GENERAL FEATURES OF MIDDLE EASTERN FOOD

I have noted a few general features of Middle Eastern cooking which may help to form a better understanding of the character of this cuisine.

Cooking fats used in most countries in the past were rather heavy. In particular, alya, the rendered fat from a sheep’s or lamb’s tail, was extremely popular. Many of the medieval recipes I have included start with ‘melt tail’ or ‘fry in tail’. They refer to alya. As a special refinement it was sometimes coloured red or yellow. Today, although this fat is still used for cooking in a few districts, it has generally been replaced by a clarified butter called samna, ordinary butter, margarine and oil.

Samna, the most favoured, is butter (usually made from buffaloes’ milk) which has been melted over boiling water and clarified by straining it though thin dampened muslin. The impurities which cause butter to burn and darken are eliminated, as well as much of the water content. It is rich and strong with a distinctive taste, and a little of it will give the same result as a much larger quantity of butter. It also keeps well. A type of samna sold in jars in Indian shops in England is called ghee.

The usual oils are olive, cotton seed, nut, corn and sesame. Olive oil is preferred for dishes which are to be eaten cold and for frying fish.

As a general rule, people like to fry or sauté their meat and vegetables before adding water to make stews and soups. These acquire a darker colour and a richer flavour, while the meat, sealed by the preliminary frying, retains its juices. The Moroccans of Fez are an exception; their pale, delicate lamb stews are distinguished from those of the inhabitants of other Moroccan towns. They do not fry the ingredients, but cook them from the start in water with a little oil, relying on the stocks which result, and the variety and quality of the other ingredients, to give colour, texture and body to their dishes. To them it is a crime against refinement to fry meats or vegetables destined for a stew.

The utensils and the type of heat available have to a large extent determined the style of cooking. Ovens have only recently been introduced in most homes. In the past, cooking was generally done over a type of primus called a fatayel. It was a long, slow procedure, and pans were sometimes left to simmer overnight. This habit has remained to the present day, although the necessity may have passed, and it is more usual for food to be prepared over heat than for it to be baked or roasted in an oven.

It was customary in the past, and to a lesser degree it still is even today, to send certain dishes to be cooked in the ovens of the local bakery. This was a feature of the way of life. People hurried about in the streets with huge trays or casseroles, sometimes balancing them on their heads. Life at the ovens bustled with activity and humour. I am told of great-aunts who sealed their pans with a paste made of flour and water, ostensibly in order to cook the dish under pressure, but also to ensure that no one introduced an unwholesome, impure or prohibited ingredient out of spite. Many people specified precisely in what position they wanted their pans placed in the enormous ovens. Others, perfectionists, sat by the ovens on wicker stools throughout the cooking time, watching their food and giving directions for the pans to be moved this way and that, in order to vary the degree of the heat. Today, dishes which would in the past have gone to the district oven (such as a roast leg of lamb surrounded by all its vegetables) are cooked in domestic ovens, but slowly, as before.

Another factor which helped to perpetuate the tradition of slow, lengthy cooking, as well as that of the more elaborate dishes which require time and craftsmanship, is the social custom which has kept women in the home until very recently.

Precision and timing are not important and no harm is done if a dish is left to simmer for an hour longer and the meat is so tender that it has fallen off the bone or the lentils have disintegrated. Nor is there any liking for red meat or underdone vegetables – unless they are eaten completely raw which is also popular.

Grilling little morsels over charcoal is associated everywhere with Muslim cooking. Skewer cookery, whether it is meat, chicken or fish kebabs (generally believed to have been developed by Turks on the field of battle), is the most popular street food in every Middle Eastern country and it is not only street vendors who are masters of the art of using the heat from dying embers.

Throughout the area, lamb is the favourite meat and the most available, but it is only in the desert lands that it is eaten in great quantities. Because of the dietary laws of the predominant religion of Islam, generally no pork is used and no wine. Even where meat is not out of reach because of the cost, it is stretched to go far in a stew or sauce or as part of the filling in vegetables, with 250 g (½ lb) serving on average four people. A wide variety of vegetables are eaten raw or cooked in olive oil to be served cold. They are also stuffed and appear in stews or as pickles. Fruits are used in many different ways. Wheat is the staple cereal of the countryside, rice is the urban one to serve as a side dish and base to most foods. Beans of all types, split peas, chick peas and lentils, have been part of the diet since time immemorial. Much is made of them; the choice depends on what grows locally. There are noodles and very thin spaghetti. A meal without bread to dip in is unthinkable and some people cannot enjoy anything without it.

Nuts have been used since ancient times in a variety of dishes and in unexpected ways. One of the regional characteristics which denotes the nationality of the cook is the selective use of nuts. Where an Egyptian or Syrian would use ground almonds or pine nuts to thicken a sauce such as tarator or almond sauce, a Turk would use ground walnuts. Iranians also use ground walnuts, for example in their faisinjan sauce for chicken or duck, in the same way as they are used for the Circassian chicken. In Iran, pomegranate or sour cherry sauce is added to the walnut sauce, while in Turkey it is sprinkled with the favourite garnish of red paprika melted in oil.

In most countries, it is customary to place a bowl of fresh yoghourt on the table, to be eaten with such varied foods as eggah, pilavs, stuffed vegetables, salads and kebabs. It is sometimes flavoured with salt, mint and crushed garlic. In Turkey, yoghourt is used extensively as a bed for meat or vegetables, or to be poured over salads, eggs, vegetables, rice, almost anything in fact. It is also used as a cooking liquid, particularly in the Lebanon, Turkey and Iran.

Each country has developed its own special way of making a paper-thin pastry. The most usual is to pull out a soft dough as much as it can possibly be stretched; another is to make very thin pancakes with a batter. With melted butter brushed in between leaves, the result is a type of puff pastry.

People do not usually eat puddings or sweets at meal time. They are usually reserved for visitors and festive occasions. Each country has many types of milk pudding and each has an assortment of pastries stuffed with nuts and bathed in syrup.

Flavours range from delicate and subtle to fierce and powerful. Persians favour dishes delicately balanced in between sweet and sour, cooked with vinegar, lemon and sugar, and the juice of sour pomegranates. They share with Moroccans a predilection and a skill for combining the textures and flavours of meats and fruits. All these tastes have been adopted to some degree in the neighbouring countries.

Garlic is generally liked, both raw and fried. Many will put a whole head in the ashes of a fire to mellow and soften to a cream.

The sharp taste of lemons or limes can be tasted in many salads and cooked dishes. A rather musty taste is obtained by Iranians and Iraqis with a dried variety, and a subdued one by Moroccans with lemons pickled in brine. The scents of rose and orange blossom water are evident in sweet dishes which are sometimes made with honey instead of sugar. The Orient is so partial to the sensual pleasures of perfumes and aromatics that the widest possible variety of herbs, spices, woods, and essences are used in the kitchen. They are an expression of the voluptuous Semitic taste for pleasure and the happy life which even the ascetic puritans do not attempt to resist.

Taste and pleasure are not the only considerations, for good healthy eating is part of the Arab philosophical doctrine of the perfect concordance of the elements of the universe with those of human nature. In the past medical men wrote books on dietetics; today those who can, strive for a balanced diet.

Understanding a Cuisine – National and Regional Differences

Having collected a rich and extraordinary assortment of recipes from a great number of people, many of whom did not know the origins of their favourite dishes, and had picked them up at some point in their wanderings – from a place they had visited, from a relative or a chance acquaintance, I tried to give them a national identity. It was impossible to class them by countries because of the overlap and similarities; there would be too much repetition. Instead, a picture emerged of one culinary tradition; very poor in parts, extremely varied and rich in others and with more regional than national variations. There were often more differences between town and country than across a border, and neighbouring towns in the same country sometimes had different specialities while the main towns of different countries had the same foods.

The reasons for this are to be found in the geography and history of the area. The geographical differences are extremely wide; there are large, empty deserts and lush countryside, great rivers and arid hills, green mountains, marshlands and long coastlines. Not every country has inherited a bit of each, nor do they have the same produce. Their cooking reflects those differences but it also mirrors the ramified complexities of the past. The result of a shared history and the unifying influences of the Arab and Islamic and later Ottoman empires with their inherent divisions, bitter struggles and conflicts, has been the development of one culinary tradition that can be divided into four main branches. Of these, the most exquisite and refined and one of the least known abroad is the Iranian cuisine, which is the ancient source of much of the haute cuisine of the Middle East. It is based on long-grain rice, which grows around the Caspian Sea. This is served at every meal, cooked to the highest standard of perfection and accompanied by a variety of sauces or mixed with meats, vegetables, fruits and nuts.

In Syria, Lebanon and Jordan the cooking is much the same, for boundaries here are only recent. It is in this patchwork of creeds and communities where Arab revival and consciousness first took root that what is known as ‘Arab’ food is at its best. Urban cooking is based on rice, country food on cracked wheat. It is no accident that the area has been called the ‘Fertile Crescent’ for the soil bears the richest variety and quality of vegetables and fruits. Although some of their neighbours with a sheep-farming economy laugh at the ‘vegetable-eaters’, their is nevertheless the most popular cuisine of the Arab world.

Turkish cooking is the one which has influenced most countries abroad and which we have known longest and best, for the Ottoman Empire expanded over an enormous territory for hundreds of years, leaving its traces on the tables of such countries as Bulgaria, Romania, Yugoslavia, Hungary, Greece, Cyprus, Crete, Egypt, parts of Russia and North Africa. In all these countries you will find the same kebabs and rice and wheat dishes, savoury pies and yoghourt salads and the nutty, syrupy pastries with paper-thin or shredded dough.

The fourth distinctive cooking style is that of North Africa, where Moroccan cuisine is especially magnificent. It is based on the couscous of the original Berber inhabitants with centuries-old echoes from Spain, Portugal and Sicily and the more recent influence of France. Remarkably, it bears the strongest signs of inheritance from ancient Persia in the art of combining ingredients and mixing spices.

I was tempted to learn more about the origins of the dishes. The search became fascinating, although it was soon clear that, to a certain extent, it would be impossible to determine their true sources. The same recipes seemed to turn up in several countries. One could not be certain as to when exactly they had come or from where, and who had introduced them to whom. But it was a thrill to discover a dish mentioned in some historical or literary work, in a poem or in a proverb, and to conjure up the circumstances of its arrival in a particular place, to guess which battle and which conquering general had brought it, and to wonder why one country had adopted it while another had rejected it.

The history of this food is that of the Middle East. Dishes carry the triumphs and glories, the defeats, the loves and sorrows of the past. We owe some to an event, or to one man; the Caliph who commissioned it, the poet who sang it, or the Imam who ‘fainted on receiving it’.

Nothing was more valuable to me in my pursuit, nor more exciting, than the discovery of writings by the French Orientalist, Professor Maxime Rodinson, on the history of Arab food. I am much indebted to him and in particular to his study of early culinary manuscripts. I have dealt with these in greater detail in this new edition for they have not ceased to fascinate me.

A Cuisine Shaped by a Tumultuous History

A look into the past of the Middle East, a region strategically located athwart the crossroads of great cultures, shows it constantly beset by endless currents and cross-currents, great and small wars and all-embracing empires with factional and dynastic rivalries. All this, with the shifting allegiances, cultures and subcultures and people spilling from one part to another, has affected the kitchen very much to its advantage. Here is its story.

The early origins of Middle Eastern food can be found in Bedouin dishes and the peasant dishes of each of the countries involved. In the case of Egypt, one can go back as far as Pharaonic times to find the foods still eaten by the Egyptians today: roast goose, melokhia soup, bamia and batarekh. In his Dictionary of the Bible, J. Hastings writes that the ‘Hebrews in the wilderness looked back wistfully on the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic of Egypt; all of these were subsequently cultivated by them in Palestine’. He also lists other foods mentioned in the Bible, such as varieties of beans and lentils, chick peas, bitter herbs (still eaten today in the Passover ritual), olives, figs, grapes and raisins, dates, almonds and nuts. These were prepared in a manner similar to that of the Egyptians, probably remembered by the Jews from their time in Egypt. One speciality the Hebrews adopted was a fish, split open, salted and dried in the sun. It was very useful to take on long journeys, and it is still considered a great delicacy all over the Middle East.

Little is known about what the other ancient inhabitants of the Middle East ate – the Syrians, Lydians, Phrygians, Cappadocians, Armenians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Cilicians and Mesopotamians. But one can assume that these prosperous, civilized states have had highly developed and luxurious culinary traditions, undoubtedly influenced by Greek and Roman customs, which fused together at different times during their history of invasions and conquests. The inhabitants of the arid desert areas of Arabia and the Sahara produced the spartan food still popular with the Bedouins today.

The Persian Influence

The Persian Empire of c. 500 B.C. was the earliest empire to envelop the region. Macedonian Greeks followed to radiate their culture, culinary and other. As the Romans and Parthians fought for dominance, the states they governed assimilated their traditions – and their cooking. And while these empires were won and lost, the character and style of Middle Eastern food was born.

It is in the Persia of the Sassanid period (third to seventh century) that it blossomed. The reign of King Khusrow I inaugurated the most brilliant period of the Sassanid era, and with it the decline of Byzantine power. Alexander the Great and his successors had made part of Persia, as well as parts of India, Hellenic strongholds. The debris of Hellenic civilization remained for many centuries, mingling and fusing with the Persian and Indian civilizations. There was crossfertilization in the kitchen as there was with philosophies, myths and cultures. Similarities in food in these countries today, particularly between India and Persia, bear witness to these early influences.

In the reign of Khusrow II (early seventh century), Byzantium was finally defeated, and the Persian generals conquered Antioch, Damascus, Jerusalem and Alexandria. The triumphs of this great king were matched by his growing cruelty, vanity and greed. Enormous sums were spent on his pleasures and those of his court. Persian tales and legends describe his fantastic banquets, lavishly laid, dazzling with luxury and extravagance. In his book L’Iran sous les Sassanides, Arthur Christensen describes some of the dishes popular at the time, and the court’s favourite recipes. It is then that some of the dishes so familiar today made their first appearance. A ‘dish for the King’ consisted of hot and cold meats, rice jelly, stuffed vine leaves, marinated chicken and a sweet date purée. A ‘Khorassanian dish’ was composed of meat grilled on the spit and meat fried in butter with a sauce. A ‘Greek dish’ was made with eggs, honey, milk, butter, rice and sugar – a sort of rice pudding. A ‘Dehkan dish’ consisted of slices of salted mutton with pomegranate juice, served with eggs.

Young kid was popular, so was beef cooked with spinach and vinegar. All kinds of game and poultry were eaten; in particular, hens fed on chenevis were hunted and ‘frightened’ before they were killed, and then grilled on the spit. The lower part of the chicken’s back was considered the tastiest. Today it is still a delicacy, sometimes called ‘the mother-in-law’s morsel’. Meat was marinated in yoghourt and flavoured with spices. Many different kinds of almond pastry were prepared, jams were made with quinces, dates stuffed with almonds and walnuts. All this is still done today. Our dishes were savoured by Khusrow and his favourite wife, Shirin.

The decline of the Sassanids had started by the end of Khusrow’s reign, but even after this grandiose empire had crumbled, its music and its food survived. Many Arab and Turkish dishes today betray their origins by their Persian names.

Dishes Spread to the Far Corners of the Islamic Empire

The spread of Islam was the most important factor in the development of a gastronomy comparable to that of France and China. The death of the Prophet Muhammad in Arabia in the year A.D. 632 was followed by victorious wars waged by the followers of his faith. Bedouin Arabs burst out of the Arabian Peninsula, conquered one territory after another, converted it to Islam and established an enormous Islamic Empire stretching across Asia, North Africa, Spain and Sicily. Wherever they went with their sword the Arabs brought their tastes and those of the countries they conquered, amalgamating and spreading the foods from one part of the empire to another.

In the early days, during the Umayyad period when Damascus was the capital of the empire, the Arab tribes, led by the family of Muhammad, established themselves as a ruling class, separate and above their conquered subjects. The Bedouin warriors, quartered in their great army encampments, ate only once a day and kept aloof and superior with high standards of restraint and strict, austere living. Their primitive tastes collided with the local Byzantine and Persian hedonism. They ate very simple foods which combined ingredients of agricultural and pastoral origin. Preparation was elementary – the Bedouin diet consisted of bread and dates; of mutton, with some goat and camel meat, and the milk of these animals; with the occasional game and wild berries found in the desert. The settled agricultural populations ate chicory, beets, gourds, courgettes, marrow, cucumber, leeks, onions and garlic, olives, palm hearts, broad beans, lemons, pomegranates and grapes. A gruel called harira was made of dried barley meal to which water, butter or fat were added, and flour was cooked in milk. Spices were hardly used, even though the Arabs were engaged in transporting them to Europe. They obtained too high a price on the Roman market to be used locally.

The tastes of the Prophet prevailed. His favourite dishes, tharid, bread crumbled in a broth of meat and vegetables, and hays, a mixture of dates, butter and milk, were still popular. Muhammad had a special liking for sweetmeats and honey and he was fond of cucumbers. He also liked fat meat. When a lamb or a kid was being cooked, he would go to the pot, take out the shoulder and eat it. It is said that he never ate reclining, for the angel Gabriel had told him that such was the manner of kings. He used to eat with his thumb and his two forefingers; and when he had done, he would lick them, beginning with the middle one.

Over the years, Arab ranks were infiltrated and diluted by Byzantine, Persian and the other conquered peoples. The subject classes, slowly working their way up through the evolving Islamic society to a footing of equality with the Arabs, came at last to constitute the new society themselves. The Abbasid régime was one of Persian ascendancy in which Persians flooded into Islam, transporting with them the core of their civilization. The Arabs, dazzled by the aristocratic brilliance of the Persians they had conquered, adopted their dishes with their traditions of chivalry and good living. The other subject nations, Asian, Aramean, Egyptian and Greek, later also came to the fore, bringing their own sometimes prestigious culinary heritage to the now cosmopolitan society.

Thus the Arabs, even though their own cooking was rudimentary, brought about the marriage of cooking styles of the ancient Mediterranean and the Near East and the opulent cooking of Persia.

The Golden Age

In the Abbassid period from the ninth to the twelfth century, the Golden Age of Islam, cooking was transformed into an art which reached magnificent heights. The Islamic Empire occupied far-flung areas of the world – Egypt, and all of North Africa, nearly all Spain, the islands of Sicily and Crete, with a few southern Italian towns, besides the north of Arabia, Syria, Armenia, the south-east part of the Caucasus, Mesopotamia and Iraq, Persia and Afghanistan. It was the most powerful influence in the world. Mecca was its religious centre and Baghdad was the capital, the cultural and political hub. The creative culinary genius flourished especially under the reign of Harun-al-Rashid (786–801). Culinary literature proliferated and reached the level of an art. There were two parallel trends. One, the result of the interest in food of the Abbassid upper classes, written by them or for them, was a princely activity devoted to the refinement of pleasure and to setting high standards of taste and savoirvivre for the élite – poets, astrologers, astronomers, scholars, princes and even Caliphs took pleasure in writing about food. The other was the development of a branch of medicine: dietetics, and this was the work of doctors concerned with health.

Gastronomy was especially esteemed in this rich period of Arab history when the search for the most delicious combinations of food, according to increasingly subtle criteria, formed the preoccupation of a distinguished society of gourmets. The banquets at the royal courts of the Caliphs of Baghdad were proverbial for their variety and lavishness. The Caliphs commissioned people to invent dishes, to write poems about foods and to sing their praise at gatherings which became legendary. Mas’údí, a writer of the time, describes one such event at the court of Mustakfi, the Caliph who was blinded and deposed in 946, in his Meadows of Gold. I quote from Professor Arberry’s translation:

"One day Mustakfi said: ‘It is my desire that we should assemble on such and such a day, and converse together about the different varieties of food, and the poetry that has been composed on this subject.’ Those present agreed; and on the day prescribed Mustakfi joined the party, and bade every man produce what he had prepared. Thereupon one member of the circle spoke up: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I have some verses by Ibn al-Mu’tazz in which the poet describes a tray containing bowls of kämakh.’"

Ibn al-Mu’tazz too had been a tragic prince who ruled for one day only and was put to death in 908. The poem, about a tray of hors d’oeuvre, described the different elements in an ardent and sensuous manner. Others followed with long poems to the glory of many delicacies in terms of ecstatic love.

Another recited a work by the poet, astrologer and culinary expert Husain al-Kushâjim, describing a table of delicacies, of roast kid, partridges, chickens, tardina, sanbusaj, nad, buran and sweet lozenges. Another then stood up and recited a poem of Ibn al-Rumi, describing wast. Another quoted Ibrāhīm of Mosul on the marvel of sanbusaj. Yet others glorified harisa, madira, judhaba and qata’if. Each time, Mustakfi ordered that everything that had been mentioned in the poem should be served. They ate to the sound of music and sweet maidens’ voices. Never had the narrator seen the Caliph so happy since the day of his accession. To all present, revellers, singers and musicians, he gave money and gifts. Sadly, the narrator adds, this Caliph was one day to be seized by Ahmad ibn Abi Shajâ’ Mu’izz al-dawla the Buwayhid, who had his eyes ‘put out’.

A ruling class had emerged whose members led a life of luxury and who devised a code of savoir-vivre. Manuals on how to be a connoisseur appeared. In Meadows of Gold Mas’ūdi advised people to read his other work Ahbar Az-Zaman, unfortunately lost, in which, he says,

"One can be instructed in detail on the variety of wines, on desserts, on the manner of arranging them in baskets or on plates, either piled up in pyramids, or otherwise, a culinary summary the knowledge of which is essential and which cannot be ignored by a well-bred man. One can also read about the new fashions in the way of dishes, the art of combining aromas and spices for the seasoning; subjects of conversation, as well as the way to wash one’s hands in the presence of one’s host.

Development and Character of the Court Cuisine

In 1949 Professor Maxime Rodinson published ‘Recherches sur les documents Arabes relatifs à la cuisine’ in the Revue des études islamiques. In this sociological and philological study of the history of food in the Arab world, he discusses early culinary literature, analyses cookery manuals and describes the court cuisine of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. In what follows I have also made use of the information he gives in the entry ‘Ghidha’ in the Encyclopaedia of Islam.

He describes the many changes in the new empire, which affected food habits. The spread of food products was one. Products which had formerly been grown only in one part of the area now spread throughout it. Rice is a good example. It originated in India and was grown in Syria, Iraq and Iran before Islam. Now it spread as a crop all over the Arab world and became a popular food as far away as Spain (although it did not quite take the place of wheat, which was a commodity traded on a large scale everywhere). Sugar, introduced to Iran from India shortly before the Muslim conquest, spread after this through the whole of the Mediterranean.

Large-scale transport brought food from one part of the empire to another; truffles from the desert, olive oil from Syria, dates from Iraq, coffee from Arabia. Later, a wide range of ingredients was introduced from places outside the empire. Spices such as pepper, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, cumin, coriander, betel, musc, mastic and nutmeg were brought from China, India and Africa. In the twelfth century, dried and salted fish, honey and hazelnuts came from Russia and the Slav countries, cheese from Sicily and Crete, wine, chestnuts and saffron from the South of France.

Increased travel meant that cooks from parts renowned for their food were employed in distant regions. In the Middle Ages, Egyptian cuisine and cooks had a high reputation. So did the cooks of Bolu in Turkey. And there were massive migrations, with immigrants introducing their traditional dishes into their new habitat. The rulers had huge, well-equipped and well-stocked kitchens, staffed by numerous cooks and their assistants, in which all types of dishes could be attempted.

By the tenth century there was a new prosperous élite in Baghdad which aspired to refinement and had strict rules in this matter. Their quest for the grand, the exotic and the unusual led them to the adoption of the cuisines of foreigners whose civilizations enjoyed in their eyes a certain prestige for the power and glory which they had formerly enjoyed. Hence the vogue for Iranian dishes, and later the fashion for things Turkish. The European influence began to be evident in the period of the Crusades (‘Franc’ dishes appear in the Wusla).

Characteristics of the New Court Cuisine

The cookery manuals naturally dealt with the new cuisine which was constantly developing in the kitchens of the courts, and which was much being discussed. It had not been handed down from the past and therefore needed to be recorded.

What was the style of this princely cuisine? The following features characterized it.

1. It used expensive ingredients which only a few could afford. 

Some of these were rare and came from far, such as spices; others were newly grown on Arab soil, such as rice and sugar. Chicken and lamb were used; and so were locally grown vegetables, but the more common ones such as okra, beans and figs were not.

Everyone knew which were the foods of the poor and which of the rich. (Proverbs, songs and popular literature express this awareness.) Meat and rice were for the rich; lentils, beans and honey for the poor. Although these latter foods retained their popularity, they were stigmatized in a book by al-Jahiz as the food of misers and were almost ignored in the manuscripts we have mentioned. When simple local dishes were included, they were glamorized; for example, the melted down lamb’s-tail fat was perfumed with a variety of aromatics as well as with quince and apple and dried coriander, aniseed, onion, cinnamon and mastic, and was coloured red and yellow. Bedouin dishes with dates were made grand by replacing the stones with blanched almonds. Traditional peasant dishes with wheat and lentils were enriched with meat and delicately spiced.

2. Techniques were elaborate and sophisticated. 

Methods of preserving with salt and vinegar, lemon juice and mustard were inherited from the Ancient East and from classical civilizations. Fruit was crystallized in honey. Smoke-drying was said in Egypt to be a Greek process. (In the past they had dried meat by hanging thin strips in the open or preserved it by burying it in fat.) Ancient ways were moulded to the new demands of the court – a general characteristic style developed with flavours even from as far as Spain and Turkistan, with regional variations.

3. The grander dishes were Iranian. 

Their origins are revealed in the Arab repertoire today by their names ending in -ak and -aj. Techniques of cooking and elegant ways were adopted from conquered Iran, which had been the most prestigious civilization in the area.

4. Koranic prohibitions were observed. 

Koranic regulations and prohibitions advised by the pious specialists on religious questions were followed. No pork was used and no wine.

5. Newly acquired tastes became fashionable.

The taste for highly spiced foods and sweet things appeared at a more advanced stage of Muslim civilization; it was simply a continuation of the tastes of classical antiquity. So was the taste for sweet and sour which came via Iran.

6. Visual appeal was important. 

Saffron and turmeric were used for colour, and much care was taken to give delight in presentation. Counterfeit dishes such as mock brains and an omelette in a bottle were devised as pleasant surprises.

7. Complexity was valued. 

Complexity in flavour was valued for its own sake, quite apart from the actual flavour itself. Aromatics were used in tiny quantities but in a great number and a variety of combinations. All the spices already mentioned were combined with herbs such as parsley, mint, rue, thyme, lavender, mallow, purslane, bay and tarragon. Poppy and sesame seeds, fenugreek, rose petals and rose buds were used. The result was delicate and subtle, and, if we go by the tastes handed down, not too strong or too hot.

Complexity in form was also esteemed. Confections which required skill, application and time were well considered, especially if they were small and beautifully shaped. Vegetables were hollowed out and stuffed, tiny pies were filled, elegant little parcels were made with wrappings of pastries or leaves.

The Place of Dietetics and Medical Books

Dietetics were at the same time a branch of medicine and a form of culinary literature.

Anecdotes of the period depict doctors sitting at the tables of Caliphs to advise them on what was good for them. (Maimonides sat for al-Malik al Afdal.)

The educated classes paid a great deal of attention to dietetic precepts so that this science was of great importance. It stemmed for the most part from the scientific medicine systematized by the Greeks and was based on the theory of humours, from which all kinds of conclusions had been reached on the nature of each food and its suitability to one or another human temperament. It incorporated local popular ideas – that dates cause ophthalmia but are good for childbirth, for instance – and penetrated deeply among the masses.

Arab books on dietetics preceded medical books, and all the early books of medicine contained a long chapter enumerating, usually in alphabetical order, the attributes and faults of each food from the point of view of bodily and spiritual well-being. They also gave recipes, which were much like those which went round the courts, and accompanied them by critical advice on what was good for the liver and the heart.

Culinary Literature Disappears; Cooking Styles Continue

Arab culinary literature faded with the decline of this brilliant civilization and of the Abbassid dynasty which was marked by the fall of Baghdad in 1258 at the hands of the Mongols. Gastronomy continued to have its enthusiasts, but with the growth of religious puritanism they became more discreet. Its authors were no longer the aristocratic arbiters of taste but obscure people who painstakingly recorded recipes for their own use and the instruction of their servants.

Some of al-Baghdadi’s recipes for stews could be word for word instructions for an Iranian khoresh or a Moroccan tagine of today; and we still make in my family many of the dishes described in the Wusla. As for the methods, grinding fine, rolling into balls or oblongs, pounding in the mortar, simmering long in broth, cutting up in lozenges, bathing in syrup – every touch and movement required are those employed today. As in the past, milk puddings are thickened with ground rice and cornflour or semolina; and the same honeyed pastries filled with chopped nuts are the usual fare of vendors in the street, to be kept preciously in boxes for festive occasions or the much-appreciated visit of an unexpected guest.

The Ottoman Empire

The next empire to pick up the immense culinary fund from the derelict Caliphate was the great Turkish Ottoman Empire in the fourteenth century. The Turks made their first appearance in the ninth century as slave soldiers (Mameluks), drawn from the steppe-lands of Central Asia for the regular armies of the empire. These Turkish slaves came to wield great power, and after ruling with a number of small local dynasties they were in control of the whole Islamic realm. A nomadic branch, the Osmanlis, or Ottomans, were to establish the most powerful Muslim and indeed world empire in history, pushing the boundaries into the heart of Europe.

Fierce and warlike by nature, they had little sophistication by way of food (their shish kebabs are said to have originated on the battlefields when their invading armies had to camp outdoors in tents awaiting a new assault). The Sultan’s table, nevertheless, soon took on the lustre and glamour of the Abbassid banquets. At first the Turks took the Persian cuisine as their model but gradually they developed one of their own based on the foods they adopted from the welter of different peoples, creeds and ethnic groups of their empire, and especially those of their slaves who were palace cooks. The extraordinary amalgam of dishes was the result of the unique character of the empire and its ruling class whose members entered as the Sultan’s slave and remained a slave all their lives as part of the Ottoman Slave Household. This institution was so superior in discipline and in organizational efficiency that it allowed the empire to survive for centuries. The more able recruits were subjected to a strict course of training and turned into courtiers, husbands of princesses, even Grand Viziers. The profession of public slave on a high level was dangerous, all-important and glorious, indeed the most splendid profession in the empire and it was open exclusively to children born of infidels.

The royal family, the Sultan’s wives, palace and government officers, the standing army – all were slaves and descendants of slaves. The Sultan himself was the son of a slave. Most were Christians or their children and had been captured in battle or bought in markets from Barbary pirates and Krim Tartars. Some had been given as gifts by Venetian traders. They had been plucked from Caucasian highlands, from Russian forests and Eurasian steppe-lands, and some came from Western Europe (a few as volunteers). Wrenched from all family ties and roots, they were more ready to serve loyally. As blue eyes, rosy cheeks and fair hair increased in the mixed population of the greatest Muslim state, so a wide variety of foods remembered from far-off lands entered the culinary pool.

The first Turkish-born cooks employed in the Palace of Topkapi were from Bolu, the mountain region where the Sultans went hunting. According to legend they were so pleased with the young men who cooked their meats for them in the open that they brought them back to the Palace.
In this extraordinary society food was all-important. The insignia of the Janissary force was the pot and spoon which symbolized a standard of living higher than that of other troops. The titles of its officers were drawn from the camp kitchen, from ‘First Maker of Soup’ to ‘First Cook’ and ‘First Carrier of Water’, and the sacred object of the regiment was the stew pot around which the Janissaries gathered, not merely to eat but to take counsel among themselves.

The courts of the glamorous and romantic Sultans such as Mehmed the Conqueror and Suleiman the Magnificent were notorious for their luxury and devotion to the pleasures of the table. In their kitchens dishes from all over the world were developed and perfected. Cooks were recruited from the provinces or learned their trade early on as slave page-boys in the palace school, where they were taught to sharpen knives and swords, to mix drinks and cook the Sultan’s favourite dishes for his sumptuous banquets. The most powerful Grand Vizier of all time, Mehmed Koprulu, started off as a young cook. Cooking was one of the most important of the arts and everyone, poet, astrologer, physician or prince, wrote recipes, songs and poems about food.

The sixteenth-century Turkish poet Revani, in his Işret Nāme, deals with festive themes, and writes of the glorious banquets of the time: cultured revellers seated in a circle around crystal cups and flagons, each excelling in some art or other, debating a point of literature or philosophy, while a few musicians play the plaintive melodies of the East, a singer tells of tragic loves and a fair young cupbearer goes her rounds. He also describes the various delicacies which figure at these banquets: sausages lying as if they were serpents keeping guard over a treasure, roast fowl dancing with delight to see the wine, grains of rice like pearls, saffron dishes like yellow-haired beauties, börek which might flout the sun, chorek shaped like the moon, jelly on which the almond fixeth her eyes, qada’if like a silver-bodied loveling.

By the nineteenth century the decline of the Ottoman Empire was marked by corruption, inefficiency and brutality, and the society was by then based on sectarian allegiances. While the different countries struggled to break free with the impulse of modern European nationalism, they looked in their own particular traditions for their pleasures.

Pre-Ottoman and pre-Islamic foods such as the Berber couscous and the Egyptian ful medames were celebrated with greater fervour and the small sects and communities clung to their differences, making their specialities a proof of identity.

But the Turks have nevertheless left their traces on the tables of the countries they conquered – not only in the Middle East but also in the Balkans, in Bulgaria, Romania, Serbia, Yugoslavia and Hungary, Greece, Cyprus, Crete and parts of Russia, as an agreeable compensation for past tyrannies and spilt blood. In their own country, the old court cuisine is represented mainly in Istanbul and by the restaurant trade, while the cooking of Anatolia remains largely unknown in its great regional diversity.

The traditions of the aristocratic cuisine are kept going by what remains of an old and prestigious trade: the profession of cook or chef, which has never been equalled anywhere else in the Middle East. In the heart of Anatolia, near the Lake Abant, lies the vilayet of Bolu from where cooks were recruited to serve in the Royal Palace or the houses of the nobles. Leaving the fields to be tilled by women, the young men of Bolu came to Istanbul where, as apprentices to one of their relatives, they learnt the secrets of the trade. At the age of twelve or thirteen, boys were sent to Istanbul to work in the kitchens near their fathers, uncles or cousins, who taught them what no stranger was allowed to learn.

At the age of eighteen or nineteen, a young man, by then a fully fledged cook, would blushingly ask the masters for permission to visit the village. There he would marry, leave his wife and come back to his kitchen in Istanbul. This is how a closed society of chefs was formed. Although nowadays the trade is not so jealously guarded, the really good cooks still come from the region of Bolu and especially from the villages of Gerede and Mengen.

The writer Emine Foat Tugay writes about these famous chefs in her family chronicle "Three Centuries"(1963), where she says:

"Turkish cooking of the past ranked among the great cuisines of the world. Much of it has disappeared together with the excellent chefs, who had learnt their trade as apprentices in konaks and palaces, where they had to satisfy the exigent palates of their masters. They gradually worked their way up under the master chef from scullery-boy or apprentice to become third, second, and finally first assistant cook. After ten or twelve years the chef would declare his first assistant capable of working on his own account. The young cook then invited all the other chefs to a dinner which he prepared single-handed. He would choose all the most difficult dishes, and anxiously awaited their verdict, since it was they and they only who were empowered to declare him a master cook. If the dinner won the approval of the chefs, they would present him with a large silver watch on a thick silver chain, and would wrap around him, from the waist downwards, a wide striped cotton cloth which took the place of an apron, an insignia of his new status. Henceforth he was their equal.

Every cook in Turkey is a native of the province of Bolu. They never marry anyone outside their own village, and leave their wives at home to look after their fields and to bring up the children. They take leave once a year, for two or three months, and call in a colleague of equal capacity to replace them in the interval. This custom still holds good nowadays, though otherwise the system which I have mentioned has disappeared so completely that even the now middle-aged do not remember it. The old chefs almost always brought their complete staffs with them when they were appointed and took them away with them when they left".

New Trends

After the collapse of the Ottoman Empire in the early part of this century, the identity of the Arabic-speaking world crystallized as an Arab world and at the same time the influence of Europe became very important. People came to settle from all over the world. It was the Middle East of Lawrence Durrell, the Alexandria where Greek and Italian were spoken on the corniche, the Lebanon where most people spoke French. Italy was in Libya, the British were everywhere, the Maghreb was French. In this cosmopolitan and Europeanized climate, Western food, especially French cuisine, was considered more desirable. Restaurants and caterers offered European menus. Food in general tended to become lighter and cooking fats more digestible. Dishes appeared in which the tastes of East and West had fused. A handful of cookery books in Arabic featured dishes such as roly-poly bel costarda (a type of swiss roll) and macaroni al Italiani. The Grand Hotel of Khartoum offered a menu devised in the time of Gordon which was very reminiscent of British Rail fare, although clients could be served local food on request.

Each country began to follow its own gastronomic way and cultivate its peasant or regal past, its Arab identity or its closeness to Europe. Traditional local dishes were more openly appreciated but many countries were too poor to make the most of their gastronomic heritage. Women went out to work when they could and impoverished bourgeoisies could no longer keep up old standards with a cuisine which required the skill of patient hands, nor could they always find the good ingredients.

Socialism and Islamic egalitarianism have created a new mood in the kitchen. Ideology has elevated peasant food and ‘cheap, quick and easy’ things have become respectable. Presumably it is not so easy to persuade hostile servants to spend hours pounding and stuffing. The humble food which had been stigmatized in the past as low class and miserly has now become fashionable. It had probably always been the preferred ‘family food’ with the special touch usually bestowed on what is for the nearest and dearest, but now it has also become the food for entertaining. It is rich in grains, beans and vegetables and very healthy.

The oil-rich countries, generally those with a starker diet and rudimentary methods of cooking, can afford to import culinary talent from their poorer but more sophisticated neighbours. People in Egypt complain that the Saudis are taking away their family cooks. And with the new mobility of businessmen, professionals, technicians and all types of workers within the Arab world, there is a greater familiarity with the styles of cooking from one part to another. A few recipes have been widely adopted and popularized (some appear on menus of international hotels). The trouble is that when they become standardized, something is lost and false trimmings appear.

Social Aspects

The activities of cooking and eating reflect many subtly intricate facets of the Middle Eastern character and way of life. They are intensely social activities, while the dishes hold within them centuries of local culture, art and tradition.

Hospitality is a stringent duty all over the Middle East. ‘If people are standing at the door of your house, don’t shut it before them’, and ‘Give the guest food to eat even though you yourself are starving’, are only two of a large number of sayings which serve to remind people of this duty, a legacy of nomadic tribal custom when hospitality was the first requirement for survival.

Sayings of Muhammad in the Quran, folk proverbs, religious, mystical and superstitious beliefs set up rules of social savoir-vivre to the minutest detail – sweetly tyrannical, immutable and indisputable rules of civility and manners – to dictate the social behaviour of people towards each other, and sometimes submerge and entangle them in social obligations.

The ultimate aim of civility and good manners is to please: to please one’s guest or to please one’s host. To this end one uses the rules strictly laid down by tradition: of welcome, generosity, affability, cheerfulness and consideration for others.

People entertain warmly and joyously. To persuade a friend to stay for lunch is a triumph and a precious honour. To entertain many together is to honour them all mutually. The amount of food offered is a compliment to the guest and an indication of his importance. Failure to offer food and drink shows a dislike of visitors and brings disrepute to the host.

It is equally an honour to be a guest. Besides the customary obligations of cordiality and welcome, there is the need for the warmth of personal contact and cheerful company, the desire to congregate in groups, and the wish to please. It is common when preparing food to allow for an extra helping in case an unexpected guest should arrive. Many of the old recipes for soups and stews carry a note at the end saying that one can add water if a guest should arrive. When a meal is over there should always be a good portion of food left, otherwise one might think that someone has not been fully satisfied and could have eaten more.

The host should set before his guest all the food he has in the house, and apologize for its meagreness, uttering excuses such as: ‘This is all the grocer had’, or ‘I was just on my way down to the confectioner’s’, or ‘For the past two weeks I have been preparing for my niece’s wedding and have not had time to make anything else’.

If a guest comes unexpectedly, the host must never ask why he has come, but receive him with a smiling face and a look of intense pleasure. After a ceremony of greetings, he should remark on the pleasure of seeing him and the honour of such a visit. The guest should never say right away why he has come, if there is a reason, but first inquire about the family, friends and affairs of his host. The latter must treat his guests as though he were their servant; to quarrel with them would be a disgrace. He must never argue with them about politics or religion, but should always acquiesce. He must never ask his guests if they would like food or drink, but provide these automatically, insisting that they have them and ignoring repeated refusals.

‘The first duty of a host is cheerfulness’ is a maxim strictly abided by. A host must amuse and entertain, provide light gossip, jokes, and, occasionally, riddles and a little satire. He may also offer a tour of the house and an inspection of new acquisitions.

A guest, in turn, must also play his role correctly. He should ‘guard his voice, shorten his sight and beautify (praise) the food’. That is, although he must commend everything, exclaim in admiration and congratulate, he should not look about too much, nor inspect too closely. The Quran advises him to talk nicely and politely: ‘Sow wheat, do not sow thorns; all the people will like you and love you.’ ‘Don’t enter other people’s houses, except with permission and good manners.’ ‘Beautify your tongue and you will obtain what you desire.’

A guest must at first refuse the food offered to him, but eventually give in on being urgently pressed. In particular, he must never refuse dishes which have already been sampled by others of the company, as this would put them in an uncomfortable position. If he comes invited, he must bring a present, and if this happens to be a box of confectionery, the host must open it immediately and offer him some.

The Quran advises that ‘It is not right for a man to stay so long as to incommodate his host’. When a guest leaves, he must bless his host and he is under an obligation to speak well of him to others.

However, this beautifully laid-out pattern has its pitfalls. The wrong sort of admiration might be mistaken for envy, and give rise to a fear of the ‘evil eye’, of which it is said that ‘half of humanity dies’. Folklore provides phrases to avoid this. The words ‘five on your eye’ are equivalent to the Western ‘touch wood’. Blessings uttered towards various saints and the invocation of the name of God also act as a protection from evil. The person who is the object of admiration may protect himself by denouncing the reality of his good fortune and protesting that he has also been the victim of various misfortunes.

However, a remark of admiration directed towards a personal possession may oblige the owner to offer it instantly and pressingly.

Cooks always cook to suit the taste of those who will eat the food. They need and expect approval. Often, dishes for the evening are lengthily discussed in the morning. Husbands express their wishes as to what they would like for dinner, and while they are eating, often remark on the success of the dish. However, a few husbands of my acquaintance believe that they must criticize something in a meal or complain that the dish requires a little more of one thing or another, thereby preventing their wives from becoming complacent.

Cooks are constantly coaxed and encouraged to surpass themselves and to perfect family favourites. Cooking ability is rated highly among female accomplishments. One Arab saying goes: ‘A woman first holds her husband with a pretty face, then by his tummy and lastly with the help of a sheb-sheb (a wooden slipper).

Cooking is often done in company. Mothers and daughters, sisters, cousins and friends love to talk about what they will serve their family for lunch or dinner, and they sit with or help each other to prepare delicacies which require time and skill. At all special occasions, such as family gatherings and national or religious holidays, the hostess can count on the help of many eager and generous relatives and friends, who come to help prepare the food, sometimes two or three days ahead. If they are unable to be present at the preparations, they will often send a plateful of their own particular speciality instead.

People always turn to food to mark important events. Weddings, circumcisions, religious festivals, new arrivals, in fact most occasions call for a particular dish or delicacy, or even a whole range of specialities. If these are lacking when it is customary to include them, it is a cause for offence and gossip. Criticism and disapproval are feared most by those who wish to impress and do the right or customary thing. This accounts for the fact that parties, though often extraordinarily lavish and varied, are also repetitive within each community. No table could be without stuffed vine leaves, kahk, ma’amoul or baklava and the usual range of delicacies. How fearful one is of the critical gaze of a guest searching for some speciality which is missing from the table!

It is said that there is a language of flowers. In the Middle East there exists a language of food. A code of etiquette for serving and presenting particular dishes expresses subtle social distinctions. Which piece, of what, and in what order, gives away the status of the person who is being served. There are rules of procedure according to social and family status and age. A dignitary or the head of the family is served the best helping first. A guest who comes seldom or who comes from afar is served before one who is a regular and familiar visitor to the house. A bride-to-be is served ceremoniously at the house of her husband-to-be. But when she is married, her status drops considerably at the table (as it does everywhere else), to rise again when she is expecting a baby. Then, she is often pampered and allowed to indulge in extravagant yearnings. If she then gives birth to a son, her status remains high.

A person of ‘low extraction’ who insists on sitting next to one of high birth or importance might be asked: ‘What brought the sardine to the red mullet?’ A proverb advises men to pay respect to status, and to give to each according to his station: ‘Divide the meat and look at the faces.’ And a saying describes this regard: ‘When a wealthy man comes to a feast, the host tells some poor man to get up and give his place to the newcomer.’

In some parts of the Middle East where folklore is rich in beliefs about the evil eye, djinns and omens, some foods are believed to have magical powers.

Garlic is believed by some to ward off the evil eye and is sometimes hung at the front door of a house to protect its inhabitants. For its disinfectant qualities it is hung on a string around children’s necks during epidemics. In some parts, people do not eat brains for fear of becoming as stupid as the animal; in others, they eat them to fortify their own brains and become more intelligent. Some do not eat the hearts of birds in case they might acquire their timidity.

Certain beliefs are uncommon and localized, and few people will have even heard of them. Others are widespread in all the countries and communities. One of these is that eating yellow things will result in laughter and happiness; another, that eating honey and sweet things will sweeten life and protect one from sadness and evil. Predictably, things coloured black, such as very black aubergines, are considered by some to be unlucky, while green foods encourage the repetition of happy and prosperous events.

In the past, some foods were believed to have aphrodisiac qualities. Sheikh Umar Ibn Muhammed al Nefzawi, in his now famous sixteenth-century book, The Perfumed Garden, recommends various foods as a cure for impotence or as powerful sexual stimulants. For the former, he recommends eating ‘a stimulant pastry containing honey, ginger, pyrether, syrup of vinegar, hellebore, garlic, cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamoms, sparrows’ tongues, Chinese cinnamon, long pepper, and other spices’; also ‘nutmeg and incense mixed with honey’. Of foods which ‘all learned men’ acknowledge to have a positive effect in stimulating amorous desires are: an asparagus omelette, a fried-onion omelette, camel’s milk mixed with honey, eggs boiled with myrrh, coarse cinnamon and pepper, eggs fried in butter, then immersed in honey and eaten with a little bread, and simply plain chick peas. He assures his readers that ‘the efficacy of all these remedies is well known, and I have tested them’. Even today, a certain belief in the aphrodisiac powers of some foods still exists.

Cooking in the Middle East is deeply traditional and non-intellectual – an inherited art. It is not precise and sophisticated like Chinese cooking, nor is it experimental and progressive like American cooking today. Its virtues are loyalty and respect for custom and tradition, reflected in the unwavering attachment to the dishes of the past. Many have been cooked for centuries, from the time they were evolved, basically unchanged.

Yet each cook feels that within the boundaries of tradition she can improvise. She can pit her artfulness and wits, her sensuous feeling for the food, its texture and aroma, to create a unique and exquisite dish with the imprint of her own individual taste.

Of the people who have given me recipes, most added remarks such as: ‘Personally, I like to add a little mint’, implying that this was their own innovation; or ‘I always put double the usual amount of ground almonds’, meaning that they are extravagant; or ‘I use dry breadcrumbs instead of soaked bread’, to show their ingenuity; or, with a touch of guilt, ‘I use stock cubes instead of making a chicken stock because it is easier, but I find it very acceptable’. Somebody even devised a way of stuffing courgettes without actually doing so, by curling slices around a compact ball of meat and rice filling and securing them tightly with a toothpick.

Nevertheless, if I suggested to those same people a totally new taste or a totally new form or method for a dish, they were mildly outraged or laughed incredulously at the folly of such a suggestion.

A certain malleability and a capacity to absorb new cultures while still remaining true to themselves have enabled the people of the Middle East to adopt dishes brought back by the Moors from Spain, those introduced by the Crusaders, Greek dishes, North African dishes such as couscous and, more recently, French, Italian and even English dishes, and then to adapt them to suit local tastes.

Of the dishes created by the local way of life and general character are the large variety of mezze, served before a meal, or to accompany drinks at any time of the day. These reflect the passion that the Middle Eastern peoples have for leisure and the importance they attach to their peace of mind, the luxury of tranquil enjoyment which they call keif. It is for them a delight to sit at home on their balconies, in their courtyards, or at the café, slowly sipping drinks and savouring meeze.

The numerous stuffed mahshi, börek, sanbusak and pastries, all requiring artful handiwork, denote a local pride in craftsmanship and skill. The smaller they are the more esteemed, for it is more difficult and it takes longer. The traditional decoration of dishes down to the humblest sauce or soup with a dusting of red paprika or brown cumin and a sprinkling of chopped parsley is the result of a love of beauty and ornamentation, the same that has produced the luscious Islamic decorative arts. The sensuous blue and green patterns of the ceramics are echoed in the green chopped pistachios and pale chopped blanched almonds adorning cream puddings. The criss-cross wooden patterns of the balconies behind which the women used to hide haunt the lozenge shapes of basbousa and baklava. The colours of confectioneries, syrups and pickles are those of the brilliant dresses which appear at mûlids (festivals).

The Traditional Table

Before proceeding to the table, guests are entertained in a different room, where they often sit on sofas at floor level. A maid comes round with a large copper basin and flask, pouring out water (sometimes lightly perfumed with rose or orange blossom) for the guests to wash their hands. A towel is passed round at the same time.

Dining tables are low and round – large metal trays resting on a type of stool, or on short, carved, folding wooden legs, sometimes inlaid with mother of pearl and tortoise-shell. The trays themselves are of copper, brass or silver, beaten and engraved, sometimes inlaid with silver or other metals. Thin threads of the metal are beaten into crevices with a little hammer, making traditional oriental decorative patterns and writings: words of blessing, charms against the evil eye and words in praise of Allah. Usually several tables are placed in the room, and the dinners sit around them on cushions.

Several bowls containing a variety of dishes are placed on each table for guests to enjoy the pleasure of deciding which dish to start with, and with which delicacy to follow.

Before the meal is started, the word Bismillah (In the name of God!) is uttered by all.

In eating, a strict code of etiquette is observed. It is related that the Imam Hassan (son of Ali) listed twelve rules of etiquette to be observed.

"The first four are necessary, namely: to know that God is the Provider; to be satisfied with what he has provided; to say ‘In the name of God!’ when beginning to eat and to say ‘To God be thanks!’ when you finish. The next four are customary, and it is well to observe them, though they are not required: to wash the hands before eating; to sit at the left of the table; to eat with three fingers; and to lick the fingers after eating. The last four are rules of particular politeness: to eat out of the dish that is immediately in front of you and out of your own side of the dish; to take small pieces; to chew the food well; and not to gaze at the others at the table with you. These twelve rules form the traditional basis for the table manners of the majority of the people."

Besides these rules, there are other, subtler points of savoir-vivre. It is tolerated to eat with five fingers when eating food of a not too solid consistency, such as couscous.

It is considered sociable and polite to detach choice morsels such as chicken hearts or livers, or fish roes, and to offer these to a neighbour.

If one feels satiated, one should nevertheless continue to nibble at a dish from which others are still eating, since if one person stops eating, everyone else may feel compelled to stop too, and the dish will be removed from the table.

One must lick one’s fingers at the end of a meal only. To do so before would be a sign that one had finished.

One must always talk about pleasant and joyful things and never introduce a sad or bitter note into the conversation. One must be cheerful and entertaining, and remark on the perfection of dishes, saying, ‘Your fingers are green!’ if the hostess has prepared them or helped in their preparation; and ‘May your table always be generous to all!’ – a phrase entertaining the hope that one will be asked to eat there again soon.

Sometimes, in parts where women have not yet become emancipated, men only are invited. Islam looks upon women with suspicion. According to Muslim tradition, the Prophet Muhammad said: ‘I have not left any calamity more hurtful to man than woman.’ In some parts, women are believed to have more power to cast the evil eye, so they are served first, before their look of longing can have a harmful effect on the food.

If two people have eaten together, they are compelled to treat each other well, as the food contains a conditional curse. This is alluded to in the sayings: ‘God and the food will repay him for it’, and ‘Cursed, son of a cursed one, is he who eats food and deceives him who shared it with him’. Host and guest in particular are tied in a relationship governed by this conditional curse.

When the meal is finished, guests leave the table to go through the hand-washing ceremony again and to partake of coffee or tea.

Similar rules to these are added to Western manners in homes where Western habits of eating have been adopted. Actions and words reveal an attachment to ancient tradition. At buffet dinner parties in our house, for example, the guests stood far away from the table and had to be urged and pressed to eat. Although the mechanics of the European table, the knife and fork, and the table napkin, had been adopted, the old, Middle Eastern manners and rules of bienséance remained.

To those of the Middle East who might misunderstand my motives and feel offended, as I believe some will, by my description of ‘table manners’, I would like to say that the manner of eating with the fingers is most delicate and at least as refined as any belonging to the culture of the West, and I have only respect for the elegance of these rules of savoir-vivre.

In her beautiful 'Three Centuries' Emine Foat Tugay describes the customary hospitality of the aristocratic Ottoman families in the early part of this century, especially during the month of Ramadan, when gates and house doors would be opened to the public:

"An Imam and a muezzin were engaged for the whole month at our house, and the latter would chant the call to evening prayer from the top of the stairs leading into the garden. Prayer-rugs facing south-east towards Mecca had been spread in the main hall for the men, and the drawing-rooms were similarly prepared for the women. As soon as a cannon boomed, announcing that the sun had set, the fast was broken with olives and bread, prior to the short evening prayer. The household, with its resident guests and any strangers who had come in, then sat down at different tables to iftar, as the first meal after the fast is called. The men were all served in the selamlik, whether they were known to my father or not. He dined separately with his guests, but the food was the same for all. Strange women did not often come to iftar, nevertheless a table was always ready for the Allah misafiri, the guests of God. Special dishes were served at iftar. Black and green olives, several kinds of sliced cheese, a variety of jams, very thin slices of a sausage made of mutton, and the dried meat of mutton or turkey, the two last-named being the only foods flavoured with garlic which were ever eaten in the konaks, had been placed, each one separately, in tiny dishes before each plate. Goblets containing sherbet always stood beside the glasses for water. The meal invariably began with soup, followed by eggs cooked either with cheese or meat, sausage, or dried meat, and usually ended after a large number of courses with the serving of güllaj, a sweet made from thin wafers of starch. Two hours after sunset, the muezzin again chanted his call to the last prayer of the day, the Yatsi Namaz. During Ramazan only, another prayer, the Teravi Namaz, immediately follows the yatsi, both together lasting over an hour. My father, with his sons and household and those of his guests who wished to participate, never missed any of these prayers. I used to pray with the other women in the drawing-room, where screens placed in front of the wide-open double doors enabled them to hear the recitations without being seen. Those who fast are permitted two meals only, the sahur, an hour before sunrise, and the iftar at sunset. During the interval nothing may pass down the throat, even smoking being prohibited, since smoke can be swallowed. The iftars which I have known, generous and ample as they were, would have seemed paltry in comparison with some of the gargantuan meals of former times. The following anecdote, related by Colonel Aziz Bey in my hearing, will give some idea of an iftar in those days.

During Sultan Mahmud II’s reign, at the beginning of the nineteenth century, the Sheyh-ul-Islam, Meki Efendi, was famed for the excellence of his table. The Sultan, hearing of this, decided to put to the test the Sheyh’s reputation of being both a generous host and himself a gourmet of superb excellence. Unannounced, he arrived one evening in Ramazan, with a retinue of forty, to partake of the iftar at Meki Efendi’s yali. The Sheyh-ul-Islam was quietly sitting in his room beside a window which looked out on the Bosphorus, reading the Qur’an. When his servants informed him of the Sultan’s arrival, he closed the holy book, kissed and lifted it to his forehead, then placed it on a high shelf. Turning to his servants he said: ‘Have the iftar served in the selamlik, and the sahur in the harem to the family.’ He then went down to meet his unexpected guests. The food was so abundant that, after justice had been done to each superlative dish, all were more than satisfied. After the sweetmeats had been served, cut-glass bowls containing stewed sour cherries (vishne) were set down to refresh jaded palates. The Sultan, astonished that the bowls all began to drip and dissolve, wanted to know why this was happening. Meki Efendi humbly explained that the bowls were made of ice, which had been specially preserved in pits and was every day carved and adorned with intricate patterns by specialized craftsmen. The Sultan laughed and had to admit that even his own table could not boast of such luxury as this.

On a much smaller scale our own table, in readiness for any uninvited guests, was laid for sixteen every day. Without counting my father, who only lunched at home on Fridays, we were already six, my mother, three children, and two governesses. Poor Halil (then in an invalid chair for his tubercular back) ate separately. The ladies who dropped in to lunch usually brought their own children. Hala Hanim, for instance, never came without her daughter and two granddaughters. There were rarely empty seats at table. Simultaneously with ours, a second table presided over by the bacis was laid in another room for such guests as might be considered to be ‘below the salt’. They were served by younger girls. At our table the three specially trained sofracisfn3 were reinforced by at least as many other maids. The enormous platters of food were handed round once (there were no second helping) and then passed to an under-maid who waited outside the dining-room, to be taken to the bacis’ table. Food was so abundant that when we had finished the dishes were still more than half-full. The staff had their meals, cooked specially for them, in the servants’ hall in the basement. For each meal the cooks prepared food for twenty-five at the master’s table and for forty indoor and outdoor servants; these had only five courses. They began with either soup, eggs, or a pastry stuffed with cheese, had a meat course, a vegetable dish served separately, the inevitable pilav made of rice, and lastly either a sweet or fruit.

Our ‘frugal’ meals of six courses, which had so shocked my mother’s family, always began with either fish, eggs, or börek, a dish comprising various kinds of pastry stuffed with cheese and herbs, or spiced minced meat. Then came meat or fowl with potatoes and salad, two vegetable courses, the first eaten cold and cooked in oil, the second in butter and served hot, pilav, each day a different kind, and either a milk pudding or pastry soaked in syrup. Fruit always finished off the meal. Coffee was served in the drawing-room or in summer in the entrance hall, which was delightfully cool.

Everyone publicly washed their hands before and after each meal, either in a passage beside the dining-room, which was lined with marble basins and taps, or inside, where the maids offered silver ewers and basins to the senior guests. In my mother’s youth one maid had held the basin, a second poured water, and a third offered the towel. She had simplified the process; the same maid held the basin in her left hand and poured out with her right. If the guest was important enough, we children deferentially handed the towels instead of this office being performed by a servant.

Shams-Eddin Mohamet Hafiz was one of the greatest poets of Persia. He was widely respected by all Persians, and lived in his native Shiraz during the fourteenth century A.D.

On a visit to nearby Isfahan he was the house guest of Ali Agha Isfahani, the most prominent merchant of Isfahan. Elated by this great honour bestowed on him Ali Agha instructed his wife that nothing but the best of food be prepared by her chefs during the Hafiz visit and only the most prominent guests should be invited to the banquets performed almost every night during this visit.

Needless to say that various dishes were prepared and they were all one better than the other. So during the first banquet while Hafiz really enjoyed the meal he ended up by shaking his head and saying how much he missed the banquets and parties of Shiraz. This led Ali Agha to believe that his wife was not making enough effort to please the palate of the great Poet and requested her to double the amount of food and the variety for the next evening. But again after enjoying the meal Hafiz shook his head and passed the same remarks about the parties of Shiraz. And this went on for several nights afterwards. While Ali Agha’s household were doubling and tripling the amount of food their eminent guest was passing the same remarks. At last Ali Agha was on the point of bursting and he took his courage into his hands and asked Hafiz as to where they were lacking to please him. Hafiz replied, ‘You are not displeasing me. On the contrary you are almost embarrassing me by offering and wasting so much food every evening. And how can I stay at your home as long as I desire while this goes on?’ That taught Ali Agha the art of preparing the adequate food for each occasion.

Muslim Dietary Laws

A note on Muslim dietary laws is relevant in a book of food which has been influenced by them.

The religion of Islam is the most important part of Middle Eastern culture and the main foundation of the customs and traditions of the region. The code of religion is derived mainly from the Quran, which serves the faithful as a model and rule of life in every particular.

The Quran consists of a collection of the revelations or commands which the Prophet Muhammad received through the Angel Gabriel as messages from God, and which he delivered to those about him, on Divine direction. As Muhammad received the messages in moments of Divine inspiration he recited them to those of his Companions, or followers, who were with him, and who wrote them down on any object available, such as a stone or a piece of cloth.

These fragments were copied and preserved after the Prophet’s death, to be complied and collected later by a certain Zayd b. Thabit. The Suras, or chapters, were not arranged in chronological order and are out of their original context. Without the certainty of the occasion and period at which they were revealed, it is possible to interpret them in different ways. To appreciate them, one should be aware of the social environment of the time, and of the influence of the customs and superstitions of previous centuries.

Muhammad mentioned food many times throughout the Quran, and insisted particularly on its beneficial character as a gift from God. He repeated injunctions about kinds of food permitted and not permitted.

"So eat of what God had given you, lawful or good, and give thanks for God’s favour if Him it is you serve.

Say I find not in that which is revealed to me aught forbidden for an eater to eat thereof, except that it be what dies of itself, or blood poured forth, or flesh of swine – for that surely is unclean – or what is a transgression other than (the name of) God having been invoked in it. But whoever is driven to necessity, not desiring nor exceeding the limit, then surely thy Lord is Forgiving, Merciful".

In actual fact, the following are forbidden:
1. animals dead before they are slaughtered, or those killed for reasons other than that of food;
2. blood;
3. pig’s flesh;
4. animals slaughtered as an offering to a pagan deity or in the name of the deity;
5. alcoholic or fermented liquids, and all inebriating liquors, although they were favoured at first. They are forbidden in cooking, too.

An animal that is killed for the food of man must be slaughtered in a particular manner: the person who is about to do it must say: ‘In the name of God, God is most great!’ and then cut its throat.

These dietary laws are observed in varying degrees of laxity throughout the Muslim world. It is very uncommon for people to eat pork. Some Muslims drink wine, liqueurs and other types of alcohol, and some use them in their food. This is quite common practice today in Turkey, but generally, cooking with wine and alcohol is more an individual and personal preference, rather than a national or traditional characteristic.

Written by Claudia Roden in "A New Book of Middle Eastern Food", Penguin Books, UK, 1985, excerpts Introduction. Digitized, adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.