Recipe after the jump.

Strawberry Grapefruit Compote
Strawberries
Grapefruit zest (that would be the rind, grated)
Sugar
Water

Oh, it’s so easy!

1. Chop the strawberries.
2. Zest the grapefruit (that means grating the peel of the grapefruit).
3. Add the strawberries and grapefruit zest to a pot.  Add sugar to taste, and a couple teaspoons of water.
4. Simmer for about 10 minutes, until the strawberries are soft.  Mash with a fork if you prefer smaller pieces in your compote.  Watch the pot; as the strawberries cook, the compote will become more liquidy, but if all the water boils off, add more.

Presto! We self-indulgently recommend pairing the compote with Honey Stella Bread, or drizzled over vanilla ice cream.  Store the remaining compote in a jar in the fridge, it should keep for a couple weeks.  And I know, if you were looking for specific measurements above, you didn’t find them.  But amounts of grapefruit zest and sugar depend on how sour and sweet, respectively, you want your compote.  I go with about 1 teaspoon zest and 1/2 teaspoon sugar per cup of strawberries, and know that as you cook the compote longer, it gets more sweet and less tangy. One of the best parts about a compote is that it’s great to experiment with.  Strawberries and grapefruit are favorite fruits of mine, and the sweet/tangy blend the combination provides is delightful, but the process is simple enough and works with all kinds of fruit, so experiment!

Dearest Readers,

Ay! Ay! Okay! Okay! Zeitouzy! Zeiteezy!

Al-Masri al-Yum and the whole TBE family wish to inform you that we’ve started a new food-related twitter, Zeitouzy. The reason we named it that can be found in our inaugural tweet.

Expect all the unintelligible inside jokes and willful obscurantism of our previous endeavors, which will constitute reviews of restaurants into which you may never set foot.

In addition to our new venture, we’re proud to announce an important addition to Doha’s food-tweeting scene, forgetfood. This one was begun in the Nabokovian Speak, Memory tradition of remembering what’s good and what is yanni not so nice.

All the best,

TBE

Let’s be honest – 50% of the reason I bought this was the packaging alone. Could you have passed up the font, the psychedelic flowery swirls straight out of the 60s, the little Camembert slice levitating over the apples?  The other 50% has something to do with the fact that we’ve just had a lovely, generous houseguest who arrived from Paris toting several varieties of cheeses we hadn’t even thought about in months.  The cheeses were promptly devoured, which means that when our guest returned to France, we were left with cravings for fromage like the stuff that had briefly graced our fridge… but weren’t exactly prepared to pay import prices at the supermarket.  Oh, that elusive midrange merchandise…

So the verdict is that Mega Camembert (Made in Egypt) is worth approximately 16le, which is convenient, because that’s exactly how much it costs.  It’s not amazing.  The white exterior had a foamy texture, and we’ve no idea how the manufacturers managed that.  It tastes like Camembert about as much as local ‘special’ cheddar tastes like cheddar.  It’s an approximation.  But it would be pretty good melted in an omelette, and when the imported alternatives are upwards of 40le, it’s nice to know you have options.

True to our word, we’re back at you with the first of some Thai dishes.  The lemongrass and tamarind we found at Alfa last week were just begging to be put to good use, and we were all to happy to oblige.  Loosely based off this recipe for Tom Yum soup, we found plenty of useful suggestions for substitutions at Thai Kitchen, but were able to get our hands on a surprising number of the ingredients.  The great success of this soup, however, was the broth – spicy, sour, fragrant – and all from scratch.  We have a love-hate relationship with Maggi bouillon cubes, as of course we want our soup broth to taste like something (hopefully something delicious, and definitely like more than water), but the grimy residue left in pots and bowls after a Maggi-based soup has been devoured is…. unappealing, to say the least.  So we took a stab at making the broth ourselves, and were pleasantly surprised with the results.

Even with all the lemongrass and lemon rind and lemon juice in this recipe, we couldn’t get enough of that citrus tang, so we paired this soup with limoncello. Second good decision of the night.

Oh, and did we mention this soup is vegan?  Don’t let that let you think it’s not delicious.  It’s vegan, vegetarian, and delicious.

Recipe after the jump.

(Vegan) Tom Yum Soup

For the broth:

2 stalks lemongrass, (see our previous post on where to find fresh lemongrass) cut into 1-inch pieces, and slightly bruised with mortar and pestle.  We are aware this last partsounds like a terrible Medieval punishment, but it does bring out the flavor of the lemongrass.

3 whole kaffir lime leaves – if anyone knows where this can be found in Cairo, we would surely appreciate the tip-off.  Until then, we substituted the juice and rind of 3 lemons (small Egyptian lemons, mind you), and 2 bay leaves.

1-2 chilis, de-seeded and roughly chopped, OR 1-2 teaspoons chili sauce OR 1/2 teaspoons dried crushed chili – spice content, as always, should be to your own tastes; there’s no sense in scalding your taste buds just because a recipe suggests a certain amount of heat. We suggest adding one chili in the beginning to flavor the broth, and just before adding the vegetables, testing for spiciness and adding chili sauce or dried chili to bring the spiciness to your liking.

3 green onions / spring onions

4 cloves garlic, minced

1.5-inch piece ginger, grated or minced – galangal is also an option, but as we haven’t located any in Cairo, ginger is a fine alternative.

1 tablespoon brown sugar (for where to find brown sugar, check this previous post)

1-2 tablespoons soy sauce – soy sauce is a rather overpowering flavor compared to the more aromatic lemongrass, so we recommend adding the soy sauce slowly and tasting as you go.

1/2 cup fresh basil – reehaan in Arabic (ريحان)

1/2 cup fresh cilantro/fresh coriander, roughly chopped – kozbara in Arabic (كزبرة)

More than just broth:

1-2 cups soft tofu, sliced into cubes – we have yet to locate a reliable source of tofu in Cairo, so unfortunately, this time our recipe went without.  Next time, on a reader’s suggestion, we’ll check the Alfa in Dokki.

2 cups fresh mushroom, sliced

4 cups bok choy, roughly chopped – Alfa and Metro both have been stocking bok choy lately.

Inspired by Bisoux at The Great American Breakfast Quest (former Cairene, by the way), I decided to try a Cairo twist on her recipe for Agave Beer Bread.  While she suggests the bread as a perfect activity for those snowed in on the East Coast of the US, ideally paired with blanket fortresses and Scrabble extravaganzas, I didn’t think I could wait till I see snow again to try this creation.  I’ll also have to wait to try her Guinness, Vermot Wheat Beer, and Pennsylvania Lager variations, but that just can’t be helped, so until then, I’ll settle for Stella.

This recipe is for those of you who simply can’t get enough Stella for all the Baladi Bars in Cairo, those who claim Stella runs through your veins, who scoff at foreigner friends’ inquiries of “Oh, do you mean Artois?” – and also for those of you who have admitted to yourself that, garnished with a lemon or not, you’re just holding out for those beers from home, and perhaps “The Taste of Egypt” will taste better baked in the oven.

The advantages of this bread, as Bisoux enthuses, are that it takes just an hour to make – no kneading, rising, or entire afternoons needed.  “It’s a good way to use up those extra bottles of beer leftover after a party. Oh, and it’s pretty much foolproof!”  The crust to this bread is simply divine: thick, crusty, and obviously blessed by the Stella Fairy (surely it’s not due to the amount of butter drizzled on top pre-baking!). The bread itself is somewhere between a traditional savory loaf, and a sweeter, more cake-y bread like banana bread.  Try it with cheese (Egyptian Cheddar is always a good choice), jam, or more butter, perhaps graced by a sprinkling of cinnamon & sugar.

Recipe after the jump.

Honey Stella Bread

3 cups flour

2 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons honey

1 small can beer (330ml)

4 tablespoons melted butter

1. Pre-heat oven to 350 °F / 175 °C.  (Our oven, temperamental creature that it is, insists on burning the bottom of everything we bake, even at the lowest temperature setting.  Consider investing in an oven temperature gauge, as TBE has previously suggested, or if you’re as of yet unfamiliar with the disposition of your oven, remember to check the loaf frequently, and adjust the temperature as needed.  Also, the copious amounts of butter melted overtop the loaf have a tendency of bubbling over as the loaf rises, dripping on to the bottom of the oven, and burning.  If the loaf nearly fills the pan you’re baking it in, put something underneath the pan to catch any dripping butter.)

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.  Stir in the beer and honey.

3. Pour half of the melted butter into the loaf pan.  Spoon batter into the pan, and pour the rest of the butter on top.

4. Bake for 50-60 minutes, until golden brown or a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. (While the loaf is in the oven, try your hand at the online Stella Bar Game.)

5. Let cool, and serve!

***

Oh Alfa Market, you chamber of secrets, you hidden temple of wonders.  Last week I found bok choy and fresh bean sprouts in the vegetable aisle, and this week?  Lemongrass!  Pair that with the tamarind nabbed from the Asian foods section, and I feel some Thai dishes coming on.  I’ve heard legends of tofu hidden amongst the leafiness of vegetabledom in Alfa, but my searches have yet to be met with success.  The Asian foods shelf is bountifully stocked, however, featuring rice noodles, dried seaweed, tapioca pearls, a variety of pastes and sauces, and more.  Fans of Mexican fare can also find tortillas here, both soft flour tortillas and hard corn tortilla shells.

Thusly: the upside of Alfa includes the existence of foods I dared not hope could be found in Cairo.  The downside: availability / reliability… I’m still dreaming of the day when I can find bok choy, sprouts, tofu, and lemongrass all on the same trip to the store.

Lemongrass: 7 le
Tamarind: 10 le

Alfa Market is located in Zamalek, on 4 El Malek El Afdal St. Pass the moat, Olmec, and the Steps of Knowledge; beside the Supreme Council of Antiquities.  Alternatively, if you’re heading towards Mohandiseen on 26th of July, turn right one street after the second Misr gas station (the last street before the bridge) and as the road veers to the left, Alfa Market is on your left.  They deliver.  Tel: 19299, 02-27370805, 02-27370802, 02-27370801

Food for thought: Lady Gaga video shoot or military pomp and circumstance?

As some of you may know, TBE’s editorial staff has had it up to here with Cairo’s cold, cold weather, and we’re making the move to a warmer climate. Al-Masri al-Yum will soldier on, however, under the stewardship of a new editor, the estimable “Members Only,” whose posts you’ve no doubt been enjoying over the last several days.

As any princess of power will tell you, Iranian food is quite delicious. It was with that in mind that our correspondent “Members Only” (name change pending) took a recent meal at Cairo’s hottest Iranian restaurant. Her review follows.

***

As Craig David once inquired rhetorically: “What’s your flava?  Tell me, what’s your flava?” Well Craig, we’re digging the flavors at the Iranian restaurant Shiraz, in Mohandiseen.  Iranian food tends to incorporate aromatic flavors like saffron, pistachio, and rosewater, yet does not shy away from stronger tangy flavors like lemon and pomegranate syrup.  We were impressed with the variety of flavors that each held up on their own and also worked well together, a marker of a good restaurant.  Don’t expect to find spicy dishes, but do expect some surprising yet rewarding flavor combinations.

Upon being seated, we were presented with a heaping platter of unassembled salad ingredients, a spread that makes the nibbles at Stella Bar pale in comparison, and would make Watership Down characters jealous. When we tried to order Sabz & Paneer off the menu, we were told that it was already sitting in front of us.  Our house expert on Iranian food, however, informed us that Sabz & Paneer should be an assortment of some kind of feta-like cheese (crumbly, white, and strong in taste), walnuts and fresh herbs, usually basil, parsley and chives.

For appetizers, we ordered the Mirza Qasemmi (wild herbs and spinach marinated with anzarot sauce and saffron mixed with yogurt) and the Kashk Bademjan (grilled and ground eggplant mixed with sour cream, yogurt, virgin olive oil and herbs).  The Mirza Qasemmi was lightly sour with a full spinach flavor, and a creamy texture that contrasted nicely with the crisp fried onion garnish.  The Kashk Bademjan was a welcome alternative to babaganoug, lacking the weightiness that comes with tahina, and instead boasting a fresh taste thanks to the cilantro and yogurt dollop.  We highly recommend both.

Our vegetarian contributor ordered the Aash Soup (beans and vegetables soup), which was a complete disappointment.  To employ our favorite meal critique: “Not only was it bad, but there wasn’t very much of it.”  We would describe the soup as uninspiring and rather goopy.  Plus, it was filled with unwanted chunks of chicken, completely unadvertised in the description on the menu, and lacking in any beans, which were advertised.  Boo.

The bread, on the other hand, was a winner, serving as the ideal vessel to deliver the mezzes to our mouths.  Reminiscent of thin, woodfired pizza crusts, the bread was fresh out of the oven, warm and pleasingly smoky.

For mains, we ordered Khorshet Fesenjan (chicken with dried plums and yellow split peas in pomegranate syrup) and Khorshet Sabzi (a mix of seven types of herbs, including spinach, dill, fenugreek, parsley, and cilantro).  Both dishes came with rice, as it would be unimaginable to eat the khorshet without rice.  We ordered saffron rice, which was garnished with currants and a pat of butter.  Every grain was perfectly cooked, and in contrast to the Aash Soup, it was delicious and there was tons of it.  Score.  The Khorshet Fesenjan was a medley of different flavors: at once sweet, sour, and savory.  The first bite was amazing, bringing oohs and aahs around the table, however the intensity of the flavor increased the more we ate, and in the end it was slightly overpowering.  Basically, this dish is delicious, but perhaps best split between two people or eaten alongside an appetizer or another khoresh.  The Khoresh Sabzi was equally tantalizing, while offering a substantially different flavor.  While meat was not mentioned in its menu description, the dish included chunks of lamb, which is an essential part of its traditional preparation.  The lamb was perfectly cooked, tender and practically falling apart, while the deep rich greens confirmed the seven herb claim to fame.  Scrumptious.  Strangely, however, the food arrived with haressa (a red chili paste), which doesn’t normally feature in Iranian food, and was out of place.

The upsides: Shiraz excels at bringing out the flavor of the ingredients, without relying on too much sugar, salt, or fats.  It offers rich flavors, not rich food; the dishes were filling without being heavy.  The portions are encouraging: two main dishes with rice and appetizers can easily feed three people.  The atmosphere of the restaurant was pleasant, it was clean and comfortable, with semi-interesting decor.  We are happy to report that the only option for Persian food in Cairo (so we’ve heard) stands up remarkably well to homemade standards.

The downsides: This place is not too hospitable to vegetarians; the couple dishes we ordered that appeared meat-less on the menu arrived with surprise additions.  If you have nabati members of your dining crew, we suggest asking the waiter as to the meat content of the dishes, or sticking to the appetizers and bread (both of which were delicious).  We had one very overzealous waiter, who was more doofus-esque than anything, yet – perhaps due to the fact that we were the only customers in the restaurant – was still more involved in our dining experience than we would have hoped.

Note: The menu also lists a page of international fare, from curries to spaghetti bolognese, which didn’t interest us.  Egyptian dishes, such as babaganoug and a khorshet fasolia, are also sprinkled amongst the Iranian fare, but with the high caliber of the Iranian dishes, we had no need to stray elsewhere.

Addendum: If you’re in pub quiz mood, scribble this down before you head out the door, and quiz your fellow diners on their “Iran or Star Wars?” knowledge.

Price list:
Mirza Qasemmi – 15 le
Kashk Bademjan – 15 le
Aash Soup – 15 le
Khorshet Fesenjan – 45 le, with rice (35 le without rice)
Khorshet Sabzi  – 45 le, with rice

12% service is added to the bill

Shiraz is located at 84 Shehab Street, in Mohandiseen, on the stretch of Shehab between the intersection with Libnan Street and Wadi el Nil Street.  Tel: 30426 29/ 345 6958.

French Fry Schwarma

We here at al-Masri al-Yum have a well-known love for potato products in almost all of their guises, and french fries have pride of place in our list of potato-based dishes we love. For being a city with a very high rate of french fries per capita, however, Cairo is startingly bereft of outlets serving good-quality fries. Which brings us to EuroDeli.

EuroDeli is famous for at least three things: It is, along with Arabica, one of the few remaining outlets in Zamalek (and the city) that offers free wireless to its patrons; it has a decent chocolate cake, preferably a la mode; and, it serves some of the best french fries in the city. Now, their steak cut will certainly preclude them passing the lips of those who prefer their fries model-thin, and the french-fry-to-dipping-sauce ratio may be all askew (advantage french fries) and the price for an extra serving of said sauce outrageously high, but they also represent excellent value for money if one is willing to forego the extra sauce, and they do have a flavor unmatched in the annals of recent Egyptian frenchfryology.

Notes and addenda:

As with all French fries, those available at EuroDeli are a dish best served hot. As such, ordering them for delivery is best avoided.

We have heard, but cannot confirm, that Café Versailles, by the AUC Hostel, also has excellent french fries.

For those with a more internationalist perspective, MY has been regaled by correspondent TA with tales of the amazing french fry culture in Pakistan. Although she bemoans the fact that chains like One Potato Two Potato have commercialized the french fry trade and subsequently squeezed out smaller, superior producers found in places like Lahore’s Liberty Square, she still maintains that Pakistan’s french fry vendors could teach their Egyptian cousins a thing or two about the proper frying of potatoes. With that and Gamal Eddin al-Afghani in mind we call for a pan-Islamic pact of french fry friendship, so that best practices and superior frymanship reign from Parsley Island to Peshawar, Aghadir to Aceh.

Please see this old TBE post for a short discussion of Heinz ketchup in Egypt and a link to the best thing Malcolm Gladwell has ever written.

Howie Carr is a horrible person, but the story of the Bulger brothers is fascinating.

Al-Masri al-Yum readers clamoring for healthful alternatives having reached an all time high, we reached out to our correspondents to provide them with that for which they’ve been clamoring. “Members Only” Jaquette here offers a healthful (and vegan, for those keeping track) alternative to al-Masri al-Yum’s usual fare.

***

Certain things are predictable: the presence of at least one person you know in Horeyya on any given night, that party boats on the Nile will always be playing the “El-3aineb” song by Saad el-Sagheer (I shouldn’t knock, that’s how I learned my first colors in Arabic), that requests to unsubscribe from Cairoscholars will be sent to the list, and that every couple months I will suddenly lose taste for all the recipes I usually cook. The quest for new flavors usually starts with feverish internet browsing, which leads to kitchen experimentation, which most recently has lead to this gem of a recipe: Bulgur, Pumpkin and Chard Kefteh.

For all you with more savory hankerings than sweet teeth, this recipe is quick, healthy, and delicious – plus none of the ingredients require a trip to Metro, Alfa, or the like. The Cairo version is adopted from this recipe for Bulgur and Winter Squash Kefteh (thanks NYT!) and fulfills a craving for whole grains and dark leafy greens.  Those are the kinds of food cravings I fall victim to, at least.

Recipe after the jump.

Bulgur, Pumpkin and Chard Kefteh

1/2 kilo pumpkin (other winter squash are suitable too), peeled and cut in chunks – winter squash are easy enough to spot at your local vegetable seller, but I picked up a pack of pre-cut pieces at Alfa in Zamalek as I wasn’t exactly sure what I would do with an entire pumpkin…

1 bunch chard, chopped – called sal’ in Arabic, this variety of chard is entirely green, without the rosy shades of the Swiss chard I’m used to, but assuredly still delicious.  I haven’t seen chard in supermarkets here yet, but our local vegetable seller keeps his chard stashed in the back of his cart with the herbs and celery.

1/2 cup bulgur - easily found at your local mahal

1 small onion, finely minced

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin OR 1 teaspoon cumin seeds, lightly toasted and ground

1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped

3 tablespoons fresh mint, finely chopped

2 tablespoons olive oil

Salt & pepper to taste

1. Place the bulgur in a bowl, mix with 1/4 teaspoon salt and cover with hot water. Let sit for 20 to 30 minutes until the bulgur is al dente.  It will soak up more liquid from the rest of the ingredients, and become mushier over time, so especially if you don’t plan on eating the dish immediately, drain the bulgur before it’s completely tender.

2. Meanwhile, steam the squash for 15 to 20 minutes until thoroughly tender. Remove from the heat, and mash with a fork.

3. Cook the onion in a skillet over low heat for 10 to 15 minutes until soft and golden. Stir often.

4. Steam the chard for 5 to 10 minutes until mostly done, but still with a slight crunch to it.

5. Add the cumin and a pinch of salt to the onion, and stir together for about 30 seconds. Stir into the bulgur. Add the pureed squash and chard and stir together.

6. Mix in the parsley, the mint, and salt and pepper to taste. Serve as is, or heat in the oven just before serving.

7. Enjoy!