I was in the shuk this week, enjoying the fresh air, choosing new potatoes, checking out the strawberries and artichokes. The market was crowded with eager shoppers speaking Hebrew, Ladino, Russian, Amharic, Yiddish, and Arabic. English too, sometimes.
With Passover coming up, the multicultural hubbub got me thinking. What are the Passover customs of all these different Jews?
Normally I’m not shy about collaring a stranger on the street and asking all kinds of nosy questions, but I wanted more information than I could get from a three-minute interview. So I turned to my friends, women who come from varied backgrounds. This week, I’ll interview Shosh, Hannah, and Michelle. I hope to have Part II ready for you next week, with friends from Ethiopian, Yemenite, and Kurdish homes.
1. What’s your ethnic background?
Shosh: Orthodox American parents, married to a Tunisian. I observe all-Tunisian customs now.
Hannah: Eastern European/Chassidic.
Michelle: German Sephardic.
2. Does your family have specific customs in preparing for Passover?
Shosh: We check the rice we’re going to eat on Passover 3 times. Toveling dishes in the sea is so much fun that I call dibs on it every year (Mimi: Jewish law requires that kitchenware made outside of Israel be purified by dipping it in the mikvah or in a natural body of water). The men also go to the sea instead of the mikvah. (In many communities, the men go to the mikvah before major holidays).
Hannah: Cleaning the house carefully, hiding pieces of chametz the night before, and searching for them with a candle.
Michelle: Just the traditional preparations.
3. What’s a typical Seder menu?
Shosh: 2 cooked dishes is the required minimum. A traditional fava bean, beet green, and lamb soup called bkila is served. The second dish varies. Funnily enough, chicken soup with matzah balls is always served. One year a Moroccan guest prepared delicious lamb on a bed of caramelized onions. Another year we had stuffed artichoke hearts cooked with peas. Rice is essential.
Hannah: In our home, my mother served matzah ball soup, brisket, matzah stuffing, and vegetables. Sponge cake for dessert. My parents both came from Hassidic backgrounds, but they dropped the Hassidic custom of not eating soaked matzah (gebrokts).
Michelle: Cold salmon instead of gefulte fish, chicken soup with matzah balls, lamb roast, roasted chicken, boiled potatoes, various vegetables, matzah shalet with lemon sauce, some other flourless cake.
Mimi: Michelle, what’s shalet?
A bit hard to describe. It is a “cake” that is made with soaked whole matzahs, eggs, lemon juice, lemon zest, sugar, almonds, and raisins. It is baked in hot oil in the oven and it gets a wonderful hard brown crust, but it is soft and squidgy inside.
4. Where do you get your matzahs? Are they hand-made?
Shosh: We buy handmade matzah with a Sephardic hechsher for the seder. For the rest of Passover we use machine-made.
Hannah: We would buy one box of hand-shmurah. No special brand or hechsher.
Michelle: Store-bought, no specific hechsher.
5. What’s your family’s charoset recipe?
Shosh: The Grandma makes it with lemon juice, so it’s a bit sour. My mother-in-law makes it sweet, with dates and grape juice.
Hannah: Apples, walnuts, sweet red wine, cinnamon.
Michelle: Italian charoset – secret recipe with fresh apples, dried fruits, nuts, and chestnut paste.
6. Does your family have foods reserved specially for Passover or the Seder?
Shosh: The bkila is for Rosh HaShana and Passover only. The Yemenite aunt makes matzah fatut (normally eggs scrambled with spongy lachuch bread; for Passover matzah is used).
Hannah: No.
Michelle: Matzah shalet and matzah fritters.
7. Are most foods home-made, or store-bought?
Shosh: Home-made.
Hannah: Home-made.
Michelle: Everything is home-made.
8. What’s on the Seder plate?
Shosh: Classic foods. (Mimi: a little obscure, but it would seem to be similar to the Seder plates described below.)
Hannah: Lettuce and horseradish, hard-boiled egg, parsley or potato, a bone with meat, salt water, charoset.
Michelle: Lamb shank bone or turkey leg, egg, horseradish root, romaine lettuce, charoset, and parsley.
9. What language do you read the Hagaddah in?
Shosh: Hebrew and a bit of Tunisian Arabic.
Hannah: Hebrew and Aramaic, accordingly.
Michelle: Hebrew.
10. Do you follow specific traditions at the Seder?
Shosh:
- The children put the afikoman (a matzah saved to eat at the very end of the meal) in a sack and carry it on their backs. They walk out, take a short walk, and come back in. The father asks them: “Where were you?”
They reply: “In Jerusalem.”
“Who did you meet?”
“The prophet Elijah.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That the Messiah is coming.”
- The host or person reading the Hagaddah out loud recites “ha lachma anya” three times (a paragraph beginning this is the bread of affliction that our forefathers ate in Egypt…). He holds a basket with the plate containing the matzahs in it, and walks around the table while chanting – and bumps everyone lightly on the head with it. (Mimi: This Sephardic custom physically reminds the participants of the oppression Jews experienced in Egypt and of our release from slavery.)
Hannah: We spill wine 10 times while reciting the 10 plagues. My family would dip a finger in the wine.
Michelle: We dip our pinky finger in the wine glass and dab it on a plate for the 10 plagues.
11. Are there customs or rituals that belong to your family alone?
Shosh: The youngest children are told the story of Abraham and the idols, and they chime in with whatever they remember. The story is then retold in Arabic, especially when the grandparents are there.
Also, the matzahs are covered and uncovered at specific times during the meal, as indicated in the machzor (Mimi: book of holiday prayers), which was written by the great-grandfather. He was an important rabbi in Tunisia.
Hannah: Don’t know of any.
Michelle: One year we were forced to have our Seder by candlelight because a terrible storm blew the electricity out. We loved the candlelit Seder, so we made it a tradition.
We take turns reading a stanza of Who Knows One and An Only Kid and recite it in one breath.
12. What’s your favorite part of the Seder?
Shosh: The songs.
Hannah: Listening to the children sing the Four Questions.
Michelle: All of the songs.
13. What’s your favorite Passover food?
Shosh: Matzah brie with lots of onions and shaped like hamburgers, yum…
Hannah: Matzah brie.
Michelle: Charoset!
14. Any special treatment for Eliyahu haNavi? (Elijah the Prophet, who is said to visit each family’s Seder when the host opens the door to recite “Pour Thy wrath over our enemies…”)
Shosh: We just open the door.
Hannah: We reserve a glass of wine for him.
Michelle: We reserve a special cup.
15. Share a Seder memory with us?
Shosh: My grandfather used to hide the afikoman in the same place every year – behind the white pillow on which he reclined. He always acted surprised when he found that it was gone. He used to hide it while everyone was washing their hands for the matzah. One year I stayed behind and saw him hiding it. He looked at me and winked, as if to say, “Don’t tell…”
Hannah: My parents always invited an elderly professor to the second Seder. He was very Reform. When we got to certain verses in the Hagaddah reading, he said, “So and so has made great strides in ascribing this passage to E instead of to P” – referring to biblical criticism and the authorship of the Bible. My father, a scholar himself, changed the subject.
Michelle: One of my favorite Seder stories is when one year, my Dad opened the door to Elijah and there stood a fawn. He looked at my Dad a second and ran off. Next year, a possum was on the doorstep. We laughed and said, “Next year it’ll be a goat!”
Mimi: Here’s one of mine. When I was about 7, my father’s best friend, a noted psychiatrist and neurosurgeon, came to the Seder. He sat next to me and for his own amusement, hypnotized me into “seeing” the wine in Elijah’s cup go down. Jeez. It really looked like an invisible mouth was sipping at the wine. I was afraid to touch the cup for years afterwards. But I’ve forgiven mischievous Dr. Kugler, may his memory be for a blessing.
Part II next week…
Late winter is a fine time for mushrooms in Israel. In fact, Israelis are showing a big new interest in cooking with all kinds of mushrooms, so good ones are available most of the year. But even hot house food tastes best when it’s grown in its natural season. Soon the weather will become hot and dry again, so this is the time to snatch up the best of those succulent fungi.
I saw these attractive champignon mushrooms in the shuk last week.

Selecting the firmest, one by one, I half-filled a bag. Clutching it to me and dreaming out the window on the bus home, I thought of mushroom soup and a leek/mushroom quiche. Possibly gnocchi with mushroom sauce. But I knew I’d still have mushrooms left over. Well, there’s duxelles, a way of preserving mushrooms as an essence so you have that unique flavor at hand any time.
It’s an ancient method. The only hi-tech improvement is using a food processor to chop the raw mushrooms if you don’t feel like hand chopping.
Duxelles
Ingredients:
500 grams – 1/2 lb. mushrooms, champignon or portobellos (white or brown). Rinse and wipe them dry. Make sure there’s no dirt on them.

2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
3 Tbsp. finely chopped shallot
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/2 tsp. dried thyme, sage, or crushed rosemary
1/4 cup dry white wine
Method:
1. Chop the mushrooms into fine dice. Or use your food processor.

2. Place mushrooms into a clean kitchen towel, one you don’t mind getting stained. Fold the towel to contain the mushrooms.
3. Wring out the mushrooms over a bowl. Squeeze out as much liquid as you can. Refrigerate and save the juice for soup or gravy.

4. Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter gently.
5. Add mushrooms, shallots, salt, pepper, and thyme.6. Sauté until mushrooms are dry and the aroma is intense. This should take no more than 5 minutes.
7. Stir in and melt the second tablespoon of butter.
8. Add the wine. Stir until it has evaporated.
10. Remove duxelles from heat and cool.
The duxelles are ready to use right away. To store for future use, pat the paste into a strip of tin foil, roll it closed, and freeze. Just cut off tablespoon-sized portions when you need them.

So how do you use duxelles?
- Spread a thin layer of duxelles on toast that’s been lightly rubbed with a garlic clove. Now you have bruschetta.
- Flavor any soup with a tablespoon or two.
- Start an omelet by melting some duxelles in your frying pan, then pouring the eggs over them.
- Spoon some over steamed vegetables or baked potatoes.
- Stir some into your next polenta. Or use duxelles as the topping for polenta (or pasta) instead of sauce.
- Make a mushroom butter: beat butter till its soft; add duxelles and taste to adjust salt & pepper. Delicious with grilled fish.
- Add to any sauce, including tomato sauce.
- Steam sweet potatoes; drain well; melt duxelles in a frying pan and roll the cooked sweet potatoes in them till they’re slightly glazed.
You see? Duxelles add body and mushroom flavor to any food.


Onion-za’atar bread twists with a surprise filling are a good pre-Passover treat.
How is it I still have so much flour? I’d better find ways to use it up before Passover. There are only three weeks.
I guess the Purim Panic got to me. I baked ma’amoul pastries, the ugly and delicious Prune and Chocolate loaf, Onion Za’atar Twists, and peanut butter cookies with cranberries (recipes follow). Challot for this Shabbat will use up a kilo of flour. But I still have too much flour in the house.
Here are some other ideas:
- Kreplach. Making pasta at home uses up a lot of flour, including the flour you use to dust surfaces. And if you have kreplach, you have to have soup. There’s dinner for you.
- Weekday bread for sandwiches and toasting.
- Pancakes or blintzes for dinner.
- Refresh the sourdough! That uses up 1/2 cup of flour right there. Not to mention if you decide to bake.
- Muffins for kids to take to school.
- Cake and cookies for Shabbat.
- Quiche. With soup or a salad on the side, you’ve got a meal.
I know I’ll run out of flour before getting to everything there. Good.
Meantime, let me show you the…
Onion-Za’atar Twists.
Yield: 10 roll-sized twists
Ingredients:
1-1/4 cup warm water
1 tablespoon dried yeast or 1 cube fresh yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
3- 1/2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons salt
more flour for dusting
2 large onions
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
pepper
more olive oil for drizzling
1 tablespoon za’atar spice – you may substitute2 tablespoons plain sesame seeds or a mixture of sesame seeds and oregano
Method:
1. Chop the onions coarsely. Fry them in the 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat till they are golden – about 10 minutes. Season them with salt and pepper.
2. Dissolve the yeast in the warm water.
3. Add sugar, flour, and salt to the yeast water. Mix well.
4. Knead briefly to obtain a smooth dough.
5. Cover the dough and set aside to rise for 1 hour.
6. Divide the dough into 10 pieces. Leave them on a floured surface.
7. Choose a piece of dough and roll it out into a fat rectangle.

8. Lay a tablespoon of seasoned sautéed onions along one of the long sides of the rectangle.

9. Roll it up twice and pinch the seam shut.

10. Make a loop and tuck the ends of the “snake” through it to make a twist.

11. Do the same with the remaining pieces of dough.
12. Cover and let them rise for 1/2 hour. Preheat the oven to 375 °F – 200°C.
13. Just before putting them in the oven, brush olive oil over each one and sprinkle with za’atar.

14. Bake the twists for 25 minutes or until they are golden brown.
These savory little breads are cool because you don’t see the filling until you bite into one and then – oh my onion goodness.

Other flour-using ideas on Israeli Kitchen (most using corn, another item many of us need to use up before Passover):

Folks, this is seriously ugly bread.
On the other hand, it’s delicious.
Dangerously, decadently delicious.
Having an entire loaf of this around is like having brought a full bag of pastries home from the bakery.
I’d always wondered about prunes and chocolate together. I once bought a cake based on the combination. It was heavy as a lead bomb and I threw it out. But the photograph in Bread, by Eric Treuille and Ursula Ferrigno, was so interesting that I said, What the heck, and baked it.

Oh, my.
Chocolate sweetness and and sweet/tart prune, held together in a sweet dough. Rich – did I say this is rich? And it’s not light. But not cloying at all. And so what if it’s, er, beauty-challenged? Some faces grow on you.
If you still have time to bake for Purim, try this. Cut thick slices, wrap each one up, and put them in your Purim baskets.
Prune and Chocolate Bread
Recipe taken from Bread by Eric Treuille and Ursula Ferrigno
Ingredients:
1/2 cube fresh yeast (1/4 0z. – 20 grams)
1-1/2 cups – 12 fl. oz. water
4 1/2 cups white flour
1-1/2 teaspoon flour
5 tablespoons- 1 oz. margarine or unsalted butter
2 cups -7 oz. - pitted prunes, chopped
2 cups - 7 oz. chocolate, chopped (I used chocolate chips)
1 beaten egg
Method:
1. Put the yeast in a small bowl and dissolve it with 1/2 cup of the water.
2. Put the flour and salt in a large bowl and mix.
3. Make a well in the flour/salt and pour the yeast water into it.
4. Mix the flour in, adding more water as needed to make a soft dough. It should be sticky.
5. Knead the dough till all the flour and water are incorporated, 5-10 minutes.
6. Put the dough into a floured bowl. Cover it and let it rise for 1 hour or until doubled.
7. Preheat the oven to 350°F – 180° C.
8. Push the risen dough down and knead it a few times. Cover it again and leave it alone for 10 minutes.
9. Add the prunes, chocolate, margarine or butter and the egg. Squish everything in with your hands, it works much better than trying to beat the dough with a spoon.
10. Lightly flour your work surface and knead the dough just a minute or two, till it can hold a shape.
Now you get to decide if you prefer one large round loaf to slice, or 8-10 buns. In the latter case, tear off lumps, shape them roughly, and bake them only 25-30 minutes.
11. Cover the loaf (or buns) and let it rise 30 minutes or until it’s light.
12. Bake for 45 minutes. Cool on a wire rack.
Note: the recipe calls for baking this in a greased 1 kg loaf pan, but I saw that the dough was too big to fit into mine. So I baked it as a boule. Less convenient to slice, but somehow impressive.

Don’t you just love that little punim?
Come and see what all the good kosher cooks are doing to get ready for Purim:
Sarah Melamed of Foodbridge put this recipe on her blog on January 25th, and I’ve cooked it twice since then. Even the Little One, who’s suspicious of vegetables, loved it. But – you know how it is – I adapted it somewhat. I made a double batch using dried herbs and white wine. Sarah’s recipe is the pure goods. My version is this variation.
Meatballs with Swiss Chard
Ingredients:
1 bunch of swiss chard, washed
2. 500 grams – 1 lb. ground turkey or beef
3 cloves of garlic
1 onion, grated
1 egg
2 tablespoons bread crumbs
1 teaspoon salt, or more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon dried, crushed herbs: sage, rosemary, oregano, thyme – alone or in any combination.
Juice of 1 lemon (I used 1/2 preserved lemon instead)
3 cloves garlic
1 cup water or chicken stock
1 cup white wine
1 small bunch scallions
Method:
1. Cut away the hard white stem of the Swiss chard leaves. Reserve them.
2. Put the green leaves in a large pan without any added water. Cook, covered, over low heat till they wilt.
3. Allow the greens to cool and chop them finely.
4. Into a bowl, put the meat, egg, onion, chopped Swiss chard, bread crumbs and spices.
5. Mix, then knead till you have a firm, well-blended mix.
6. Prepare a skillet with a little oil on the bottom. Fry the meatballs for 5 minutes on each side, just enough to make them hold together and to give them a good brown color.
7. Cut the white part of the beet stems into finger-sized pieces.
8. Fry the garlic in olive oil for 2 minutes and add the lemon juice.
9. Add the meatballs and beet stems. Cover with water or stock.Add 1 cup of white wine.
10. Cook, covered, 20 minutes or until the meatballs are done.
11. Uncover the pot and cook the liquid down to thicken it.
Note: I made a double batch, requiring a deep pot. To cover the meatballs with liquid, I needed much more than 1 cup. When the meatballs were done, I removed them from the pot and put them aside.
Heating the skillet where the meatballs had fried, I threw in the cup of wine and stirred to loosen up any savory bits. I then dissolved 1 teaspoon cornstarch in a few tablespoons of more wine and stirred it in. I added this liquid to the pot and simmered the liquid, uncovered. When it thickened slightly, I returned the meatballs to the pot until I was ready to serve.
12. Chop the scallions and scatter them over the meatballs just before bringing them to the table.
Really good.
Another note: To accompany this, I made white rice that had 1 peeled, chopped tomato, 1 bay leaf, and 2 cloves of crushed garlic in it.
Chef Moshe Basson, a quiet-spoken middle-aged man with skinny braid falling over his shoulder, took up a bunch of silver-grey leaves leaves and put them in a food processor. I was watching, along with about thirty others, at a Biblical cooking class in Eucalyptus, Basson’s Jerusalem restaurant.
Za’atar pesto. Why not?
Dried za’atar as the main ingredient in an oily dip, yes. Crumbled and sprinkled over pizza or roast chicken – all the time. But now I know I can make pesto from the fresh leaves with the juice still in them.
This is really a seasonal pesto, because fresh za’atar is available only for a few weeks. That’s now, towards the end of winter in the Middle East.
The next time I was in the shuk, I went from stand to stand looking for za’atar. No vendor had the familiar small round, light-green herb, but one picked a bunch of dark, spiky leaves out of a heap and bruised a few to release the odor. It smelled strongly of za’atar.
Consulting with chef Basson by phone, I learned that it’s winter savory – in Hebrew, tsatrah. He says that it’s part of the thyme family, as is za’atar. I decided to make the pesto as I’d seen him make it. I didn’t know what else to do with the leaves except hang them up to dry.
My notes from the cooking event weren’t exact, so I improvised the recipe out of the basic procedure I’d scribbled down. It took about 5 minutes to make, including toasting almonds, washing and drying the za’atar leaves, and peeling garlic. This pesto has the unmistakable taste of the Middle East in it.
Za’atar Pesto
Ingredients:
1 cup blanched almonds
2 cups fresh za’atar or winter savory leaves
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon sumac powder
3 garlic cloves
1 cup olive oil
1/4 cup lemon juice
Method:
1. Quickly toast the almonds in a dry frying pan. This should take only two minutes. Shake the pan a few times to distribute the almonds. Take it off the flame when they release a nutty, toasted aroma.
2. Rinse the za’atar leaves. Path them dry.
3. Into the food processor, put the almonds. Whizz them for half a minute.
4. Add the za’atar leaves. Process again for a minute.
5. Add the remaining ingredients and process till you have a rough sauce.
Recommended: spread some of this chunky, pungent pesto on slices of toasted baguette; top with feta cheese and put the slices into the oven so that the cheese melts.
Ma’amoul is the Arabic word for “filled.” To me, it evokes filling the mouth. It seems to me that people in this part of the world are especially fond of stuffed foods. Kids and grownups alike love vegetables and leaves filled with rice/meat combinations, from artichokes to zucchini - savory turnovers like sambusak with chickpeas (or meat, or potatoes) inside them, and sweets filled with dried fruit or nuts. Even dried fruit stuffed with nuts.
I wasn’t looking for them, but when I found molds for ma’moul cookies in Nazereth, I was a goner.
How could I resist using those hand-held molds to create cookies? How could they not be delicious, being perfumed with rosewater and filled with dates as they are? Or walnuts, or pistachios. In fact, the design on the mold traditionally indicates which filling the cookie has, so you can choose between them without having to take a bite first. Not that biting into a tender, crumbly ma’amoul – in the interests of science – is any great punishment.
I loved making these cookies, handling dough scented with rosewater. It was fun to fill the molds and knock them out onto my baking pan, seeing the beautiful little design imprinted on each cookie as it came out. Making them by hand is easy, though. Here, I’ll show you.
Ma’amoul, Middle-Eastern Stuffed Cookies
Yield: 24 ma’amoul
Preparation time for the dough:
10 minutes plus 1 hour resting time
Ingredients for the dough:
½ teaspoon active dry yeast
¼ cup warm water
1 tablespoon rosewater or orange flower water
1 large egg
½ cup unsalted butter or margarine, melted and cooled
1-1/2 cups coarse semolina
2 tablespoons sugar
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup confectioner’s sugar for dusting over finished cookies
Method:
1. In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in the water.
2 Add the rose- or orange flower water.
3. Add the egg and melted, cooled butter or margarine.
4. Add the semolina and mix.
5. Add the sugar and salt; mix.
6. Add the flour, mixing till the dough holds together in a ball.
7. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and set aside for 1 hour.
Ingredients for Date Filling:
¾ cup pitted dates
3 tablespoons sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons orange flower water plus 1-1/2 teaspoons rose water
Or 3 teaspoons either flower water
Method for Date Filling:
Place all the date filling ingredients in a food processor and process to a paste. Put the paste in a small bowl and set aside till you’re ready to stuff and bake the ma’amoul.
Ingredients for Nut Filling:
1-1/2 cups finely chopped walnuts or pistachios
2 tablespoons rose- or orange flower water
¼ cup sugar
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
Method for Nut Filling:
Simply mix everything up well. Put the filling in a small bowl and set aside.
To Stuff and Bake the Ma’amoul:
1. Preheat the oven to 350° F -190° C.
2. Prepare a cookie sheet by the method you prefer: line it with parchment, or grease it lightly, or lay a silicon sheet over the surface.
2. Use a tablespoon to take dough out – a level tablespoon each time. Flatten each piece onto the palm of your hand, and push it till it’s about a 3-inch circle.
3. Place 1 ½ teaspoons of the nut filling on top of the dough. Bring the edges of the dough up with your fingertips and press them together to seal the filling. Repeat with remaining dough and filling.
Or, simply hold some dough in the palm of your hand, poke a hole in the middle, and fill. Roll the ball of dough between your palms – lightly – to seal the filling.
Bake for 20-25 minutes until pale golden. Watch them after 20 minutes and don’t allow them to brown, as they will continue to harden while cooling. Transfer to a wire rack immediately. Dust with confectioner’s sugar.
Sambusak are savory turnovers filled with chickpeas, ground meat, cheese, or potatoes . They’re good as appetizers or to pack into a lunch box, or to have on hand frozen when guests are coming and you need something to offer, in a hurry.
I like this spicy chickpea filling. But it’s easy to vary the filling with cheese and scallions, or ground beef or mashed potatoes mixed with the spiced, fried onion mixture detailed below.
You can either fry or bake sambusak. While it’s healthier to bake them, there’s something about a fried sambusak…particularly a deep-fried one…like the kind you can pick up in the shuk or at shwarma stands…that’s so good. But then, so many dangerous things are.
I fry these yeast-raised ones in shallow oil. If you prefer to bake your sambusak, use the second dough recipe, which is unleavened.
Chickpea Sambusak
yield: about 20 pastries
Ingredients for Yeasted Dough:
1/4 oz. dry yeast, or 1 cube fresh yeast
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons sugar
1 cup water
3 cups all-purpose flour
Method:
In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in the water.
2. Add the salt, baking powder, and sugar. Stir.
3. Add the flour a cup at a time. Mix, then knead till the dough is firm.
4. Cover the bowl and allow the dough to rise for 2 hours.
Ingredients for Simple, Unleavened Dough
3 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons salt
8 ounces unsalted margarine or butter at room temperature
1/2 cup cold water
1 egg, beaten for glazing baked sambuska
sesame seeds for baked sambuska
Method:
1. In a medium bowl, mix the flour with the salt.
2. In a large bowl, beat the margarine or butter till its creamy. Add the flour, mixing well as you go.
3. Add the water and mix well.
4. Knead the dough till a smooth ball forms. Cover the bowl and put it aside. The dough will ferment slightly while you’re busy making the filling.
Ingredients for the Chickpea Filling:
2 cans of chickpeas
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium onions, finely chopped
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon white pepper – or use 1 teaspoon of either white or black pepper
oil for shallow frying
Method:
1. Put the chickpeas in a strainer. Drain and rinse them.
2. Put them through a food processor till they’re a chunky paste, or blend them.
3. Fry the onions in the olive oil till translucent.
4. Add the dry spices to the onions; stir and cook about 3 minutes.
5. Add the spiced onions to the chickpeas and mix everything up well.
Form the pastries
1. Take pieces out of the dough till you have 20 equal-sized pieces. Pat each piece into a rough circle in the palm of your hand as you work.
2. Flour your work surface and roll each patty into a circle about 3 inches in diameter. Don’t be afraid to roll them out thin, especially with the yeasted dough.
3. Place a tablespoon of stuffing in the middle of each circle. Fold the dough over to make a triangle, hiding the stuffing.
4. Pinch the edges of the sambusak together, or crimp them with a fork, to seal them.
Fry the sambusak in shallow oil over medium heat. Turn them over when the first side is golden, and fry the other side. Drain on paper towels or crumbled newspaper and serve hot.
Or, preheat the oven to 350°F – 180°C. Lay the sambusak in a baking pan. Glaze the upper sides with beaten egg; sprinkle sesame seeds on top. Bake for 30 minutes or until golden-brown.
Unbaked (or un-fried) sambusak can be frozen in layers, then packed into heavy ziploc bags. Put them straight into hot oil or a preheated oven when you take them out of the freezer, and proceed as above.
Every shuk has entrances and exits, some more open and inviting, some more secret. This entrance to the shuk in Nazareth has a strangely medieval air to me. Even with the electric cables, cars, and plastic objects, not to mention the evenly-cobblestoned street, I can still imagine men in long robes and women with their faces veiled strolling through.

These aluminum cooking pots and the primus cooker made me think of delicious Middle-Eastern home cooking. Women create mouth-watering savory meals out of such simple equipment here.

Chamomile in damp bunches offered by a sidewalk vendor. He was a young man who just set up a few boxes of herbs and greens on the sidewalk.

Jerusalem sage for stuffing.

And, I’m sorry to say, za’atar. I say I’m sorry because I’m fairly sure this was gathered from the wild, where it’s a protected plant.

The vendor weighed out his produce on this little scale, right there on the ground.

We descended through the shuk.

These shoes might be worn by some Oriental princess…or not.

In any case, here is a cobbler to fix your shoes when the soles wear out.

The owner of a metalworks shop contemplating a knotty problem laid out on his table.

A subtle arched corridor leads to a sunny exit. The shuk was closing for the day

A small cemetery tucked away in the middle of the shuk.

And out again, coming up to this decorated door.

Sarah and I visited a coffee shop in the shuk too – another post. Meantime, enjoy these souvenirs.
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