be unpleasant. But I realised it didn’t have to be yuck and that it simply had to be cooked right. I practised a multitude of different recipes and techniques and realised if cooked through well enough, aubergine is still a delightful vegetable whether deep fried, stewed, or burnt to a crisp in the oven. I was back on track in engaging a positive relationship with this purple veggie.

Then I discovered Baba Ganoush and I fell extra in love. Whenever someone tells me they dislike aubergine I always challenge their statement with this delicious, smoky, Arabic spread. Rarely do they claim to dislike aubergine after that.

Generally I would serve it with pitta bread or with a mezze meal. It is not something that often yields leftovers and it goes quickly. For some reason, however, my last attempt left a few tablespoons behind. Not one to throw food away unless it’s fuzzy, this instead became a base for toasted cheese a day or two after.

Er, so what’s the point of this post?

I simply that I want the world to love aubergine. I want everyone who has never had Baba Ganoush, especially those of you who claim to hate eggplant/aubergine, to either make or find some of this delectable dip. Eat it with bread, with vegetables, with couscous, with bulghur wheat, with salad, or as a spread! My point is this: it’s awesome. Seriously, go. Find some. Eat. Report back.

Baba Ganoush Recipes

Another fabulous way to enjoy this delicious dip is toasted or grilled on bread with your favourite non-dairy cheese.

Here are a few great recipes for Baba Ganoush to get you started!

• Baba Ganoush Recipe
• Baba Ganoush Vegetable Plate

Using my recipe for Turkish style tofu, plus some traditional Sunday Roast ingredients, here’s a very easy and basic vegetarian Sunday roast with a little bit of added Middle Eastern flavour.

While argan oil may lose some flavour when heated to high temperatures, it was my choice of oil for making the roast potatoes for this roast. In future I would probably not use argan oil again for a roast, for a couple of different reasons: it’s expensive, and while it does add some flavour it’s not terrible noticeable unless you know what you’re tasting for.

The roasted tofu was simple as can be. Cut the block into two, coat it with some oil, and stick it in the oven with the potatoes. Same amount of time (ish). Just keep an eye on it to be sure it isn’t a charcoal colour. You know, to a char.

The peas and carrots? Also simple. For each cup or two of veg, add tablespoon of dill (I used dried), some mint, a clove of garlic, and 1-2 tablespoons of lemon juice. Fry the ingredients up in a bit of olive oil (or butter) for a minute and then add them to the already-cooked peas and carrots.

Last, but certainly not least (as it’s a roast staple) we have the gravy. Again, this one was dead easy! I just used a basic stock, thickened with corn flour, with a couple of tablespoons of pomegranate molasses and a third of a cup or so of orange juice also added. Add a splash of white wine for a little extra depth, if desired.

…so with just a little bit of extra effort, but certainly not a lot, I managed a new take on the concept of the traditional Sunday roast. Maybe these types of flavours aren’t to your liking, but regardless of that it’s proof that it is possible to vary on tradition when it comes to food.

There’s a great store in Brighton called Infinity Foods (well, they’re great when they have things in stock, anyway) and I used to buy really firm and flavour-packed tofu from them whenever I was in town. They were packed with herbs and spices that made these blocks of bean curd into ideal picnic basket additions, lunchtime snacks, or sneaky delights on that midnight fridge run. That, combined with the fact that it’s nearly impossible to find decent, fresh tofu around here, is what eventually lead to the idea of purchasing a Soyquick machine and a tofu kit.

The Turkish tofu flavours

So here’s one of the experiments, a Turkish style tofu, made with aromatic cumin, garlic, and zesty Za’atar (a vibrant mix of spices that is also great with nothing more than olive oil and a nice bread). The tofu is made by a standard method of straining and pressing the bean curd, only the spice mixture is added before pressing.

Fresh bean curd

Bean curd mixed with Turkish spices

I realise not everyone makes their tofu in the same manner. Some of you probably make your soy milk from scratch and others are probably picking their jaw up off the filthy floor due to the fact that I am undoubtedly not doing this “right.” (I am open to suggestions, seriously). But the end result was delicious, and that’s what I’m all about!

I used this particular batch in a Middle Eastern inspired Sunday roast.