Tony is all about food. His ongoing food events and special projects have been featured in the press. To learn more, you can view his gallery, read his blog, or simply contact him directly.

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The Syrian Hospitality Waltz

Note: I wrote this post for the IIE Fulbright Blog about my Fulbright experience in Syria.

Lost, I strolled up to a middle-aged gentleman standing a few feet beside me who was leisurely munching on a bag of peanuts. I cleared my throat as I approached him. “Marhaba,” “hello,” I said in my peculiar Arabic accent. As the man turned to me, I asked if he could point me in the direction of the market.

There was no rush because there was never really a need to rush; everything in Aleppo happens in its own time. The man offered me some of his peanuts. I declined politely as he extended the snack-sized bag. I made sure to say “shokran,” “thank you,” so as to not offend, but he insisted. Having already lived here for a few months, I understood this was part of the intricate, Syrian hospitality waltz. It’s a well-established, figurative dance based on a set of unspoken rules. If you watch it take place between two locals, it can be quite beautiful — I was still learning. I explained how I had just eaten lunch and was absolutely stuffed. I followed with a comment about how delicious my meal had been, and he smiled and instructed me to follow him.

We exchanged stories as we walked down the busy street. I mentioned that I was a Fulbright student studying food in Aleppo; he chuckled and assured me I had come to the right place. In fact, most Arabs and food scholars consider Aleppo to be the culinary capital of the Middle East. Historically situated along the Silk Road, Aleppo has served as the home for a myriad of cultures — Armenian, Circassian, Greek, Jewish, Kurdish, and Turkish. They have all played a role in shaping what Aleppan food is today.

The conversation with the older gentleman went smoothly, as if I were chatting with an old friend. Once he knew I was there to study lunch, he began to tell me of all the dishes I needed to taste. As we passed prominent landmarks, he interjected to explain how I could find my way in case I ever got lost again. He insisted on walking with me until he felt confident I could find the market. As we arrived to the point where we were to part ways, he extended his bag of peanuts another time. I couldn’t say no, not after all this, that would be considered, “Aaeeb,” or “shameful.”

I politely grabbed a couple peanuts from the small bag and tossed them in my mouth. They were dry-roasted and salted, and actually very tasty. I thanked him again, “shokran,” and repeated it a couple more times. He responded by extending his open hand across his chest, over his heart, saying, “ya meet ahlan w sahlan,” which roughly translates into “oh, you are most welcome, a hundred times over.

In Syria and across much of the Middle East, symbolic gestures, however small, can have significant social implications. These gestures are equivalent to the imperceptible signals exchanged between two dance partners on a dance floor. Placing your hand over your heart is understood to be a gesture of openness and sincerity. Numbers also play an important role in social exchange. Many Arabic phrases can be reinforced by a quantitative amount. For instance, if you want to congratulate someone, you can say “mabrook.” But for emphasis, you would say, “alf mabrook,” which literally means, “a thousand congratulations.” Even ordinary exchanges can sometimes trigger the waltz. The expression for “good morning,” is “sabah al kher,” literally “morning of goodness.” A standard response would be, “sabah al noor,” or, “morning of light” but you might also hear, “ya meet sabah,” which translates into, “one hundred beautiful mornings.”

During my stay in Syria I met many people like the middle-aged man who were interested in getting to know me, and vice versa. Conversations that started about eggplants and parsley unraveled into stories of love and companionship, culture and politics.

These exchanges, however imperceptible, are indicators of a larger dance meant to teach us about one another. They are ways in which we can participate in each other’s cultures and form relationships based on mutual understanding. I consider these interactions to be the highlights of my Fulbright in Syria. These are the interactions I carry in my heart and continue to share on my blog in an effort to continue the waltz I started almost one year and one month ago.

Assorted photos from my Fulbright:

hospitality begins with coffee or tea
hospitality
you can’t tell, but we were stuffed from a huge barbecue/feastfriends
Abu Jack — the sandwich king
basterma
pomegranate farmer
pomegranates
our desert hosts
desert hosts
desert garb
desert garb
desert hospitality
desert tea
always offering guests
pomegranate offer
friendships that will last forever
with friends at park

Note: For more photos from my Fulbright in Syira, please visit my Flickr account.

Seasonal Pumpkin Kibbeh

I’m in Miami visiting my family — we’re getting ready to go on a cruise, literally in a couple of hours, but first, I need to tell you about this delicious Pumpkin Kibbeh. It would be incredibly cruel if I kept this recipe to myself any longer. It’s amazing, and I don’t take that claim lightly.

mise en placemise_en_place

I actually packed some of the kibbeh I made for this blog post into my carry-on. I felt like my grandmother, who is incapable of visiting anyone without packing a feast into her luggage. I’m not exaggerating: she will show up with more food than clothes sometimes. She also refuses to rest; as soon as she settles in, she will find her way into the kitchen and begin to work her magic. I get my passion for cooking from her. I wrapped pieces of my Pumpkin Kibbeh in aluminum foil and bundled each parcel inside two plastic bags. I used my clothes for padding and made my way to the airport. This kibbeh merits a blog post.

pumpkinroasting pumpkin

Kibbeh is a classic Levantine dish that can be prepared several ways. The traditional kibbeh is prepared with extremely lean ground lamb kneaded with bulgur wheat (cracked wheat) until a dough is formed. The dough is stuffed with a fragrant filling of pine nuts and minced lamb seasoned with allspice, salt, pepper, and a tiny pinch of cinnamon. This is only one kind of kibbeh.

roasted vegetablesroasted vegetables

Legend has it that you can find 100 different kinds of kibbeh in Aleppo. That is why this ancient city in northern Syria is known as “the home of stuffed vegetables and kibab” (plural of kibbeh) — حلب أم المحاشي و الكبب. I’ve written a few blog posts on stuffed vegetables — swiss chard, eggplant, and grape leaves. Today, I want to focus on kibbeh, specifically the pumpkin kibbeh that I discovered at the beginning of my Fulbright. I arrived to Aleppo in early autumn of 2010. The blazing heat still carried over from the hot summer days, but nighttime brought with it a crisp, autumn breeze that swooped through the entire city. It was a beautiful time to be in Syria.

the dough: simple and colorfuldough ingredients

At that time I was living with my host mom, Tant Kiki, who prepared simple, but delicious meals. When she prepared this pumpkin kibbeh I am ashamed to say that I was not enthusiastic about eating it for lunch. When I asked what we were having, she said they were leftovers. Little did I know she had the powers to turn scrap vegetables into gold. You will never catch Tant Kiki letting any food go to waste; she gathered her unused vegetables and made this delicious kibbeh out of them. I ate my words. I thought it was the most delicious thing I had ever had.

beautiful colorthe dough

I made my kibbeh with eleven vegetables (I didn’t end up using the parsley). The beauty of this dish is that you can make it with almost any vegetables you can think of. Whatever you have in your fridge will work, just like Tant Kiki makes it. This is also a great way to use any leftover pumpkin from Halloween or Thanksgiving. I hope you enjoy this recipe as much as I did — I will see you when I get back from my cruise! Bon appetit and Happy (early) Halloween!

the bottom layerbaking dish
forming the kibbehforming kibbeh
butter, the finishing touchbutter on top
pumpkin kibbehpumpkin_kibbeh1
classic diamond shapekibbeh top

Pumpkin Kibbeh

yields 2 trays

Components

  • 3 cups fine ground bulgur wheat (#1)
  • 3 cups fine semolina
  • 2 1/2 cups pumpkin puree
  • 2 red bell peppers, one diced, one chopped
  • 1 medium yellow onion
  • 2 large leeks
  • 1 green pepper, diced
  • 1 small pumpkin, peeled and diced
  • 4-5 carrots, peeled and grated
  • 1 lb crimini mushrooms
  • 1/2 head of cabbage, finely shredded
  • 1 eggplant, diced
  • 2 zucchini, diced
  • 4 cloves of garlic, minced
  • extra virgin olive oil
  • 1/4 cup pomegranate molasses
  • 1 stick of butter
  • Pine nuts, garnish
  • salt, to taste

Putting them all together

  1. Rinse and dry all the vegetables. Slice, dice, or grate the vegetables depending on the instructions on the ingredient list.
  2. Toss the peeled and diced pumpkin with olive oil and season with salt and pepper.
  3. Begin by roasting the pumpkin in a 400 degree F oven because it takes the longest. Roast for 30-40 minutes or until a knife easily pierces the flesh. Set aside.
  4. Toss the eggplant, zucchini, carrots, and the minced garlic together with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Roast for 30 minutes in 400 degree F oven or until a knife easily pierces the flesh of the eggplant.
  5. In a large skillet, sauté the leeks, mushrooms, cabbage, green pepper, and the diced red pepper in olive oil over medium high heat until leeks and cabbage are soft, approximately 20-25 minutes.
  6. Deglaze the pan with some water, reduce heat to medium low, and add mix in the pomegranate molasses. Cook until the water evaporates and the sauce develops a syrup consistency.
  7. Set all the cooked vegetables aside and allow to cool to room temperature. You can also refrigerate them at this point and continue preparing the kibbeh tomorrow.
  8. Blend the chopped red pepper and onion in a food processor or blender until completely liquid. Combine the semolina, bulgur wheat, pumpkin purée, and liquified pepper and onion and knead until a dough is formed. You may need to add a couple tablespoons of water if the dough is still dry to the touch.
  9. Grease a large baking dish with butter.
  10. Flatten golf size pieces of dough on the bottom of the baking dish (1/4″) until the entire bottom is covered.
  11. Scatter the cooled vegetables over the bottom layer of dough.
  12. Repeat the process of flattening golf size balls of dough to cover the vegetables and create a top layer for the kibbeh. Don’t worry if there are seams.
  13. Once the top layer is covered, dip your hands in water and run your hand across the top of the kibbeh to flatten out any imperfections.
  14. Slice the kibbeh in the design that you prefer. Add a pine nut to the center of each piece for garnish.
  15. Melt the butter and seal the top of the kibbeh with a thin layer of butter. I used about a third to a half of stick per baking dish.
  16. At this point you can either freeze the baking dish or bake it immediately in a 400 degree oven for 20-30 minutes or until the top is golden brown.

Notes: If you don’t have pomegranate molasses you can season the vegetables with soy sauce to develop a deep flavor (it is not the same, but it is a nice variation). The filling for this dish is also versatile; feel free to use completely different vegetables for your kibbeh. Some people make the same pumpkin kibbeh dough, but fill it with the classic meat, onion, and pine nuts.

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pumpkin kibbehpumpkin_kibbeh1

World Peace, a step in the right direction

It is difficult to write about my experiences in Syria knowing that the country is on the brink of civil war and chaos. It breaks my heart. I also realize that not writing anything won’t necessarily make things better, either. And giving up on my blog — the thing that used to bring me so much happiness — is the last thing I want to do.

mise en placemise_en_place

I want to keep today’s post short with the promise that I’ll be back again soon. I won’t disappear like I did before, you have my word. Thank you to all those who nudged me (physically and electronically) and encouraged me to continue writing. It may have taken me a while, but I’m here.

creaming processmixing

Today’s recipe is not one that I learned on my Fulbright in Syria, although I still have plenty of those to share with you, too. This is a recipe that I’ve come across many times on some of my favorite food blogs: World Peace Cookies. It even made it to Saveur’s list, Recipes that Rocked the Internet. Given all that is going on, I thought this was the perfect time to try such an alluring cookie.

sift for clumpssifting

Pastry Chef Pierre Hermé originally developed these cookies for a restaurant in Paris, and Dorie Greenspan introduced them to the world in her book, Paris Sweets . The original name for the cookies was Sables Korova, or Korova Cookies, named after the restaurant off Champs Élysées that Pierre Hermé created the recipe for. It was not until Dorie’s neighbor tasted these these ultra decadent, chocolate-intense cookies that the name changed to what we know today. Dorie’s neighbor was convinced that a daily dose of these is all that is needed to ensure planetary peace and happiness; thus the new name was born.

chocolate: the ‘peace’ in ‘world peace’adding_chocolate

I used Dorie’s recipe, except I took the liberty to add a pinch of orange zest to the dough; the combination of orange and chocolate makes my heart swoon. You could always leave that addition out if you’d like. The point is, these cookies are amazing any way you prepare them. They are crumbly and chocolatey and even if they don’t bring world peace immediately, I’m fully convinced, as was Dorie’s neighbor, that they are a step in the right direction.

refrigerate dough (in logs)logs
cookie doughcookie_dough
freshly bakedsheet_tray
World Peace Cookiesworld_peace_cookies1
cold milk: enabler of world peace world_peace_cookies2

World Peace Cookies

yields approx 36 cookies

Components

  • 1 1/4 cups (175 grams) all-purpose flour
  • 1/3 cup (30 grams) unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 stick plus 3 tablespoons (11 tablespoons or 150 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature
  • 2/3 cup (120 grams) (packed) light brown sugar
  • 1/4 cup (50 grams) sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon fleur de sel or 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 5 ounces (150 grams) bittersweet chocolate, chopped into chips
  • zest of half an orange*(not in original recipe)

Putting them all together

  1. Mix together the butter and sugars in a stand mixer on medium speed until the mixture becomes pale and creamy. You can also use a hand mixer. Add the salt, vanilla extract, and orange zest and mix for a couple more minutes.
  2. Sift the flour, cocoa powder, and baking soda and add to the butter and sugar mixture. Pulse a few times at a low speed to incorporate the flour and prevent it from spilling. Add the chocolate chunks and mix on low speed for 30 seconds, or until the flour is fully incorporated. Do not overwork the dough; the dough should still look and feel crumbly. Divide the dough in two and form into logs approximately 1.5 inches in diameter. Roll each log in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 3 hours (you can refrigerate the dough for up to 3 days or freeze the dough for 2 months).
  3. Preheat your oven to 325 degrees F (160 degrees C). Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.
  4. With a sharp thin knife, slice the logs into disks that are 1/2 inch thick. Don’t worry if the disks crack as you cut them, just squeeze the bits back together. Arrange the sliced disks on your baking sheets, making sure to leave about an inch between each cookie.
  5. Bake the cookies for 12 minutes. Note that they will still be soft and won’t look done, but that’s how they should be. Cool the cookies on a cookie rack and serve warm or at room temperature. Make sure to store leftover cookies (if there are any) in an airtight container.

Notes: Recipe adapted from Paris Sweets by Dorie Greenspan.

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if not world peace, then happiness, for sureempty_glass

memories of Syria

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything on my blog — more than two months. I needed time to think. I needed time away from the place I had invested so many emotions into. I’m not sure if after all this thinking I know what to say, I just know I have to write what’s on my mind and in my heart.

I want to dedicate this post to the Syrian people. Not the anti-government or the pro-government camp. This post is not about taking sides or gaining political capital. Reports of what is happening in Syria are as conflicting as they are endless. I want to keep this post simple: this is about saying thank you to the Syrians who hosted me in their country with open arms. It’s about the friends I made and didn’t get to say goodbye to. It’s about the complete strangers who invited me into their homes to share a meal. It’s about remembering the Syria that is beautiful, kind, and loving. It’s about the Syria that gives endlessly without receiving.

I want to give special thanks to everyone in Aleppo, my home for seven months, and undoubtedly, Syria’s food capital. I will always keep memories of you in my heart, until forever.

لقد مرت فترة من الوقت منذ أن دونت شيئا، أكثر من شهرين.. احتجت الى الوقت لأفكر، وقتاً بعيداً
عن المكان الذي بذلت فيه الكثير من المشاعر، و لست متأكدا بعد كل هذا التفكير ماذا سأقول تحديدا، لكني اعلم أنني يجب ان أكتب ما يدور في قلبي و عقلي.
أريد أن أهدي هذه التدوينه للشعب السوري، ليس للموالاة او المعارضه -فقط الشعب- .. هذه التدوينه ليست للانحياز الى جانب ما، او نيل الرأسمال السياسي، التقارير التي تصلنا من سوريا متضاربه للغايه، لذلك أريد أن أُبقي الهدف من هذه التدوينة بسيطاً، هو القول شكرًا لجميع السوريين الذين استضافوني في بلدهم بأذرع مفتوحة، هو عن الأصدقاء الذين كسبتهم و لم يتسن لي فرصة وداعهم، هو عن الغرباء الذين دعوني الى منازلهم لمشاركتهم وجبة طعام، هو عن تذكر سوريا الجميلة، المعطائه و المحبه، عن سوريا التي أعطتني بلا حدود دون مقابل..
  أريد ان أوجه شكرًا خاصا لحلب، التي احتضتنتي لسبعة اشهر، المدينة التي بلا شك عاصمة الطعام السوري..
سأُبقي ذكرياتك في قلبي الى الأبد..
daily bread
bread
proud mom
proud mom
hide & seek
boy
campfire with friends
campfire
Aleppo at night
citadel
friends
friends
group shot
friends
hiking in Syria
hiking
heart of gold
matriarch
Syrian desert
camels
fellow photographers
photographer
farmers market
farmers market
shopping in the souk
shopping
my favorite smoothie place
smoothies
my *amazing* students
students
Syrian Jasmine (ياسمين سوري)
jasmine

Stuffed chard and a day in the souk

I love to walk around for hours deep in the labyrinth of souks that interweave the old city in Aleppo. I lose myself in the crowds, chat with vendors, drink coffee with strangers, and take in my surroundings. It’s an exhilarating feeling. The chatter, the people, the sales, the merchandise–it’s all a very lively experience.

In Aleppo there are souks, or traditional Arab markets, for almost everything: clothing, gold, jewelry, food. Stores selling almost identical merchandise will all be bundled in one section of the souk. From an economics perspective, it’s wonderful; the competition helps keep prices low. The market I most often visit, naturally, is a vegetable souk that’s a convenient 10-minute walk from my house. I’ve posted pictures on my Facebook Page.

The first time I visited, I couldn’t help but think this is what a real farmer’s market feels like. Mountains of vegetables that look like they have just been picked, bargains belted by vendors at every stand, and amazing prices. The kids in the market love showing me around — they compete for my hand and pull me towards their favorite stands.

happiness
vegetable market
swiss chard
swiss chard

The Swiss chard at the souk caught my eye; its over-sized dark green leaves are hard to miss. Aleppo is known as the mother city of stuffed vegetables and kibab. It’s a popular saying here, “حلب أم الكبب و المحاشي”. This was my inspiration for today’s post.

Kibab, plural for kibbeh, are small torpedo-shape balls, pointy on both ends, made from minced meat and fine bulgur (cracked wheat). This is a classic preparation across the Levant and anything that slightly resembles this paradigm is dubbed, kibbeh. Aleppo is famous for its endless variations: with sour cherries or quince; carrots or pumpkin; yogurt or broth; raw or cooked; fried or baked; boiled or grilled. I can go on. This is a topic that, rightfully so, deserves its own blog post. Today, however, I want to focus on the first half of the saying–that is, the stuffed vegetables.

Like kibab, Aleppans are also known for their variety of stuffed vegetables: eggplants, zucchini, peppers, grape leaves, cabbage leaves, tomatoes, potatoes; I’m sure I’m forgetting a lot. As of lately, my favorite has been the stuffed Swiss chard leaves. I had them for the first time a few months ago on a chilly winter afternoon in Aleppo. My grandmother’s sister prepared a batch one afternoon for me to try. The stuffed chard leaves looked almost like over-stuffed grape leaves, but with a more pronounced dark green color. They also seemed softer in texture, as I noticed a few inside the pot had broken down in the simmering broth.

Before we sat down to eat, my grandmother’s sister asked me to mince some garlic; it’s for the sauce, she said. She added the fragrant garlic bits into a bowl of pearly white yogurt, sprinkled a small handful of dried mint, and stirred. It looked beautiful. The specks of bright green mint stood out in the creamy yogurt. As she carried the pot of stuffed chard leaves to the table she told me this used to be my grandfather’s favorite dish. “Allah yerhamo,” she said (May he rest in peace).

I took my first bite. I remember I wasn’t very excited. In my mind, it didn’t seem like anything could compare to the flavor and texture of stuffed grape leaves. “You have to eat it with the yogurt sauce,” she proclaimed. My grandmother’s sister took the liberty of adding a few large spoonfuls to the side of my plate. She instructed me, “dip, and then give it a try.”

I took another bite, this time with the yogurt. Had I been a cartoon character, this is when fireworks would be happening in my eyes. The difference is incredible. The sauce brings the dish to life. The garlic flavor is intense, but the yogurt helps round out its sharp edges–it also helps cool the palate.

I practiced making this dish on my own, and I think I finally got it right. I got excellent reviews from a couple expert Aleppan home cooks. This is one of those dishes that takes time, but is worth every minute of rolling. Invite friends who like to cook, put on your favorite movie and enjoy.

Swiss chard from the market
Swiss chard
remove stalk
remove stalk
blanching
blanching chard

As I mentioned before, the vegetables from the souk feel like they have just been picked from the ground. Swiss chard leaves are particularly dirty and can have dirt stuck to the leaves. For this reason, I go through a thorough cleaning process. First, I fill my sink up with water and wash off as much of the dirt as I can. Next, I bring a large pot of salted water to a boil, and prepare three separate bowls, or in my case buckets, of ice water. First, I blanch the leaves in the boiling water for a few seconds, and wash them off, in procession, three times, once in each ice bath. This helps me make sure the leaves are clean and ready for rolling.

rice, meat, tomato paste, salt, allspice
meat mixture

incredible yogurt sauce
yogurt sauce
sour grape water (ماءحصرم)
sour grape water

Sour grape water is harvested in late June/early July and lasts the entire year without spoiling — it is a staple in the Aleppan kitchen. When I can’t find “mayy husrom” back home, I use lemon juice, but the flavor is not exactly the same. I found this article in Arabic on how the young sour grapes are harvested, juiced, and preserved:
I bought this bottle from the souk, but I would like to write more about the process of preparing the water later in the summer.

stuffed chard leaves
stuffed chard leaves
yabraq silq (يبرق سلق)
yabraq silq

Yabraq Silq

yields 4-6 servings

Components

  • 1 bunch Swiss chard
  • 1 lb ground beef
  • 2 cups short grain rice
  • 2 Tbsp tomato paste
  • 1 Tbsp allspice
  • 3 cups sour grape water*, (mayy husrom)
  • 3 cups plain yogurt
  • 2 Tbsp dried mint
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • salt, to taste
  • water

Putting them all together

  1. Rinse the rice under cold water 2-3 times and set aside.
  2. Wash the Swiss chard leaves well, preferably in a deep sink so that all the dirt can fall to the bottom.
  3. Remove the stem from all the Swiss chard leaves.
  4. Fill a large pot with water and bring to a rolling boil.
  5. Season the water with salt (not precise, a 2-3 teaspoons).
  6. Prepare three bowls with ice cold water.
  7. Submerge a handful of the Swiss chard leaves into the boiling water for 7-10 seconds or until barely wilted.
  8. Quickly remove from the boiling water and transfer to the first ice-water bowl. Rinse, and move to the second bowl, and finally the third. This will ensure that the leaves are clean.
  9. Strain the blanched leaves from the ice-water and set aside for rolling.
  10. In a big bowl mix together the ground beef, rice, salt, allspice, and tomato paste.
  11. To stuff the blanched chard you want to cut the leaves so they are approximately 3-4 inch long.
  12. Align 2-3 of the shortened chard leaves side-by-side so they overlap a little–you should have something that resembles a wide rectangle at this point.
  13. Form a horizontal mound of the meat mixture slightly above the base of the rectangle, but don’t go all the way to the sides.
  14. Fold in the sides in, and roll the leaf from the base so that the meat mixture is enclosed.
  15. Do this until the meat mixture is finished*.
  16. Throw any leaf scraps in the bottom of a medium-to-large pot.
  17. Arrange the stuffed Swiss chard inside the pot.
  18. Season the sour grape juice (mayy husrom)* with salt, mix, and add to the stuff Swiss chard leaves.
  19. Fill the rest of the pot with water until it completely covers the stuffed Swiss chard leaves by 1-2 fingers.
  20. Press down the stuffed leaves with an inverted heat resistant plate and add a can of beans (or anything heavy) over the top–this will keep the stuffed leaves intact while cooking and prevent them from unravelling or breaking.
  21. Bring to a boil then lower the heat to low and continue cooking for 40-50 minutes, or until the leaves are tender.
  22. Prepare the yogurt sauce by mixing the yogurt, minced garlic, dried mint, and salt together.
  23. Serve the hot stuffed Swiss chard leaves alongside the cool yogurt sauce.

Notes: Leftover chard leaves can be sauteed with olive oil, garlic, dried coriander, and salt; served with rice; and eaten as a meal. You can substitute the sour grape juice (mayy husrom) with lemon juice.

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