food artista
Lebanese Pita bread also known as Khoubiz is a delightful undertaking in a domestic kitchen. It takes over your day, why, with watching every loaf puff up in the centre like no other, you will barely get anything else done.
Puff, all of a sudden the day is over and all you did was bake some pita loaves.
How relaxing!
Moringa Oleifera leaves are part of the drumstick tree. Although it is a medicinal leaf from the Himalayas and India, a lovely curry can also be made out of it.
Garlic, ginger, galangal, Turmeric, onion & curry leaves are a great place to start making a curry base for the dish. Chickpeas seemed ideal for this dish and some fragrant Basmati rice. What more can one ask for?
To appreciate the medicinal qualities of the Mooring leaves, I prefer to prepare the curry sauce, add the chickpeas and cook the mooring slightly towards the end of the cooking so as not to destroy it benefits.
Moringa is available in Indian Grocery Shops.
Simply delicious.
A hand designed spelt loaf with spices & parmesan for your eyes only.
Walking through Borough food market in London and seeing the lavishness and the luxuriance of foodstuff made me craving. But, most interestingly I could actually imagine myself as a country girl farming my own vegetables, raising chickens and whatever else country girls do.
Why I could be growing tomatoes of every colours, stripes and shapes, purple aubergines, yellow courgettes, purple garlic, brown onions or baby artichokes and pumpkins and my life would be a ready made picnic.
Decision made: this will be my next lifestyle. Watch this patch. 
With my eagle eyes, I spotted the fresh grape vine leaves camouflaged between a plethora of other green vegetables at the green grocers. Ecstatic, I dropped my shopping basket willy nilly in the middle of an aisle and freed my mind to focus on the soft leaves in front of mine. Oh they were in their prime. They looked young, tender and nice. Since I loved eating stuffed vine leaves I had to have me some.
Stuffed vine leaves is a favourite dish known as Ma’ashi Warak Enab to the Lebanese and the Egyptians, as Dolmades to the Greeks and the Turks and as joie de vivre to me.
With an endearing infatuation I selected approximately 40 grape leaves with attention to hue, size and texture: a pleasant hue of green, a medium size and as silky as can be. The vine leaves were radiant, ravishing and alluring and with a price tag to be reckoned with – but I was not going to tell my man. Suddenly a sense of responsibility took over my senses …and I gave the other vegetables a second look – not in any way out of respect of the man’s budget, good grief, no – but because the grape leaves were most deserving of an impressive entourage of a few companions. Strangely, I felt no remorse adding a good few more leaves to my already swanky selection.
A few juicy vine tomatoes were selected. The courgettes looked good as well – ok in the basket … Ahhhh – who took my basket? On the warpath, I frantically searched for the basket. Incensed by the interruption to my reverie, I charged between the aisles. I must have looked like a crazed, irrational woman on a mission. But alas, I stumbled onto the basket. Hoping to avoid any menacing stares from the staff, I humbly retreated back to the greenery. I pretended to look very busy.
The baby Turkish peppers and their delicate texture attracted my attention and reminded me of my mission. I added them to the basket and I purchased some lean minced beef and Basmati rice as well for now a lovely dish had sublimely formed in my mind. I was back in my element.
Back in my kitchen serious prep work took over my senses.
Four small tomatoes were cored ready to be filled, and their flesh chopped. The juicy bits were reserved for the stuffing.
Two slender courgettes followed suit. Cut in to two, they were carefully cored with the special corer. Their flesh chopped.
Alongside the flesh from the tomatoes, their flesh would add a lovely juiciness to the stuffing. 
The vine leaves were quickly blanched in boiling water for 2 seconds and drained.
The four baby peppers were hollowed.
A handful of fresh parsley was chopped. 1/2 of a sweet Spanish onion was also finely chopped. 1 cup of the Basmati rice was added to a 3/4 pound of the minced beef. For the spicing I added about 1/2 teaspoon each of Sumac, Turkish Chili flakes, sea salt, coarse black pepper and ground cinnamon.. A good drizzle of olive oil was added to the mixture. I always prefer to taste the raw mixture in order to perfect the seasoning.
With the mise en place ready, the delicate art of rolling began.
Rolling the vine leaves the Lebanese/Egyptian way calls for an even, compact thin line of stuffing while the Greek/Tukish requires a fatter and shorter line of stuffing. I prefer the Lebanese version as I find it rewards me with a delicatésse like no other. The stems of the vine leaves were then carefully cut out and discarded.
The peppers, the tomatoes and the courgettes were loosely stuffed.
Beautifully arranged in a pot, the vegetables were drizzled with some olive oil, a squeeze of lemon and 1/2 cup of water. The optimum cooking method is to bring to the boil for 1/2 a minute only. Turn the heat down to the absolute minimum setting and continue cooking covered with the lid, until the rice is tender and fluffy. But the fragrant aromas in the kitchen will tell you the most beautiful story of all Lebanese/Egyptian dishes.
Isn’t she pretty?
Well…. I did venture out into the traffic, honked and got honked at, got into wrong lanes or got stuck in one. The bus drivers bullied me and I bullied others. But if that was not enough, the school kids were crossing the road in gangs and mothers pushing double prams like mad. I mean really … at the heart of it, shopping is a fruity affair.
The greengrocers were no picnic either. Narrow aisles, prams, shopping bags on wheels were forever getting in the way. I must have looked dotty – walking backwards, forwards and then backwards – almost directing traffic for people with their daft wheelie luggage.
When I finally secured the most beautiful bunch of grapes amidst all these interruptions, the plastic bags were invariably a few prams away from me. The cherries were here as well as over there. The lovely apricots were on the right of me, the beautiful strawberries were behind me and the juicy cherries were to the left of me.
The aisles became impenetrable with tutti frutti people insisting on shopping in MY AISLE. I felt that I overstayed my welcome.
Armed with the fruits of my labour, I delved again into the traffic dreaming of creating the best fruit platter there was under the circumstances. 
“ Wop-bop-a-loom-a-blop-bam-boom ”
(Elvis Presley Tutti Frutti)
After all these years of tossing salads I decided to stop that silly habit. It is official – I no longer want to use tongs or servers for I find them unwieldy.
Salad bowls are equally banned from being used for salads. Why? because I find them to be ergonomically insensitive to the needs of every salad leaf and every slice of tomato.
Forget all efforts at presentation as beautiful bits invariably disappear in the folds of lettuce or end up in the bottom of the heap in a bowl. Tossing is passé. layers are in.
From now on, salads are carefully arranged on a plate with mindfulness of every morsel. With every drizzle of olive oil or a squeeze of lemon, each leaf, every radish and every vine tomato is decorated with grace. This is the new rule in this house, baby. 
Let me share with you that seeing stuffed chard sitting pretty in a pot surrounded by juicy vine tomatoes, purple aubergines and sweet red pepper, transports me far back to my childhood. So evocative and penetrating are these food memories that recreating such a dish provides me with such a sweet place to go to. The Swiss chard in all its glory is my favourite leaf in the culinary world. A nutritious gem in itself but also it is alluring, tender and perfect for stuffing.
Let me take you back to where I am going to and that is the pot of stuffed vegetables. Many a time I have watched my mother and grandmother rolling chard leaves with abandon and absolute dedication to the much loved dish. 
The leaves were blanched in boiling water for a few seconds and the stalks were trimmed out just so. The chard was sliced to accommodate 2-3 rolls depending on the size of the leaf. A simple filling of Basmati rice was made with fresh parsley, fresh or dried mint, onions, garlic as well as the pulp of hollowed vine tomatoes for extra flavour. A dab of tomato purée, olive oil, salt, black pepper, sumac, dill, and pepper flakes created a down to earth filling. This was quickly concocted and the leaves were then rolled carefully with it.
But a bit of a drama always ensued. The chard rolls would take centre stage and would eventually occupy most of the pot in layers upon layers of glistening vibrant green rolls. Given this place of adulation, the chard was treated like a prince. But there was never enough chard and there was always stuffing left. Reluctantly, a frantic search for other stuff-able vegetables would take hold of those two women. A couple of delicate purple aubergines, a few sweet vine tomatoes and a couple of luscious red peppers would be outrageously roughed up to be stuffed with a vengeance.
Oh yes, I do get a hint of nostalgia every time I see these tantalizing leaves at the greengrocers. I swoon and without any resistance, I hand over my money. 
It is the same as reliving the past kilo by kilo. So without many choices left for me, I look for innocent vegetables to sacrifice at the alter of Prince Chard.
Suddenly, I find myself roped into cooking when it was the last thing on my mind. You see chard is like a lover, it pouts when ignored. It needs immediate love and attention and the last thing you want is to upset its youthfulness and greenness. The meal must go on.
In an English kitchen I try to recreate those magic moments from the past. I embark with a promise of a most satisfying meal. The leaves and the vegetables get treated or mistreated according to the recipe. As they eventually sit pretty in the pot, I add 1/2 cup of water, a generous squeeze of lemon and a dab of purée over everything. After allowing it to boil for 1 minute, I let it simmer on minimum until the rice is fluffy and cooked and the fragrance tormenting.
The leaves, wilted just enough, promise a nirvana of flavours, at once delicate and intense. A gentle bite is all that is required, for it would be sinful otherwise. 
Something of a profound revelry and pleasure become intertwined, take charge of my senses and take me back to mama’s kitchen.
For those of you who will eventually fall in love with stuffed chard, the thought of hoarding some for leftovers may very well take over your senses. I leave you with a little trick that I have learned from these two women in the old kitchen. To fill the belly, serve the rolls alongside a tzatziki dip and a copious amount of a garlicky-minty-lemony shaved sweet pointed cabbage salad. Otherwise look away.
I don’t want to hear about it.
It was Father’s Day in London and I baked a cinnamon wonder braid for my man just to dazzle him with my abilities. I didn’t really know what I was doing but I decided to wing it – he won’t know. I chose a recipe that looked easy … but complex. The twisting and turning would let him marvel at my baking talents. I was going to strut my stuff and be the talk of the house.
I put the recipe in front of me and stared at it for a while – at the same time thinking of other cakes I could be baking instead. But it was too late to change my mind. I had a cake to bake and by golly I felt that I must bake it.
Bowl was ready. 2 cups flour, 1/2 tsp salt, 1 egg yolk, all ready to be mixed together.
Oh Lord, YEAST – Aaaargh….I tend to shut down when I see active yeast in a recipe. 0.6 oz yeast – just great! How many spoons was that? As if yeast was not complicated enough by nature. Never mind, there goes the rhythm and the flow of the moment. I ran to the computer to consult with the measurements converter. 3 teaspoons it is. Fine!
Back on track? Not so fast. 1/3 cup lukewarm milk? MILK? I frantically looked. Phew – had just enough to save the cake. I mixed the yeast with 1 tbs sugar and the milk and allowed to bubble for a few minutes. I prayed that the yeast fiasco was not too serious – but, thankfully, I was off the hook with that one. It bubbled as it should have.
Reading the recipe, I was skipping lines and confusing butter with the milk. . 1/4 cup butter is needed. I soften this and then I realize that it should have been 1/8 cup butter instead. I finally put on my glasses to confirm how many mistakes I had already baked into this cake so far. I added the correct butter to the flour mix and then rolled the ball of dough and left it to double for an hour.
My kind man offered to assist but I felt too indignant to say yes. I must really love this man to go through this, now I had better keep my glasses on throughout my daffy adventure. I collected myself and got back on track to do some serious baking.
The filling part looked easy: 4-5 tablespoons sugar, 3 tablespoons cinnamon. Next, I noticed the earlier 1/4 hic-cup of melted butter meant for brushing on the inside of the pastry. I rolled, brushed, sprinkled, rolled again and sliced the pastry according to the recipe until it was time for braiding the sweet cake to be.
Awkward? Yes – I could have used help at the other end of the braid but I was still feeling too proud to ask. I then broke into Chubby’s song:
“Come on baby let’s do the twist
Come on, baby, let’s do the twist
Take me by my little hand and go like this”
Since I had taken liberties with the recipe, I was seriously concerned about its gracefulness . My baking prowess was now resting on a braid.
Why, oh why, do I do this to myself? I prayed all the way to the oven. Determined to attentively follow what was left of the recipe to the Nth degree, I set the oven timer to avoid any further calamities.
The Gods must have been having a laugh or trying to irk me – the very efficient oven managed to over bake the thing.
Although I served a glass of bubbly as a camouflage, monsieur noticed that the wonder-braid was on the incinerated side of things. But you know what? My man was more than impressed with the “groovy” braid and that, for once, we had CAKE in the house.
“Let’s do the twist, ooh yeah, just like this”
Just so you know the truth: the wonder-braid was a bit too delicately sugared when more would have been more pleasurable. Less time in the oven and more leniency from the Gods would have led to a more sophisticated outcome. The eye glasses, however, saved me from a spectacle.
The proper recipe and instructions is from ***Braided Cinnamon Wreath by Ana Maria Ciolacu from Just Love Cookin’ ***. http://www.justlovecookin.com
I shall follow the recipe with care next time.
Being under the radar is the best kept secret. I feel free to wander, dream, think small, think big, hope, cry, laugh and nobody bothers me for explanations.
I am a woman, I am a daughter, I am a mother, I am a sister, I am a child, I write, I cook, I capture images, I tell jokes, I tease, I design, I sing badly, I daydream, I critique, I admire, I want, I need, I cry, I love, I dislike, I fit in, I don’t fit in, I drink, I feed, I please, I cringe, I am artistic, I am onto something, I have no idea, I think a lot, I want to be out there, I am right here, I think therefore I am, I make sense, I don’t know what I am talking about, I talk about it, I am ridiculous, I am clever, I am scared, I am happy, I write some more.
This is a path to sharing with you.
Thank you Anne from http://www.anneshealthykitchen.com/ for reading my words and nominating me for the the Liebster Award. It made my day to be recognised by a fellow blogger and it sets the stage for networking and support.
You asked – so here are a few facts about myself in addition to the above thoughts running away from me like a mad chef dealing with a collapsing souffle in a sweaty hot kitchen:
1. In which country do you live / have you lived?
– I was born in Alexandria Egypt but grew up in Beirut, Lebanon. As a young woman, I immigrated to Canada. There I lived in Montreal,Toronto and then finally settled in Vancouver, British Columbia. Then with my husband and daughter, we lived in France, Nordheim in Alsace and then Aix en Provence in the south of France. Later we moved to London, UK and we have been here for 16 years. The question is where to next?
2. What is your favorite cookbook?
The Complete Midditerranean Cookbook by Tess Mallos
3. What is the one food you could not live without?
Tabbouleh
4. If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?
– Mexico
5. What’s the most bizarre food you have ever tried?
Buttercream in cakes
6. What’s your favorite American dish?
– Hot dogs
7. Have you always been passionate about food and cooking?
– Yes
8. If you had to eat the same dish every day for one week, what would it be?
– Spaghetti a la puttanesca sauce
9. What’s your favorite way to exercise?
– Wading in the Mediterranean sea
10. Coffee, tea, or water?
– Coffee
11. What was your favorite meal when you were a child?
– Falafel in pita filled with tahini sauce, tomatoes and pickles
Others things in my biography: I once owned a restaurant called Joie de Vivre Mediterranean in London for 10 years. I am in the process of creating a cake business. I love my husband and my daughter. Travelling is precious to me if it included good food, sun & sand. Cowboy films are an obsession. Martinis and Margaritas are my favourite drinks. I love the Orient and its food. Spicy food is what I enjoy the most. I wish to live by the Mediterranean in a beach hut.
Here are the 11 bloggers for the Liebster Award:
Here are my questions to you my friends:
1- What secrets have you learned in the last few weeks?
2- What do you love the most about your life?
3- What annoys you the most about your life and what are you doing about it?
4- What is your favourite cake? Do you like icing and butter creams on cakes?
5- What kind of markets do you visit in your town and why?
6- What is your dream lifestyle?
7- If you left your job and country where would you go?
8- What is your philosophy about the current worldwide situation in a few words?
9- What type of food do you crave usually?
10- Which country do you live in and which country you wish to live in? (or City)
11- What do you wish my last question to be?
Cheers to creative blogging – Thank you and good luck
Yasmine
Please note that the following information is taken from Anne http://www.anneshealthykitchen.com/ regarding the Liebster Award and rules: Thank you Anne for this.
“To accept this award there are a few rules that need to be followed so that others can learn a little more about you
yasmine jabbour 