Hot-weather recipes. Living in the hot, humid center of Israel, I naturally accumulated a bunch of them. Easy-going chicken recipes; lots of fish; some breads. Desserts that sit lightly. Here’s a roundup of the best, for your hot-weather cooking.

Soup:

Eggplant Soup

Chicken:

Nut/Herb-Crusted Chicken Fillets

Roast Chicken with Figs

Meatballs with Swiss Chard

Vegetables:

Peperonata

Majadra

Golden Herbed Potato Wedges

Eggs:

Shakshoukah

Fish:

Moroccan Shabbat Fish

Grilled Sea Bass in Spicy Lemon Marinade

Baked Fish in a Walnut Crust

Quick Breads:

Peach Cobbler Muffins

Cornbread-covered Ratatouille

Desserts:

Cherry Cobbler

Flim-Flam Flan

Orange Rolls

Malabi, Middle-Eastern Milk Pudding

Fruit Soup

The Little One dashes out to school every morning without breakfast.

“Can you buy me energy bars?” she asked plaintively. “I get so hungry till the 10:00 o’clock break.”

Reminding her that getting out of bed 15 minutes earlier would give her time for breakfast just doesn’t do it. Those precious last minutes in bed…well, I know the feeling.

But I won’t buy commercial energy bars. They’re so full of high-fructose corn syrup and soy flour, it scares me. So I looked at a bunch of online recipes and adapted this one from Serious Eats.

The bars were a hit with the Little One. Husband says they’re good enough for dessert. Yes, with their peanut butter, honey, and dried fruit, they are high in calories. I made them for an active teenager who’s actually losing a little too much weight. I’m happy to hand her one to munch while riding the bus, knowing exactly what’s in her breakfast and that it’s all good for her.

Note: Israelis may use Silan, the runny date honey, instead of bee’s honey or maple syrup. I did.

Best Energy Bars

Ingredients:

1 cup honey, maple syrup, or Silan date honey

2/3 cup natural peanut butter

2 -2/3 cup rolled oats

1 cup whole wheat flour

1/2 cup wheat germ

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 cup dried coconut, unsweetened

1/2 cup raisins

1/4 cup sunflower seeds

1/4 cup pumpkin seeds

1/4 cup flax seeds

1/2 cup chopped dried apricots – you may substitute dates, cranberries, or any other dried fruit.

Method:

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F – 180°C.

2. In a large bowl, mix the honey and the peanut butter.

3. In another bowl, mix all the other ingredients very well.

4. Stir the dry ingredients into the honey/peanut butter mixture. Blend everything very well again. You will have a sticky mass. Keep lifting it off the bottom of the bowl and mixing everything up.

5. Pat the dough into a square cake pan lined with baking paper or one that’s lightly greased. You’ll get sticky fingers unless you oil your hands first. Try to keep the dough even and push it into a square shape. It doesn’t have to reach to the edges of the pan, but keep it square.

6. Bake for 25 minutes. Cut the dough into bars while it’s still warm. However, don’t try lifting any bars out till everything has cooled down completely, or they will crumble. They will be firm when they’re cool.

They’re craggy, but they’re good.

This recipe is taken from Elizabeth David’s Italian Food. Mrs. David herself borrowed it from Edmond Richardin’s L’Art du Bien Manger (1913). You’ll see that the recipe needs no adaptation; it’s as good today as it was 100 years ago.

Leaves are sprouting on grape vines now, and it’s exciting to know that there are different ways to eat them than just stuffed with rice. I really enjoyed this recipe, where the vines leaves lend their lemony flavor to the mushrooms, and the mushrooms spread their goodness around to the oil. The only thing is, I can’t give you exact quantities. How many mushrooms and vine leaves will depend on the size of your baking dish.

I used 6 vine leaves and a small basketful of champignon mushrooms.

Cèpes a la Gènoise – Mushrooms Baked in Vine Leaves

Ingredients:

Fresh, unbrined vine leaves to cover the bottom of the baking dish

Olive oil

Fresh, plump mushrooms – any variety

Coarse salt

Garlic cloves

Pepper

Method:

Preheat the oven to 325° F -160°C.

1. Clean the mushrooms by your favorite method: brush the dirt off them, cut away any unattractive spots, or rinse them. But dry them gently.

2. Slice the stems away, cutting them into chunks. Reserve them.

3. Sprinkle the mushrooms with plenty of coarse salt and put them in the oven “to dry out” as M. Richardin says. In my experience, they don’t dry out, they release a little juice. Never mind.

3. In the meantime, line your baking pan with vine leaves. Pour enough olive oil to cover the leaves well.

4. Place the baking pan over a low flame and let the vine leaves cook in the oil till they change color. It shouldn’t boil, however.

5. Now place the mushrooms, stem side up, on top of the vine leaves.

6. Bake for 30 minutes, uncovered.

7. Take the baking pan out and sprinkle the reserved, chopped mushroom stems over the cooked dish. Tuck at least 4, if not 7 or 8, unpeeled cloves of garlic in the corners and around inside.

8. Bake a further 10 minutes. Grind some fresh pepper over the dish and serve right away, with bread for mopping up the juice and olive oil mixture.

Eat the vine leaves, too. They are addictively delicious.

Save the oil and juices for the next time, or for cooking something else. I can imagine a vegetable soup or a chicken dish flavored with this mushroomy delicate oil.

The photo from my previous post is worth repeating – if only because it’s the only decent one I have of this dish.

So I took a bus out to the shuk yesterday, in the middle of a sandstorm. It was eerie. A thin fog of yellow dust hovered everywhere, clinging to the skin and the lips, blurring the outlines of trees  in the middle distance, almost erasing distant buildings.  Now I know how African dust tastes, because this blew in from the Sahara. The radio broadcast warnings: pregnant women, small children, and asthmatics, stay home today.

Well, I’m none of those. And I needed to buy food. So off I went into the yellow distance, intent on tomatoes for slow roasting,  leafy greens, and ground turkey.

Of course I bought the shuk out.

Who can walk past a display of fresh, purple figs and refrain from buying a box? Not I. Who can resist the allure of glistening fish, red of gill and bright-eyed, on their beds of ice? Or of firm, plump mushrooms?

Oh woe, not I. Even the humble cauliflower seemed to be calling my name.

And everything so much cheaper than at my neighborhood supermarket.

So I bought, and bought, and soon had five or six bags dangling from my fingers. But one thing I was longing for wasn’t to be found. The herb vendors gave me funny looks when I asked if by chance they had grape leaves.

I’d seen them in the Shuk HaCarmel, I explained. Oh, that’s a different clientele, they said.

I was sad. Those mushrooms cooked in grape leaves were so good, I’d had the taste in my mouth all week. I already had the mushrooms, all I needed was some grape leaves.

I was also already out of money. Just as well, I said to myself. If I had more money, I’d keep buying. Now for the trip home with all these bags.

Just on the edge of the shuk, a few old people sit on the sidewalk and sell produce from their own gardens. It’s always worth casting an eye on what they have. Usually it’s just bunches of green onions or spinach – one of them used to sell gat but I think he’s been, er,  discouraged to do so by the authorities. I shlepped past, in a hurry for the bus.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I sighted grape leaves.

A little old lady with glasses like bottle bottoms and a long braid down her back was sitting patiently on a stool, bundles of grape leaves on her lap.

Oh, help. And me out of cash. I stopped in front of her, disentangled myself from my bags, and asked the price. NIS 5 for a smallish bundle. All right. Maybe I can dig 5 shekels out of my purse somewhere. You know how it is with purses – they tend to trap little coins in their corners. If you’re persistent, you can usually excavate a few out.

I found 15 shekels. Oh, joy! The lady handed over three bundles, which turned out to be a fair amount because grape leaves are so thin. And I went home to cook my mushrooms and photograph my purchases for you.

What would you make from these ingredients? You know those TV cooking shows where chefs have to produce a meal out of a few dissimilar ingredients – in ten minutes? Tell me what you would make – it doesn’t have to cook in ten minutes.

From left to right, top row: Ground turkey and fillet of chicken breast. On top, coriander. Tomatoes, figs, Swiss chard.

Middle row: champignon mushrooms, grape leaves, bass fish.

Bottom row: Portobello mushrooms, pine nuts, basil, and in the corner, sliced dark Russian bread.

I’ll tell you one of the things I did make, and that was mushrooms baked in grape leaves.

Recipe follows, next post.

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.

Breakfast today didn’t inspire me. I drank my cup of coffee in front of the computer and started banging away on the keyboard, thinking of many things but not food. When 10:30 o’clock rolled around and I realized that my stomach was protesting, I went to the kitchen and surveyed the contents of the fridge.

About a cup and a half of leftover spaghetti sauce.

Some yellow cheese.

Eggs.

Eggs. I could make a good little brunch out of those eggs and the leftover spaghetti sauce and cheese. Shakshoukah! Too substantial for breakfast, just right for brunch. And how Middle-Eastern. Encouraged, I rooted through the vegetable bin and found a couple of spring onions. I was set.

When you order shakshoukah in cafes, they serve it so hot with chili that frankly, it’s too hot. In restaurants like Dr. Shakshuka‘s, it comes garnished with sausage. It feels right there, but at home, I like it with cheese. And when eating out, you’ll get lots of spongy white bread to mop up the sauce. For me, whole wheat bread or sourdough onion bread does it better. Am I getting xenofoodphobic? I like my mild, home-made version best.

Shakshoukah, Mimi’s Way

serves 1 for brunch or a light meal anytime

Ingredients:

1- 1/2 cups  spaghetti sauce

2 eggs

1/4 cup cheese, any variety, cubed or snipped into bits, which is what I did

2 spring onions, thinly sliced

salt and pepper to taste

2 slices of bread

Method:

1. Pour your sauce into a frying pan. Get it hot, over a medium flame.

2. Break each egg into the hot sauce.

3. Scatter the cubes or bits of cheese around the entire contents of the pan.

4. Scatter the diced green onion around likewise.

5. Salt and pepper the dish – freshly ground pepper is best of course. If you like chili, by all means, shake some flakes over it. Or you might like to heat a chili up in the sauce before adding the eggs.

6. Lower the heat and leave the pan alone for about 10 minutes or till the eggs are set to your liking. You’ll need to move the whites around a little to make sure all of them are cooked through.

Serve with bread.

Tea with mint traditionally accompanies this, but I did the American thing and washed it all down with milk.

It was really good shakshoukah.

It’s a collection of links to blog entries discussing recipes, food traditions, stories, Jewish law, restaurant or cookbook reviews – anything related to kosher food. For example, this month mominisrael shows us a cooking ingredient spreadsheet; Pesky Settler presents a psychedelic tie-dyed cheesecake; and I submitted my cholent entry.

Batya at me-ander is hosting this month’s KCC, up now. Be sure to visit and get the full story on what the kosher foodies are talking about and cooking.

And next month’s KCC will be here, at Israeli Kitchen. Submit your link here to show the blogosphere your food thoughts. Deadline for submission is October 25th. Hope to see your link soon!

The Nine Days before Tisha B’Av are winding down, and so is our desire to eat fish.  I picked up  my cookbooks, turning the pages at the fish recipes, looking for something interesting and different. I found it in Claudia Roden’s Book of Jewish Food. Kefta de Poisson au Coriandre et Citron Confit – fish cakes lightly stewed in a sauce of coriander leaves and preserved lemon.

The combination of onions, plenty of coriander, and lemons, mellowed together with a little pungent turmeric, makes a most delicious tangy sauce for the light fish cakes. We loved the dish. I had to promise the Little One that I’d make it again, many times.

Kefta de Poisson – Fish Cakes Stewed in Herb and Lemon Sauce

Adapted from The Book of Jewish Food, by Claudia Roden

Printable version here.

Serves 6

Ingredients

Sauce:

1 large onion, chopped into large dice

5 Tblsp. olive oil

1/2 tsp. turmeric

The skin of 1 pickled lemon, coarsely chopped. Lacking that, peel a fresh lemon and chop the flesh.

Salt and white pepper

1/2 cup chopped coriander

Fish cakes:

1 kg. – 2 lb. white fish, either filleted or ground

1 slice of white bread (I used a thick slice of Sourdough Walnut Herb Bread). It should be covered in cold water till wet through, then squeezed as dry as possible between your hands till you have damp ball.

1/2 onion, finely chopped

Salt and white pepper

1/4 tsp. turmeric

1/2 tsp. powdered ginger, or 1/4 tsp. freshly grated

4 Tblsp. rinsed, chopped coriander leaves

1 egg

Method:

1. First, make the sauce. Use your biggest frying pan. Pour the olive oil into it and get it hot.

2. Fry the onions in the olive oil till they become translucent.

3. Add the remaining sauce ingredients and sauté everything till it’s all quite soft. Remove from the flame, to be reheated when the fish cakes are ready to cook.

4. Now, prepare the fish.

If you are using whole fillets, whizz them in the food processor, but don’t put them in till you have already processed the moist bread, onions, seasonings, and egg.

When those are very well chopped, then add the fish. Make sure there’s no skin, or you’ll have to fish out rags of skin from the puréed mass afterwards, and that’s no fun.

Process only till everything is well chopped and blended.

If you’re using ground fish, just mix the onions, seasonings and egg up and mix them into the fish, beating well.

2. Reheat the sauce, then turn the flame down to low.

3. With wet hands, form thick patties about 4 cm. – 2″ across. (This feels like handling gefulte fish.) Put them into the hot sauce and let them cook for 15-20 minutes.

Check after 10 minutes; if  each patty has a little “skirt” of egg around it, turn them over.

It doesn’t take long to finish cooking. Check after 5 minutes; the underside should be golden and maybe starting to stick to the pan.

Serve with rice, steamed green beans, and sliced tomatoes for a pretty presentation and satisfying meal.

The sight of a big, red watermelon always fills me with optimism . I guess it’s because watermelon brings back childhood memories of hot, lazy summer days when we were all small and life was good. At the beach, our mother would lure us out of the water for a break, offering us red, juicy slices cut off a half watermelon that was cold from our insulated box . Hunkering down on the sand in our bathing suits, still dripping salt water and a bit dazed with swimming, we would bite with gusto into the “smile” of the slice, glad to hear that crisp, yielding sound as our teeth met melon. Sweet juice running down our chins and fingers, an almost salty flavor as we got closer to the rind. We’d collapse, replete, onto the sand, careless of stickiness and the heat. Mom would push us towards the sweet-water shower and then we’d rest under the beach umbrella for a while.

Or at home, late in the afternoon when lunch was hours behind us and dinner was still some time ahead. Bowls filled with those juicy red cubes would appear – Mom’s strategy to keep us happy till dinner was ready. We would feast.

So I was glad to see watermelons on display at the supermarket when I was there yesterday. I pushed the shopping cart closer, to reach for a good one. But hist – what was that?! Among the red, there were yellow watermelons. They’re a novelty in Israel. At first I thought they were a hybrid of some sort. Out of curiosity, I  bought half a deep-yellow one. We all sat down to try it out. I didn’t know what to expect, but found that it had the true, sweet, watermelon flavor.

So I typed “yellow watermelons” onto a search engine and came up with this Wikepedia article. There I learned that there are 1200 varieties of this fruit, and what’s more, that it’s not a real fruit but a vegetable. (I was kind of sorry I learned that – I think I’ll forget I learned that and go back to thinking of watermelon as fruit.)

It would be neat to fill up a bowl with balls of red and yellow watermelon – maybe some cantaloupe too – when I give a little dinner party for my birthday next week.

Whee! Summer just got more fun.