“This is not considered a special-occasion cake, but everyone loves it. It’s an everyday cake to serve with tea.”—Nawida
Flavored with freshly ground cardamom and a little rose water, this cake is made with both all-purpose flour and corn flour (which is milled more finely than cornmeal). It has an ideal ratio of cake, topping, and just a little crunch, which you get from the coarse yellow semolina flour, or sooji in Hindi, that’s dusted on the bottom of the pan before you add the batter. The result is both familiar and exciting—it’s like the best and most interesting corn muffin ever. It’s also the perfect complement to any kind of tea. Nawida usually tops one side of the cake with mild white poppy seeds and nigella seeds, which have just a touch of bitterness, and the other side with black raisins and large pieces of walnut. You can choose just one topping, but both together on one plate make this very easy dessert so much more appealing—and this approach allows everyone to try both. Ideally this should be baked in a rectangular metal pan about 9 by 13 inches (23 by 33 cm) so that you can easily cut the cake into diamond shapes. I use a square metal brownie pan, so the pieces come out a little thicker, but in a pinch you could also use two round cake pans or even muffin tins. Nawida sometimes uses muffin tins shaped like hearts and stars so that it’s easy and fun for her kids to take a piece of cake to school. Just pay attention as it bakes, as the bake time will vary slightly with a different shape of pan. As with the firni on page 299, though you can buy cardamom pre-ground, for this dish I strongly recommend you grind it yourself. It doesn’t take very long!
I created this bread in Israel with Henrietta Lovell, my love. We were invited to do an event that turned out to be a true collaboration, with a lovely man and great chef, Ezra Kedem, in his studio/restaurant, called Arcadia, close to Jerusalem. We paired Ezra’s food with my bread and Henrietta’s iced oolong tea, blended with fresh garden herbs. (If you know anything about Henrietta, you’ll know she is the drinks master, with the most amazing palate. They call her the Tea Lady, but her love and skill extend way beyond tea.)
Arcadia is set on a rural farm, on a beautiful mountainside with spectacular views. The day before the event, I walked around the kitchen garden, totally inspired by what they were growing. I thought that making a rye bread with Ezra’s seasonal farm ingredients was the way to bring our worlds together.
He had a few fig trees on the property, and I wondered what it would be like to line the bread pans with the leaves. It looked amazing and added a great flavor, almost a coconut scent. To make it even more figgy, I’ve added dried figs to this recipe, soaked in tea as a tribute to that day.
I think of salads in two distinct camps: 1) the classic tossed salad, where everything is added to a deep bowl and moved around to evenly distribute, and 2) flat salads built in layers on a shallow platter. The latter is best when you have delicate greens (like butter lettuce) that won’t take well to tossing. Building in layers also means that the construction of the servings will be roughly the same if you are the first person to be served or the last—no more lettuce-only bites for the last in line.
I think I prefer this English version of pesto even to the classic Italian basil one. It’s lighter and more versatile. It’s good with pasta, on pizza, or just as flavoring for salad dressing, or indeed to serve with grilled chicken or lamb chops. Just about anything really!
Frangipane is something I have always enjoyed: the intense almond flavour and very delicate texture is simply delicious. In this recipe I have added another texture, encasing the frangipane with crispy filo pastry, while a nutty base gives it a lovely crunch.
This is an indulgently rich balm to soothe body and soul in the bitter cold. The pear and walnut are by no means essential, in fact a plate of tagliatelle drenched in just the creamy, peppery cheese sauce is pure joy. However, the chunks of fruit add a delicate sweetness that cuts through the intense richness of the sauce and it’s little extra effort to throw them in.
Makes one 9-inch (23 cm) tart or shallow pie
Chicken salad may seem retro, but this one is positively medieval. It’s a timely resurrection of a much-loved dish, described as the perfect summertime fare by Ibrahim ibn al-Mahdi (poet, musician and cook) who devised this barida dish in the ninth century. The idea behind bawarid – cold dishes – is a mixture of meat or vegetables, brought together by a sauce. Timeless. Much like the sandwich… Many believe the sandwich to have been invented in 18th-century England by Lord Sandwich, however, medieval records turn back the clock. At ancient Persian banquets, you’d be served a sort of canapé called bazmaward or awsat, which was essentially thin flatbread (but not always) filled with roast meat, such as the following baridas, rolled up and sliced into pin-wheels. Today, we call these aarayes in parts of the Middle East. Bazmaward make for wonderful snacks or finger food to decorate the table with.
This recipe is an ancient Persian take on the spinach salad from masterful writer Joan Nathan. Spinach is quickly blanched in boiling water, then pulsed in a food processor with cilantro, walnuts and garlic until roughly chopped. Toss with vinegar, salt and pepper and serve at room temperature alongside a chunk of whole grain bread and good butter and you have a delicious spring dinner.
People serve many kinds of cookies and candies to guests on Chinese New Year. Walnut cookies are often included.