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  • Weekend: Space: Food:

    Weekend: Space: Food: SWEET TEMPTATION: Trays of sticky Middle Eastern
    pastries will not only infuse your kitchen with the sweet aromas of
    the Levant, but they will also offer an exotic alternative to the
    usual Easter parade of cakes and chocolate, says NAYLA AUDI

    The Guardian - United Kingdom

    Apr 03, 2004 NAYLA AUDI


    I've always been in the enviable position of coming from two religions
    - at least, when it came to the delicious world of Lebanese sweets. As
    a child, I longed for the Muslim Eid (festivities) to begin. I'd wait
    impatiently for my paternal grandparents to bring two huge, flat trays
    from the sweet shop. One tray would be filled with a dizzying array of
    baklava, all drenched with sticky syrup made from sugar, water and
    orange blossom, and sweets cooked with a heavy ashta (clotted)
    cream. The other would hold several kilos of maamoul - traditional
    semolina-based pastries - all of them individually wrapped. The
    baklavas would be reserved for the family, but the dozens of maamoul
    were duly handed out, along with a steaming cup of Arabic coffee, to
    the many visitors who would come over the Eid to wish us good
    fortune. (According to Lebanese tradition, guests should be served a
    meal before the maamoul are passed around, but these days they only
    get the biscuits.)

    Our guests would either eat the maamoul there and then, or take some
    home. Either way, I'd always manage to hide a few of these delicious
    little pastries for myself, and would later munch them in my room,
    savouring the crumbling, shortbread-style pastry filled with either
    crushed walnuts, almonds and pistachios or crushed dates, and then
    covered with powdered sugar.

    No sooner is the Eid over than the Christian festival of Easter
    begins. As tradition dictates, women in my mother's family gathered a
    few days earlier and began the ritual of making the Christian version
    of maamoul. These are similar to the Muslim kind, just smaller. Once
    the semolina and butter was mixed, my strict Armenian Orthodox
    grandmother would then pass the dough through incense, to "purify it
    against the evil spirits". The dough was then shaped - either with
    old-fashioned wooden moulds or by hand - and stuffed with crushed
    dates or nuts. The walnut, almond and pistachio-stuffed maamoul were
    formed into oval, egg-like shapes; the date variety were more circular
    and doughnut-like. The shape was important: the round maamoul
    signified the crown worn by Jesus as he was led to be crucified, while
    the egg-shaped one symbolised the sponge he was given to quench his
    thirst. Each woman would then be handed a small pair of tweezers and,
    with meticulous care, we'd pinch the surface of the maamoul, the
    resulting effect symbolising the thorns on Jesus's crown. The dozens
    of maamoul were stored away and taken out to offer to well-wishers.

    Unlike the Muslim version, however, the Christian maamoul are not
    wrapped. They are eaten on Easter day itself - as a way to break the
    40-day Lent. Real eastern Christian fasting requires abstention from
    animal products, including butter, eggs and milk, so the maamoul
    pastry made with butter was a perfect way to break the fast. Modern
    women, however, see Lent as a way to abstain from sweets altogether
    (as a great weight-loss technique) and use the maamoul to ease
    themselves back into the world of desserts.

    Today, such traditions remain relatively unchanged. As Easter
    approaches, the main question among Christian women is still, "Have
    you made the maamoul yet?" (I must add that sampling each other's work
    , and seeing whose are best, is a great source of gossip.) Sweet shops
    do a roaring trade to those who didn't perform the Easter ritual.

    Lebanese sweets have earned a distinct reputation worldwide. One
    well-known Beirut pastry shop, Bohsali, receives emails from all over
    the globe asking for its sweets to be shipped over to ex-pats and
    non-Lebanese alike (abohsali.com.lb). It was the same Bohsali family
    who, in the middle of the 19th century, first "Lebanised" Turkish and
    Greek sweets. Back then, they had a little shop near the port, and the
    owner, Salim, came across baklava in shipments from Turkey and
    Greece. The sweets were a big hit among Beirutis and, in time, Salim
    learned to make his own. Soon, he and his son had expanded their
    repertoire, and the store's reputation began to spread. (In 1914,
    while Lebanon was still under Ottoman rule, it was officially
    appointed supplier to the king.) The sweets began to grab the
    attention of the Lebanese bourgeoisie, who had until then ordered
    their baked goods from swinging Cairo, thus establishing Lebanese
    sweets as a favourite delicacy.

    Last December, the Bohsalis won first prize at the Academie Lebanese
    de la Gastronomie (a branch of the international Academie de la
    Gastronomie). Today, there are dozens of Lebanese sweet shops
    throughout the country and their pastries are distributed worldwide.

    Another Lebanese sweet offered regularly is ghoraybeh, an off-white,
    crumbly biscuit made with butter and flour. Whether bought in or
    homemade, the pastry can either be large or small - the small ones are
    only slightly bigger than a nut. Again, it was the Bohsali family who
    were behind both the size and initial popularity of ghoraybeh.

    Whichever sweet is offered, however, no visit to a Lebanese home is
    complete without a cup of hot Arabic coffee. It's usually made in a
    special kettle, or raghweh, which you can buy in most Middle Eastern
    shops.

    Ghoraybeh

    Makes 40 biscuits.

    200g butter or lard

    100g icing sugar

    300g fine semolina

    100g shelled pistachio nuts

    Work the butter until soft, ideally by hand. Blend in the sugar, then
    add the semolina making sure you get a homogenous mixture. Shape the
    dough into small round biscuits or into half-moons, sticking the edges
    together. Decorate each biscuit with a pistachio nut.

    Bake at medium heat (180C/350F/ gas mark 4) for 10 to 15 minutes. The
    biscuits should not be allowed to brown - a proper ghoraybeh retains
    the initial off-white colour of the dough.

    Maamoul

    Traditionally, these pastries are filled with a mixture of almond,
    pistachio and walnut or with dates. These days, orange blossom water
    and rosewater are sold as a matter of course in most major
    supermarkets; failing that, try a Middle Eastern store or
    delicatessen. These quantities are enough to make 80 pastries - that
    may sound a lot, but once you've tried one, you'll get through them in
    no time at all.

    For the pastry

    500g butter, melted

    1kg fine semolina

    250ml rosewater

    250ml orange blossom water

    Pour the melted butter over the semolina, mix well, cover, and leave
    the mixture at room temperature overnight. The next day, add the
    rosewater and the orange water and blend well. The resulting dough is
    the basis for the biscuits.

    Now make the stuffing of your choice:

    Almond, pistachio and walnut stuffing

    200g crushed almond, pistachio and walnut

    2 tbsp sugar

    1 tbsp orange blossom water

    1 tbsp rosewater

    Combine the ingredients in a bowl, then stuff the mixture into the
    prepared dough either by hand, or with a traditional wooden maamoul
    mould. Shape into round or oval biscuits. Bake on medium heat for 10
    to 15 minutes.

    Crushed date stuffing

    200g crushed dates (called tamer, sold ready-crushed in Middle Eastern
    stores )

    50g butter

    1 tbsp orange blossom water

    1 tbsp rosewater

    Mix the dates, butter, orange blossom water and rosewater, then stuff
    and bake as with the nut stuffing above.

    Lebanese coffee

    You can find this in Middle Eastern stores where it is sold plain or
    flavoured with cardamom. Use a small kettle, or buy a raghweh. Use
    small coffee cups, one of which should be used to measure out the
    correct amount of water. Makes four cups.

    6 coffee cups water

    7 full tsp Lebanese coffee


    6 tsp sugar (optional)

    Place the ingredients in a small kettle or pan, then bring to a boil
    and take off the heat. Bring the resulting liquid to the boil a
    further two times, then begin by transferring the coffee-infused foam
    from the top of the pot in to each of the cups. Now pour in the
    coffee, leave for several moments, in order to allow the grounds to
    settle, and serve piping hot
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