Thank you for all the wonderful emails and congratulatory comments on my Fulbright post. I have a feeling this is going to be an incredible culinary journey that I hope we can take together — you and me, traveling through Syria. It’s going to be awesome. Just be sure to bring a hearty appetite (and definitely a pair of loose-fitted pants).

A few readers asked whether I will keep this blog or start a new one. My plan is to continue blogging here and tag my upcoming posts with a Fulbright tag for easy reference. Before I go abroad, however, since I can’t cook a huge dinner to thank everyone for their amazing support, although this is what my grandmother would insist on, I decided to give away my mamoul mold instead; my small way of saying thank you. This is the same mold I used for these mini mamoul cookies a while back.

To enter in the drawing, simply leave a comment about your latest, favorite recipe. This is the theme of today’s post. On September 15, before I fly to Syria, I will randomly select one commenter from this post and ship the mold to them, anywhere around the world.

traditional mamoul mold giveaway

Even though I should probably be packing right now, I would feel terrible if I didn’t tell you about this delicious granola I’ve been making. I’ve tweeted about it a few times, and last night I made my third batch in less than a week. It’s so good, it makes me happy just writing about it.

I got this idea from Molly (via Twitter) after I posted a tweet about how much I love snacking on dates and almonds. She suggested I make a date and almond granola. I thought it was brilliant, so here I am, ready to pass on this gem of a recipe.

mise en place

The original recipe comes from Epicurious, but I added my own Middle Eastern spin to it. I replaced the cashews with Aleppo pistachios (فستق حلبي) that I have in my freezer from a previous trip to Syria, and added a splash of orange blossom water to the mix. For my friends who are fasting during Ramadan right now, I think this would be a great recipe to prepare ahead of time for Suhoor (سحور). Suhoor is the meal that is consumed by Muslims at dawn, before fasting in daylight hours during the month of Ramadan. It is traditional to start Suhoor by eating dates as they are incredibly rich sources of energy and vitamins that help keep the body nourished throughout the day.

dates + almonds

Chopping the dates and almonds is the only prep work necessary to make this granola. The rest is mixing ingredients together and baking them in the oven. This is part the recipe’s appeal.

dry ingredients

The dates get added later, half-way into the baking process.

honey, butter, orange blossom water

ready to bake

date and almond granola

Although the granola is good on its own, my favorite way to enjoy it is sprinkled over a bowl of vanilla yogurt. The combination is heavenly. Enjoy!

best with yogurt

Today I want to share with you the beginning of a new stage in my life.

It started last year when I decided to apply for a Fulbright research scholarship. My proposal: to conduct an anthropological study of Syrian cuisine; specifically, lunch. My perspective is slightly biased since both sides of my family are originally Syrian, but I believe Syrian food is among the best in the region. This is particularly true in Aleppo — Syria’s second largest city and headquarters for the Syrian Academy of Gastronomy.

The title of my proposal was “Between Us, Bread and Salt.” This is a literal translation of an old Arabic proverb, بيناتنا خبز و ملح (baynaatna khobz w milah). I like what this proverb stands for and thought it made sense in the context of my research. Food brings people together. I chose to focus on lunch because it’s usually the biggest and most important meal of the day in Syria and most Mediterranean countries. Lunch is when friends and family get together to eat, laugh, and share everyday stories. I proposed to study lunch from three different perspectives: restaurant meals, home cooked meals, and street foods.

Now, fast forward about ten months. Ten very long months. In my mailbox one afternoon, I found a yellow, letter-sized envelope from the Institute of International Education. I knew what was inside. I immediately grabbed the phone to call my grandmother. I knew that regardless of the outcome, my sito would know the right things to say; she always does. I called her house and let her know I had the envelope in my hands. I was both nervous and eager; this was the moment I had been waiting for. I carefully ripped the corner of the envelope and slid my index finger along the seal, making sure not to tear the letter. That’s when I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I remember hearing my grandmother whisper a short prayer under her breath. I pinched the paper, and slowly pulled it out from the envelope. With my eyes barely open, I squinted and caught a glimpse of the phrase, “I am pleased to congratulate you.”

Fulbright Letter of Acceptance

Even as I write this post today, it hasn’t sunken in yet. In a little over four weeks I need to be packed and ready to move to Syria for nine months to study food. I will be working with renowned Syrian food expert, Samir Tahhan (no relation) as well as members from the Syrian Academy of Gastronomy. I’m humbled. I owe a huge part of this amazing feeling to you, all the readers, who have encouraged me to continue blogging and pursue my dreams. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I will try and write a couple more posts with more details before I start my Fulbright, but for now, I need to tell you about this pretty fantastic kabab recipe before summer slips away. It’s an Aleppan specialty. It’s called kabab banjan, or eggplant kababs.

mise en place

I love recipes like this because they cannot get any simpler. Only three main ingredients. Before summer is over please promise me you’ll try this recipe, only because I promise you will fall in love with it (if you like eggplants, that is).

thick slices

You’ll want thick slices of eggplant because of all the water they’ll lose. This will help the eggplant maintain their shape.

season your meat

fire up your grill

beautiful char

This is precisely the reason you want to be doing this outside, over an open flame. You just can’t develop a crust like this on a skillet. You can get a sear, sure, but the best flavor comes from the scorching flames directly underneath the kababs. That’s how the magic happens. You’ll start to hear a soft crackling sound while fat from the meat melts into the fire — that’s a good thing. The juices from the meat will also start to seep into the eggplants and your entire grilling area will start to smell like a huge plate of baba ganoush. It’s a wonderful experience.

the secret

Aha! The secret. This dish, like most good dishes, comes with a secret. The original idea to make this dish came from a reader who wrote me an email asking why her recipe for kabab banjan does not have a pronounced eggplant flavor. I consulted with my grandmother, of course, and wrote back. After you’ve developed a good crust on the eggplant and meat skewers, you want to place the kababs in an oven-safe receptacle, pour a thin layer of water, cover with aluminum foil, and bake at 350 degrees for 20-30 minutes. This gives time for the eggplant to finish cooking all the way through, and at the same time allows the meat to soak up more of the roasted eggplant flavor. This is also the perfect time to prepare a side of rice and set the table.

kabab banjan (كباب بنجان)

Enjoy what’s left of the summer — صحة و هنا (saha w hana) bon appetit!

I want to dedicate this post to everyone who helped and guided me throughout the Fulbright application process. I could not have received this prestigious award without your generous support. Thank you:
Dr. Stefan Senders, Fulbright advisor, for your inspiration and for being a wonderful mentor. Mrs. Elizabeth Edmondson, coordinator of the Fulbright program at Cornell University, for your support, kindness, and delicious recipe for Jamaican Cock Soup. Dr. Jane Fajans, for exposing me to the field of food anthropology and advising me on my research. Dean Maria Davidis, for always encouraging me as an undergraduate and being there to talk food. Dr. June Nasrallah, faculty advisor for the Lebanese Club at Cornell, for supporting my culinary endeavors. Dr. Feryal Hijazi, professor of Arabic at Harvard University, for helping me improve my Arabic. I want to thank the Syrian Academy of Gastronomy for setting me up with a terrific mentor, Mr. Samir Tahhan, and offering me the resources to explore the best of Syrian cuisine. I also want to thank everyone at the Institute of International Education for making the Fulbright possible.
Thank you!

Vegas is all about one thing: over the top, elaborate, in-your-face, decadence. On my trip to Vegas last week I noticed that was a recurring theme. Gelato at 11 o’clock at night. Extravagant shows put on by Cirque du Soleil. The world’s largest chocolate fountain. Vegas is decadent. Sure, some people perceive its decadence in other more “lewd” ways, but I was there to experience the amazing food. I also learned how to play Craps along the way, but that’s a different blog post.

I uploaded more photos from my Vegas trip to Flickr.

Wynn Hotel

Beignets Filled with Oozing Chocolate

Restaurant: The Country Club

SW Steak House

Restaurant: SW SteakHouse

Kobe Beef Carpaccio

Restaurant: The Country Club

Duck Coated in a Fig-BBQ Sauce Served on Brioche Bun

Restaurant: The Country Club

Lots of love at Jean Philippe Patisserie

Restaurant: Jean Philippe Pattisserie

Out of all the dishes I had that week, my absolute favorite, which was not an easy decision to arrive at (as you could see), featured house-made elk sausage. It was the only dish I ordered twice that week. I don’t usually order a dish twice, but I had to make an exception. It was that good. The sausage, you see, was served on a bed of a marble potato hash cooked with pancetta and a mix of sweet peppers and onions. And gracefully balanced atop of the elk sausage rested a perfectly poached egg. It was perfect — no undercooked egg white and a barely warm yolk, still very runny of course. In order to qualify for Las Vegas decadence status, however, you need that extra something. That extra something, in this case, was the beautifully prepared, buttery choron sauce. If you’ve never had choron sauce, just think béarnaise with a bit of tomato purée. Instead of the puree, however, the chef incorporated a fine dice of sun dried tomatoes to achieve a similar flavor with added texture.

Elk Sausage Served with Poached Eggs and Choron Sauce

Restaurant: Tableau

Me and Chef Timothy Henderson at Tableau

Photo Credit: M. Scott Smith

Today, I decided to pay tribute to Las Vegas with an equally decadent blog post. I didn’t have to look too far since I have plenty of decadent brioche left over from my previous post. You can’t tell from the photos, but I had made 2 batches of brioche, which left me with 4 total loaves, and 6 sticks of butter less in the fridge. But that’s not enough. In order to come close to Vegas-level decadence, I needed something more. I needed that charon sauce — something to take this already rich bread to new levels of decadence. Chocolate was the answer (as it almost always is).

mise en place

With some spotty bananas sitting on my counter, I decided to turn some of my left over brioche into mini chocolate-banana panini.

banana-chocolate

wait, wait… some extra chocolate

panini press

chocolate-banana brioche panini

oozing chocolate, creamy banana, buttery brioche — decadence accomplished

Today I’m going to blog about brioche. It’s been long overdue, let me explain why.

It all started a few weeks ago when I received an email from the Culinary Institute of America. The Culinary Institute of America. I had to read the message a few times so the words could sink in. Dean Sciacca, a dean at the culinary school and reader of my blog, was inviting me to give a talk on storytelling and culinary tradition at their Hyde Park campus in New York. I had never done any public speaking before; not outside of school at least. I was excited, nervous, curious, honored — all at the same time. I wrote back with the most enthusiastic yes I could possibly muster in an email, all while keeping my cool (I think).

It was my first time riding Amtrak. The entire experience was pleasant: no need to show up hours early or stand through long lines, and the seats weren’t bad either — very comfortable. The sky was overcast with large billowy clouds stretching across the horizon. Next to me on the train was an equally charming American expat. She had moved to New Zealand and was back to hike along the Appalachian Trail and visit family in Virginia. She was starting to develop a Kiwi accent, which I thought was really neat. We talked a little about life, traveling, food (of course), but mostly, we stared out our window at the Hudson. The train ride went by quickly that way. As soon as the train neared Poughkeepsie, the clouds, almost as if they were greeting us to our final destination, moved aside to reveal a beautiful summer day.

Dean Sciacca met me at the Poughkeepsie train station where we met in person for the first time. I remember thinking she is just as cool in person as she had been in her emails. And I’m not just saying that because she’s probably going to be reading this — she really is that cool. We clicked instantly. Two people passionate about food and technology. One of our first conversations was about how much we love our iPhones. At that point I knew I was in good hands.

The short ride from the Poughkeepsie train station to Hyde Park reminded me a lot of Ithaca, NY, where I went to school; it’s a very quaint and agricultural area. I dropped off my bags at the hotel and we made our way to The Culinary — that’s how they refer to it there.

bright, sunny day at The Culinary

When we arrived at The Culinary, Dean Sciacca introduced me to Jason, a senior culinary student and bread enthusiast, who gave me a quick tour of the campus before dinner. I should state now, for the record, that I don’t think any college campus offers better food to its students. The system is brilliant. Since so much food is prepared in the production kitchens each night, students only swipe their campus ID cards to gain access to any of the themed production kitchens. Dean Sciacca arranged for us to have dinner at Chef Eisenhauer’s Mediterranean production kitchen that evening.

Chef Eisenhauer’s Mediterranean Kitchen

As we entered the kitchen the expediter asked me which of the four Italian dishes I was having that evening. I remember all the entrees sounded delicious, but I went with the chef’s recommendation, gnocchi served with a velvety duck ragu and toasted pancetta bits. My order was shouted across the kitchen and the line continued.

Dean Sciacca and I split up for dinner and I joined a group of culinary students to fill me in on what student life was like at The Culinary. The dining hall we entered was not like the ones I remembered back at school. This looked like it came right out of a scene from Harry Potter. I wish I had taken a picture of it. It was majestic with an elaborate cathedral ceiling, stained glass windows and regal architecture. We grabbed our beverages and took a seat at the back of the dining hall, with a view overlooking all the students enjoying their meal.

gnocchi with duck ragu and crispy pancetta

Each bite of the gnocchi was like biting into one of those billowy clouds from earlier that afternoon. In fact, I’m convinced that’s where they ended up, on my plate. The gnocchi was light and airy, and floated gracefully in the duck ragu, which was not overly heavy like a traditional ragu, but had a rich silky texture to it. Then there was the pancetta. Oh, the pancetta — crispy pieces of pork goodness sprinkled over the gnocchi. It was perfect. Slightly salty and a nice crispy contrast to offset the soft cloud-like potato gnocchi.

I posted some more photos from the rest of my trip on flickr. But, I have to tell you about the brioche. This brioche is excellent.

The inspiration to blog about brioche came from Jason, the bread aficionado who had shown me around campus. I have never heard anyone talk about bread more passionately than him. He liked talking about food, but bread was his passion. At one point I remember asking him what his favorite bread was, and without the blink of an eye, or a hint of hesitation, he said, brioche. That’s how I knew what my next blog post had to be on.

mise en place

Until last week, I had never made brioche at home. I’ll admit that the thought of baking bread, particularly something like brioche, was pretty intimidating. That was something I left for the experts, like Jason. The most elaborate bread I had made up to this point was Jim Lahey’s no-knead bread, and maybe Focaccia, if you consider that elaborate.

Brioche, for those who have never had it, is an enriched bread made with flour, butter (lots, and lots of butter), eggs, yeast, and a bit of milk. How much butter you add to your brioche distinguishes it between a poor man’s brioche and rich man’s brioche. I decided to follow one of Jason’s friend’s motto for this one: “mo’ butta’ mo’ betta’.”

make sure your yeast is alive n’ kicking

If I’ve learned one thing from baking bread is that you always, always, want to check to make sure your yeast is alive and kicking. 10 minutes in the beginning can save you a lot of pain and heart ache. Flat, dense brioche is no good. Check your yeast.

add butter piece by piece

This is the scary part. The butter. If you’re squeamish about this sort of stuff, cover your eyes and scroll down to the next post. Brioche isn’t the healthiest thing in the world, but the problem is that it’s so incredibly and utterly delicious. Another thing I’ve learned over the years is that the French know what they’re talking about when it comes to cuisine, but particularly bread. Bread is their thing. They are to bread what Shakespeare is to literature; masters, that is. Three sticks of butter and four eggs. That’s what it takes.

egg wash

After you saturate the dough with good quality butter and give the gluten a workout, you’ll want to refrigerate the dough for at least 6 hours or better yet, overnight. This is probably a good time to do a few sit ups or pushups, if that will help you sleep better at night. I just use it as an excuse to eat extra bread the next day.

78g

light coat of egg wash

brioche loaf

brioche with basil-infused peach jam

*My friend Lecy Mayes made the basil-infused peach jam for me as a gift — the flavor combination is spectacular!

Special thanks to Dean Sciacca for hosting me at the Culinary Institute. Chef Eisenhauer for the delicious dinner that came out of her Mediterranean production kitchen. Laura Pickover for attending my talk and sharing her awesome blog. Jason (the bread expert) for giving me a tour around campus and inspiring me to make brioche at home (my new favorite bread). Diana and Stephen for having dinner with me the first day. Chris and Phil for giving me a second tour around campus and showing me around the Hyde Park. And finally, all the faculty, staff, and students at the Culinary Institute of America who hosted me and made this culinary adventure of a lifetime possible. Thank you!

This is how quickly May flew by:

Boston Lights

One of the exciting things I did last month was go hiking. It was my first time (ever), so my excitement was also met with equal part anxiety. My friend and I drove out to Shenandoah despite the scattered thunderstorm warnings and started hiking around 4pm. By sunset we were hours away from the trail head with nothing but our camera gear, granola, flashlights, a snake kit and a can of bear spray. By the time I realized how deep we were in the woods, I was pretty sure we were going to be eaten by a family of hungry bears. I should also state, for the record, that my friend wasn’t as worried. He’s an experienced hiker from Colorado who got a kick out of hearing me shriek every time I heard a branch fall in the distance or spotted deer eyes staring at us from deep inside the forest. It was creepy, but I had a great time — particularly since we didn’t die.

poor bunny probably thought I was going to eat it

In the spirit of summer and quick snacks that don’t require turning on a hot oven, I decided to blog about the Middle Eastern version of the ubiquitous peanut butter and jelly sandwich. If you are a fan of the pb&j, you must try this version made with tahini (طحينة) and grape molasses (دبس عنب). It’s fantastic. Same concept, sweet and savory, but the flavors are more intense and delicious!

mise en place

grape molasses

Regular molasses is a sweet syrup that’s a byproduct from processing sugar cane into sugar. That’s not the molasses you want to use for this dish. In the Middle East they make different flavored molasses made from carob (خرنوب), grapes (عنب), pomegranates (رمان) and dates (تمر). Some people use carob molasses for this dish, but I find that it has a bit of a bitter taste to it. In Iraq they make this dish with date molasses. My preference is grape molasses, which is sweet and has just the right amount of tartness without being too sour.

Food Art: Tahini and Molasses (دبس و طحينة)

If you want to be fancy, you can drizzle a nice pattern over the tahini with the grape molasses. Guests can then use their a piece of pita bread to mix the tahini and molasses together before eating.

swish, swoosh, eat!

Saha w Hana (صحة و هنا) — bon appetit!