Israeli couscous from Trader Joe's holds a special place in the hearts of the Bay Area's local pro-Israel activists. TJ's, bless them, have gone on stocking Israeli products in the face of considerable pressure from the BDS crowd to get them to stop. They have all kinds of lovely Israeli products. My own personal favorite is the Dorot frozen garlic cubes, but I am aware that many of my friends at one time bought a lifetime supply of Israeli coucous from Trader Joe's, to the extent that local activists were trading Israeli couscous recipes for months, desperate to use it all up.
I confess: I never bought any. The garlic cubes, yes, and matzo in season, but not the product I thought of as the 'fake couscous'. When I first became aware of this stuff, I had no idea what I was looking at. Couscous, to me, means, well, actual couscous, and in my childhood was usually eaten in the form of tabouli. It was also generally cooked and served by Israelis, adding to my bafflement--surely Israeli couscous is no different from normal couscous, I thought, puzzled. This odd stuff from TJ's, made up of little pasta balls like tiny ball bearings was a new substance altogether, and confused me. What made it Israeli? Why wasn't it actually couscous? What the heck was this?
I've learned a little more about it though, now, and I'm fascinated enough to be planning the purchase of a few boxes. It turns out that this peculiar carbohydrate is unique to Israel, and is actually a piece of Jewish history.
Let me take you back to the 1950s, when the newborn State of Israel is struggling to survive, and to feed its exploding population. Food is rationed. Immigrants and refugees from the Arab world are flooding into their ancient homeland and new haven. Rice is a staple food for these new Israelis, but it's not readily available because of the limited food supply and lack of imports.
David Ben Gurion to the rescue! Approaching the Osem company (yes, that same Osem whose tahini and matzo ball mix you still buy today), he asks them to come up with a rice substitute that can be produced in Israel. The result, called in Hebrew 'ptitim', is a baked wheat product, shaped like grains of rice, which can be boiled like pasta and served hot or cold. Dubbed "Ben Gurion's rice", it made its way into Israeli culinary history. The round balls of 'couscous' shortly followed.
Israeli couscous is currently very chic with foodies, to the amusement of Israelis, who seem to think of it as kid food. I am fascinated by its legacy. If matzo is the bread of affliction, this is the rice-substitute of the Ingathering, a tribute to Israeli ingenuity and determination to survive and thrive. I plan to learn to cook with it, and to give it a place in my kitchen, this most Zionist of foodstuffs.
Some reading:
http://www.haaretz.com/ben-gurion-s-rice-1.245490
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ptitim
Showing posts with label Sephardi cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sephardi cooking. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Saturday, June 04, 2011
Mafroum follow-up
The mafroum turned out decently--at least I think so. One difficulty with this dish for me is that I've never eaten one before, so I'm guessing about what it's supposed to taste like.
Notes for future ones:
1. Beef is probably better, but the turkey turned out OK. The spice mix in the turkey tastes a little overdone to me. I don't know if this because the mix is geared to a more flavored meat, or because I threw in too much pepper 'to taste', or because my taste buds aren't geared for authenticity. It's not bad, just a bit hot and sweet for my overall taste.
2. The potatoes and the vegetables come out amazingly flavorful and lovely.
3. A liter of stock is simply too much, and didn't reduce nearly as much as I'd imagined. Perhaps half or two-thirds of that amount next time. Once the mafroum are eaten, I'm going to have the makings for soup.
4. The baharat is delicious. I've never cooked with it before. NICE.
5. I can hear generations of little old Tunisian ladies gasping in unison, but I'm not sure that stuffing the damn potatoes is necessary. Meatballs and quartered potatoes, slow-cooked the same way would work fine for my lazy modern behind.
Notes for future ones:
1. Beef is probably better, but the turkey turned out OK. The spice mix in the turkey tastes a little overdone to me. I don't know if this because the mix is geared to a more flavored meat, or because I threw in too much pepper 'to taste', or because my taste buds aren't geared for authenticity. It's not bad, just a bit hot and sweet for my overall taste.
2. The potatoes and the vegetables come out amazingly flavorful and lovely.
3. A liter of stock is simply too much, and didn't reduce nearly as much as I'd imagined. Perhaps half or two-thirds of that amount next time. Once the mafroum are eaten, I'm going to have the makings for soup.
4. The baharat is delicious. I've never cooked with it before. NICE.
5. I can hear generations of little old Tunisian ladies gasping in unison, but I'm not sure that stuffing the damn potatoes is necessary. Meatballs and quartered potatoes, slow-cooked the same way would work fine for my lazy modern behind.
Mafroum, Mark One
Today, the Balabusta is trying her hand at mafroum.
Mafroum is a Jewish dish from North Africa, featuring ground seasoned meat stuffed into potatoes and then simmered to tenderness in a tomatoey sauce. It's one of those dishes that are descended from the grand Persian court cooking of the high Middle Ages, and that gradually evolved into a way for a woman to spend hours of her life stuffing things into vegetables and chopping other things into sauces. I discovered the recipe I'm using at Mimi's Israeli Kitchen, and I just had to try.
So far, so good. I am using ground turkey for the first attempt, mostly because it's cheaper. The meat blend is easy to put together, except for having to grate a potato.
Frying the potato is the more complicated part. You peel potatoes, cut them almost all the way through--well, in my case, all the way through most of the time, and then stuff them with the meat. Then you're meant to roll them in seasoned flour, then in beaten egg, and then fry them golden.
This is easier said than done. Let's just say that my potatoes got sort of fried, but beautiful like someone's grandma's from Tunisia they were not. Then you create the sauce, pour in some chicken broth, put the potatoes in, and let the whole thing simmer for a couple of hours.
The original recipe calls for cabbage, which I am leaving out because the Balabos hates cabbage. I am thinking that carrots or leeks might work for a future occasion.
Anway, the simmer is underway, and everything looks basically like the pictures, so we'll see how it goes. My kitchen smells nicely of baharat and onions.
Mafroum is a Jewish dish from North Africa, featuring ground seasoned meat stuffed into potatoes and then simmered to tenderness in a tomatoey sauce. It's one of those dishes that are descended from the grand Persian court cooking of the high Middle Ages, and that gradually evolved into a way for a woman to spend hours of her life stuffing things into vegetables and chopping other things into sauces. I discovered the recipe I'm using at Mimi's Israeli Kitchen, and I just had to try.
So far, so good. I am using ground turkey for the first attempt, mostly because it's cheaper. The meat blend is easy to put together, except for having to grate a potato.
Frying the potato is the more complicated part. You peel potatoes, cut them almost all the way through--well, in my case, all the way through most of the time, and then stuff them with the meat. Then you're meant to roll them in seasoned flour, then in beaten egg, and then fry them golden.
This is easier said than done. Let's just say that my potatoes got sort of fried, but beautiful like someone's grandma's from Tunisia they were not. Then you create the sauce, pour in some chicken broth, put the potatoes in, and let the whole thing simmer for a couple of hours.
The original recipe calls for cabbage, which I am leaving out because the Balabos hates cabbage. I am thinking that carrots or leeks might work for a future occasion.
Anway, the simmer is underway, and everything looks basically like the pictures, so we'll see how it goes. My kitchen smells nicely of baharat and onions.
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