Heba's Meat Sauce

A little contrast to Fada's Ode to Veg...

As a child, my mother was a big believer in the power of the grill. London Broil, the occasional Filet Mignon, BBQ Chicken, Rockfish - nary a week went by during the warmer months that one of these tasty treats was not served up direct from the grill. The charred-on-the-edges piece of meat was typically delicious with a slight crunch on the outside and a delicate pinkness to the middle (I was a big fan of ‘medium rare’ as a kid) and was welcome even in my years of dedication to and worship of Chinese take-out and pizza delivery.

After I left the nest, however, I couldn’t quite get red meat to do that; mostly because I didn’t have a grill. But even when a grilling option presented itself, I still just didn’t enjoy red meat as much. A rare prime rib at Nye’s Polonaise in St. Paul, Minnesota was a nostalgic treat from my days tagging along to grown-up functions at rental halls with my grandmother and great aunt. It was juicy, savory, and the kitsch factor was fantastic - but it wasn’t what I wanted from red meat, exactly. (BTW, if you are EVER in Minnesota - you MUST go to Nye’s - best night out of polka/kareoke/vintage-style dinner/tiki-ness I’ve ever had!) In Paris, I ordered a lovely something-meaty-in-peppercorn-sauce but felt that the meal just tasted like...well, peppercorn. In fact, even the frites that came with the meal ended up tasting of peppercorn (not exactly what I was hoping for after a day spent scaling the narrow stairwell of the Sacre Coeur). In Mainz, Germany, I enjoyed the garlic-butter concoction that was served with every kind of meat - it was tasty and artery clogging just like meat should be; but couldn’t meat be better than this?

My home experiments with red meat were even worse. Beyond adding a packet of Old El Paso taco seasoning (still my taco seasoning of choice) to ground beef - I couldn’t seem to get any flavor into my steak. Kebabs, stir fry, teriyaki, glazes, marinades, sauces...the meat either stopped tasting like meat or just seemed like a waste of money - all I was doing was murdering this poor animal for a second time by drowning it in preservatives and processes.

For me, the best red meat restaurant dining experiences always involved some sort of thick, dark sauce on the meat that stuck to the steak as if it had oozed from it. Surely there was some sort of soy-teriaki-marshmallow-molasses base to these sauces? Surely there was some deep dark secret that no one was sharing with me.

Leave it to Julia Child to show me the light. Her basic red-wine reduction recipe for steak was my first attempt ever at a reduction of any kind. Just a bit of the steak juice mixed with some butter, garlic, onion (I was plum out of scallions) and red wine was all it took to get amazing flavor OUT of the steak. Instead of trying to mask the steak with some processed flavor, the red wine reduction actually brought the flavor of the steak center stage and highlighted it. I felt as if I had been saved...from a lifetime of badly prepared meat dishes.

I even got creative with the leftovers. I sliced the cold leftover steak into 1/4” thick strips and pan seared them in the very-hot left-over red wine reduction (there wasn’t much left to be honest). I also pan ‘fried’ some shrimp in olive oil, rosemary, basil and garlic and served it to myself with asparagus and goat cheese (pictured). The perfect bite (a bit of shrimp, a bit of the seared off, red wine soaked steak, and a daub of goat cheese) was possibly the best flavor combination I’ve ever cooked myself.

Now, as a rule I don’t order a lot of beef when I go to restaurants. I prefer to order things that don’t make me sleepy or too full. However, reeling from my revelation that GOOD SAUCE can make beef into something extraordinary, I tossed caution to the wind last night at a local Egyptian restaurant called Abou El-Sid. Last night I ordered the Abou El-Sid Beef Tournedo.

This was, again, well sauced beef. I seem to be on a roll. The sauce was creamy and rich, with chicken liver and green peppers used to flavor it.

I ended up almost eating my finger as I ran it around the plate trying to get every last drop of the delicious sauce to hit my every taste bud - lest I waste a single droplet.

I don’t think I’ll be eating any more beef than I used to. I think it will still be only once a month or so - for the sake of my ever-expanding mid-section and ever-thinning wallet. But now I know that when I do crave the indulgence of red meat, I can give in and not be disappointed.

Fada's Vegetable Addiction

Veggie Basics

Although I always liked vegetables, I don't think I really appreciated the variety, versatility or how delicious they could really be until I lived in France. I remember being surprised at how wonderful just a plain green salad could be with the right dressing and made sure I watched carefully when dressings were made. Of course there are all sorts of recipes for dressings but I love this simple one.

Just take a bowl and add a teaspoon of French mustard, salt, a teaspoon of wine vinegar and mix well. Then add olive oil bit by bit. Somehow adding the oil slowly means that the dressing ends up like a sauce and it's delicious. Then add your salad leaves and turn the leaves when you are ready to serve. I guarantee it's delicious! I've seen my children just wiping up the sauce with French bread to eat just like that. It does have a lot of olive oil, but what's wrong with that? It's the right kind of fat and helps the food slide down!

Easy Labor Endives

About two hours before my last child was born, I found myself sitting in a restaurant with my husband. My labours tend to be long and not really bothersome until the last half hour or so and having had three children before I knew the score. Yes, I was going to give birth but just didn't want to sit in a hospital for hours waiting for it to happen. So, we went to a restaurant just around the corner which was filled with French people lunching so no one really noticed my state. I did manage to eat a little bit of endive wrapped in ham and covered in cheese sauce, but found I wasn't really in the mood! Instead I watched the husband eat and exclaim how delicious it was. At a certain point I turned to him and said,'I really think I need to get to the hospital now.' He was a bit miffed at having to hurry his food but realised too that sometimes other things take priority! About an hour later (at 3.45) my son was born. He was my last child but I've always felt that with a fifth I could have got the timing down to a tee and arrived maybe a half hour before the birth. I let it go though. The idea of having to be pregnant and all the work involved in child rearing didn't really seem a good trade off. A few days later when I came back from the hospital guess what the first meal was that the husband cooked for me?

A pound of endives (or about six)
Slices of ham to wrap around the endive
1 oz Butter
1 oz Flour
2 pints of milk
A lot of cheese

Cook the endives in boiling water until semi cooked. Place in an oven dish and wrap the ham around them. While the endives are cooking, make the sauce. Melt the butter in a sauce pan and add the flour. Cook gently and it will thicken after a couple of minutes. Then add the milk really slowly so as to incorporate it into the butter/flour mixture. When you feel you have enough sauce for the endive, add lots of cheese. Pour the sauce over the endives and ham, add more cheese on the top and bake in a hot oven for about 20 minutes until the cheese topping is browned.

Egyptian Veggie Love

The vegetables in Egypt are so pleasing - they practically beg you to buy them! They are healthy looking, shiny and often huge. They are also really cheap! A meal that I have every week is ratatouille and here's the recipe. Don't worry though about how much of any vegetable you put in - it always works when you have enough tomatoes - all weights are approximate.

A few cloves of garlic peeled and chopped
One onion peeled and chopped
A pound of courgettes (zucchini)
A pound of aubergines
Two red peppers
Two pounds of fresh tomatoes
Fresh herbs: basil, thyme, rosemary
Salt and pepper

Fry the garlic in olive oil and then add the onion. Fry both for a few minutes until softened. Add courgettes and fry for a couple of minutes, then peppers, then aubergines, herbs and salt and pepper. Finally add the tomatoes, put a lid on the pot and leave to simmer for about 45 minutes. You don't need to add water as the vegetables create a delicious sauce. I usually make a big pot that lasts several meals. In fact, I've made myself hungry with all this talk of food so I'm going to have some now that I prepared yesterday. Fada

Flash Back to the BEGINNING of the decade

Hey there, reader(s), Heba here, live from the very crowded Cairo Airport where I prepare to return to the states to ring in the New Year (and from where I will be collaborating on the New Years Eve blog virtually with Fada who will, by then, have returned to Cairo from snowy England).

As we prepare to begin a new decade, we leave behind memories of Y2K, hanging chads, and, if we are lucky, the over-use of the term "aoli" to describe a side of mayonnaise.

But something I'll never forget - wooing my first boyfriend as a "grown-up" single gal living in the big city...and so I bring you:

Food Memory Circa 2001 - The First Meal I Ever Cooked for a Boy

I was never much of a cook, not until recently that is; it was too easy to have Chinese delivered, pick up some sushi on the way home, pop in to the Mexican restaurant around the corner, or use a mixture of morse code and flashing mirrors to order a pizza (or, you know, the phone). In 2001 that all changed, I was on the cusp of having my first real, life-as-a-grownup boyfriend who I was intent on wooing. A hipster before it was hip, a foodie before I knew such a thing existed; he was always making guacamole (with cilantro, the way I now make it), stews and chowders from frozen fish he’d stocked up on, or various meats on his bbq. I was terrified; the wooing would have to involve me cooking, there was no question about it. Future-boyfriend was looking for a future-girlfriend who knew her way around the kitchen.

The day of The Wooing, I called my mother. I had described my favorite meal (Chicken Divan) to my future-boyfriend and he had been intrigued by its homey casserole-ness. I was intrigued by the fact that, despite having eaten this meal at least 10 times a year for my entire life, I hadn’t a clue what was in it besides Chicken and Cheese. Mom had to set me straight. She had to explain to me how you had to PRE-COOK the chicken and broccoli, not just throw it all in the dish and then into the oven. She had to guide me through the super-market, via old-school giant cell phone with bad reception, to help me find the canned mushrooms and relay to me just which particular Campbell’s soup made the casserole-ness come out just right; she had to explain to me what curry was. I got home just in time to start cooking.

I had cleaned the tiny studio apartment top-to-bottom and placed the tiny dining table right in front of the sliding glass doors so we could gaze out on the magnificent view of ... er ... the people in the next apartment building. I even had candles out because, in my mind, that’s what grownups used for wooing.

But what really did the wooing was the casserole, with it’s crust of melted cheese on top browning ever-so-slightly, and it’s delicious scent filling my tiny galley kitchen-hallway-closet.

The future-boyfriend arrived with a few wildflowers he’d plucked from the obliging road divide in front of my high-rise apartment and immediately began sniffing the air. Rubbing his hands together in excitement, his eyes growing ever wide, future-boyfriend said with great hope and excitement, “Ooooo, is that curry I smell?”

Yes, it was INDEED curry, and, luckily, one of his favorite spices. Wooing accomplished. Future-boyfriend was boyfriend before the meal was through.

You, Me, and Omar

So, how do you go from being in France and loving the range and quality of wine, to Egypt, where the range is limited and quality is, at best, mediocre, but feel happy about it? I think the answer lies somewhere between the infinite human capacity to adapt and having good friends to share with.

OK, let's start somewhere. One Egyptian friend told me that alcohol is the root of all evil - he commented, as he sipped his beer, that Allah considers it the worst sin as it leads to all others. I can understand that. Especially given my Brit background and seeing all the things that go on when people are drunk. You only have to read 'The Sun' (tabloid) or watch one of those reality TV programmes that show police dealing with the aftermath of Friday nights in towns up and down the country.

I'm not that extreme - I just like a nice glass of wine, maybe a couple of times a week which is easy to arrange in the UK.Things are different here though. There are not that many shops that sell alcohol, there is not much of a range that it is locally made and imports are restricted to duty free outlets. As this is a mainly Muslim country, you don't feel that people put their hearts and souls into making a wine as they would, say, in France. For instance, I do wonder who gets to do the tasting? I suspect no one...it's just bottled and shoved on the shelves for the minority alcohol drinking community. That would certainly go some way to explaining the poor and patchy quality of the products on offer. When we first arrived here we were warned off the local alcohol - the spirits claiming to be the genuine stuff, but obviously not, such as those in my photo. Appealing as a drink called 'Cin' might seem, it's definitely off putting to read 'mad in Egypt' on a label!

So, what do you do when your duty free booze runs out? And, speaking as a wine drinker, it does run out pretty quickly when you can only get three bottles. Well, you have to turn to the local stuff. Everyone warns you how bad the wine is - and it's true, it can strike you as harsh when you glug the first mouthful. If you drink in a hotel or restaurant the waiters have all been trained to open the bottle and offer a first sip tasting so you can check that the wine is good. When Heba and I are out and about this event dissolves into giggling as we know full well what the taste will be like - and better that you begin with a good swig (rather than a dainty sip) to get your tastebuds overwhelmed before they have time to take stock! French wine experts spend a lot of time discussing the nuances, the subtlety, the variation of flavours and smells in wines. Well, in Egypt, you just get used to a kind of single flavoured, single smell wine...sometimes I can taste a bit of fruit, I can't smell it though...but maybe that is my imagination after all this time!

You don't just have to consider what you're drinking, but also where you're drinking it. You can drink alcohol at expensive hotels and in some restaurants, but it's not routinely available in almost any eating place and there aren't pubs on every corner as in the UK. Both restaurants and hotels charge for the privilege so the cheapest option is to drink at home. You find yourself going to THE shop that sells alcohol and coming away with a couple of bottles wrapped in two black plastic bags as if you've just bought some porno magazine. You invite a friend or two or they invite you and there you are...on the first floor balcony, the sun setting, with a glass of Omar Khayyam (red, white or rose) and somehow, you feel content and that all is as right as it can be with the world. OK, there may be an Egyptian wedding taking place at the end of the road (rather common at Heba’s place), with very loud music, ulalating, horses and dancing, while, at the same time, groups of young boys mill about kicking a football one the corner. There are invariably cars beeping, cars passing and a white owl flying overhead as he does each evening just as the very last glow of sunset subsides (side note: his name is David Bowie), but it feels very peaceful and just everyday stuff by now. Then there are the friends that you share with...the ones who you can laugh with, who you can talk to about your worries and frustrations, everything. This, and the fact that you have adapted to the wine just by being here, somehow make it a very good experience. So, here's to you, me and Omar on the balcony. -- Fada

Just Call Me Heba Halloumi

A few years ago on Top Chef (one of my absolute favorite TV shows that has completely inspired the foodie in me over the last few years) a contestant won a BBQ challenge by serving grilled Halloumi cheese with her dish. Now, grilling is still very much beyond me - flame + small apartment is not math that I want to have to work out; but the Halloumi, it’s milky goodness coming off a GRILL without melting, intrigued me.

Last year, just because it is so close, a friend and I flew to Cyprus for a weekend. Lovely island, Cyprus. Great wines, best moussaka I’ve ever had and, at almost every meal, some Halloumi - the squeaky, un-melty cheese of Top Chef legend.

I loved Halloumi and have been playing around with it lately. It’s not cheap, but not too expensive either, here in Cairo. I’ve eaten it as a side dish in Cyprus and Turkey, but never on bread or as a central part of my dish. I’ve experimented with melting it in to an omelet (no go, but in the experimenting, I did discover goat cheese and asparagus is my new favorite omelet combo), and putting it on chicken - but as it doesn’t really melt, that hasn’t worked. A friend used it on veggie kabobs on the grill, and that was great. I pan fry it and serve it myself as a snack and a side all the time, but can’t find a way to work it in with a meat protein.

Still though, as a side dish, it ranks very, very high on my list of things I like with eggs, potatoes, pasta, lamb, and even just a glass of wine.

Suggestions on what else I should do with it?

Fada's First Thanksgiving! (Cairo Style)

It's one of those things - you know what to expect but you don't at the same time. We've all seen those American films with big family Thanksgiving gatherings so we all have roughly the right idea. There's going to be a turkey, something made of cranberries (as, like we Brits, our American cousins like to mix sweet and savoury) and it's all to commemorate the first settlers surviving the first harsh winter stateside.

This Thanksgiving though is destined to be different from the outset. We are in Egypt and all far away from our real families. We are in Egypt where Thanksgiving isn't celebrated but Eid Al Adha, the first day of which is today, is. So, family; I feel you can make your own wherever you are. And, why not? We are all part of someone's family somewhere; we all belong to that great family of the human race so why not knit a family where you are. Turkey isn't much called for here but Heba manages to find a beautiful 15lb specimen which makes the oven shelf buckle under its weight. We shop in the morning for vegetables and all the while Egyptians are preparing for their feast too (there are flocks of sheep in the streets and cattle on trucks).


Arriving later at Heba's at 2pm to help with the preparations, I find her already peeling a pile of potatoes and that the turkey has been cooking since 11am for a dinner around 4pm. The smell of the stuffing is amazing! Lots of rosemary too. Of course, as good cooks always do, we have a little tipple whilst we prepare - vodka cocktails...mmm. There is turkey, stuffing, sweetcorn, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, peas, broccoli and gravy. You cannot help but be excessive with these kinds of meals! You think every single guest will have a huge portion of everything but forget that there is such a quantity of different dishes that it ends up as a mountain on your plate once you take a bit of everything - it seems to be the law of special occasion food.

People arrive and everyone has brought something. There is a vegetarian alternative to turkey (mini quiches), more stuffing and yorkshire puddings (yes, a Brit contribution and very welcome too), lots of wine, pecan pie, chocolate brownies, apple chocolate crisp, chocolate cake and even a bottle of port. This is what I mean by the law of special occasion food. Meanwhile things are hotting up in the kitchen with Heba as she wrestles the skin off the turkey to scoff right there and divides the meat into white and dark, throws vegetables in dishes and enlists the help of guests to take the food into the dining area. Imagine it all on the table! Then imagine it on plates with jolly pirates on and with red and white cutlery! Somehow with all the pots and pans and serving dishes and table spoons and pasta servers and napkins and split gravy on the kitchen floor, it all comes together, is passed round and it's all delicious.

Even better though, when we sit down to eat there is a lovely buzz of conversation and laughter and a sense of easy goingness and all's right with the world. We all know that all isn't right with the world but just for a short time we can suspend our sense of reality and enjoy just being there in the moment. As guests we are a mixture of Americans, Brits and a Bahamian. Our topics of discussion range from using the words 'stuffing' or 'dressing', the origins of yorkshire pudding and mince pies and how the mash resembles the mud mountain Richard Dreyfuss builds in 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind'. Probably many other things too but I'm several glasses of wine down the line by now...

We end by watching 'Charlie Brown' and 'Doctor Horrible', with second helpings, opening the port and finally, Heba's piece de resistance! She had the forethought to buy sets of divided, t.v. dinner-style containers so we can take food away for tomorrow! It's brilliant! We all help ourselves - one container for savoury, one for sweet. I leave with such a sense of well being and feeling very benevolent and content. We give about half a chocolate cake to the three guards on duty at the end of the road. They look really pleased and are licking their fingers as they stop the traffic for us so that we can pass.

Soup Exchange!!!

Before we delve into our food pasts, let’s talk about the food present; gifts of food in the now.

When you live on the edge of the Sahara, soup weather is a long time coming. While folks back home in our respective countries update their facebook profiles with tales of cold wind and snowy mornings, in Cairo we are still walking around in flip flops and short sleeves.

This week, for the first time all fall, it is predicted the temperature will not rise about 75 degrees F (24 C) - and in the evenings it has begun dipping into truly chilly, refreshing temperatures that are perfectly comfortable for walking about in clad only in a sweater.

In honor of the first days cool enough to warrant the title “Soup Weather,” Fada and I decided to have a soup exchange - I will trade a lunch of my chicken noodle soup for a lunch of her lentil soup. Below are our recipes - and you can decide for yourself which comforts you down to your chilly toes more.

Heba’s Chicken Noodle

Boil 1 whole chicken with just enough water to cover the chicken, and include 2 cloves of garlic, 1 bay leaf and a generous application of the following spices: Rosemary, Oregano, Basil, Paul Prud’hommes Poultry Seasoning (at least 2 tablespoons), Old Bay Seasoning (about 2 teaspoons), Sea Salt, and Pepper.

When the chicken is to the stage when the flesh is falling off the bone (about 90 minutes - 3 hours depending on the size of your chicken), it’s transition time! Place a colander over a bowl to catch the extra juice and transfer the chicken carcass & meat into the colander to cool down.

While the chicken cools, add the following to the broth: 1 can whole new Irish potatoes, 3 or 4 stewed tomatoes (preferably the ones that are “Italian Style”), one large onion cut into largish pieces, and some celery. If you are in to carrots and mushrooms and things, throw those in there too.

Your chicken should be cool enough to handle now. Pull it apart with your fingers and put the meat in the pot, the bones in the trash.

Simmer until onions are clear.

Add Egg Noodles or Semolina Noodles (they hold up best). If you are going to be storing a large amount of soup for lunches on later days, only let the noodles cook about 5 minutes, so they do not go soggy in storage. Cook the rest about 10 - 15 minutes and enjoy.

The memories are of sick days in winter when I’d stayed home from school; my windows covered in frost, an 80’s movie on the television, and mom bringing me a bowl of chicken noodle soup in bed to soothe my whining.

Fada's Lentil Soup (and you can leave the lentils out and make it just plain vegetable if you want)

Fry a roughly chopped medium onion in vegetable oil until transparent. Add about a kilo of chopped carrots and then a head of celery together with fresh rosemary, thyme, parsley (a good handful of this) and cinnamon (because this is Egypt and everything has cinnamon in it!). Fry for a few minutes then add 200 grams of rinsed lentils (doesn't matter what colour). Simmer in about a litre of water until everything is soft - about 45 mins - and whizz or mash, depending on your implements. You may have to add some water as the lentils absorb it.

This is a very hearty soup, just right for when you come in from chilly weather. It's better the day after too as the flavours seem to have time to meld, so perfect for taking into work in a tub and heating in a microwave, which is exactly what I'm going to do tomorrow. I've made many soups but, for me, the combination of onions, carrots and celery as a base seems to work the best. I don't actually like celery raw but they have a peppery flavour cooked which I love and that, together with the sweetness of the carrots and onion is a perfect combination.

I don't have any particular memories to go with this recipe, only layers of memories of wintry evenings, with the dark closing in, the kitchen a bit steamed up, but everyone warm inside and enjoying a soup with bread and often cheese, slices of meat, pate.