Side

In this nutty Turkish salad with an intense flavor, the bulgur is softened in the juice of fresh tomatoes.

This is a homely version of the very green parsley-and-mint salad with buff-colored speckles of bulgur wheat you find in all Lebanese restaurants all over the world. Like many items on the standard Lebanese restaurant menu, it was born in the mountain region of Zahlé, in the Bekáa Valley of Lebanon, where the local anise flavored grape liquor arak is produced. Renowned for its fresh air and its natural springs and the river Bardaouni, which cascades down the mountain, the region acquired a mythical reputation for gastronomy. In 1920 two cafés opened by the river. They gave away assorted nuts, seeds, olives, bits of cheese, and raw vegetables with the local arak. Gradually the entire valley became filled with open-air cafés, each larger and more luxurious than the next, each vying to attract customers who flocked from all over the Middle East with ever more varied mezze. The reputation of the local mountain-village foods they offered, of which tabbouleh was one of the jewels, spread far and wide and became a national institution. What started as a relatively substantial salad, rich with bulgur, was transformed over the years into an all-green herby affair. When the first edition of my book came out, I received letters telling me I had too much bulgur in that recipe. One letter from Syria explained that mine was the way people made the salad many years ago, when they needed to fill their stomachs. You see, many of my relatives left Syria for Egypt a hundred years ago, and that was how they continued to make it. The following is a contemporary version.

The salad is made in the Lebanese mountain villages with a fermented goat cheese, but you can use a strong, crumbly goat cheese.

This strong-tasting Egyptian salad made with feta cheese is good with ful medames (page 328).

In this most common of Arab salads, all the ingredients are cut very small. Do not prepare it too long before serving, and dress it just before serving.

This refreshing Iranian salad has a pure and delicate flavor.

This popular Turkish salad can be served as a cold summer soup. We sometimes used to drain the yogurt through a fine cloth to thicken it (see page 111), but now you can buy a thick strained Greek variety.

Chickpeas are so common in the Arab world that they could be a symbol of it. The pureed version combined with tahina has become ubiquitous in the West, but this one, without tahina, called “hummus habb” or “sada,” is nice too, if you dress it with plenty of lemon juice and olive oil.

This salad puree is the most widely known and appreciated of all outside the Middle East (abroad it is known simply as hummus). It is the constant companion of shish kebab and ta’amia in Oriental restaurants and is also good with fish or eggplants.

A specialty of Jehan, in southern Turkey, this is served as a dip with fried mussels or baked fish, or as an accompaniment to salads and boiled vegetables, such as runner beans or cauliflower.

This version has a delicate flavor and is rather creamier than most. My mother discovered it in the Sudan, and has made it ever since. It can be a dip or a sauce.

Serve as an appetizer with pita bread, or as a sauce to accompany various dishes such as fried fish, boiled vegetables, and falafel.

This is very popular in Iran. A similar recipe, called buran, is to be found in al-Baghdadi’s thirteenth-century cookery manual (see appendix). There, fried meatballs are added to the puree, and the dish is seasoned with ground cumin and cinnamon.

It is said that the Prophet Muhammad did not like the smell of onions although he liked to eat them, and he therefore asked people not to attend the mosque smelling of onion or garlic. According to numerous sayings and proverbs, onions have a low rating in Arab folklore, but they are very much appreciated and often eaten raw, quartered or sliced. An Iranian version with added mint called sarkeh piaz is a relish to serve with broiled meats