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Feast

Anissa Helou


  The baby camel arrived alive in the back of a van, sitting quite placidly with his legs folded and tied so that he could not move. A group of immaculate-looking butchers arrived, sporting long white plastic aprons and wellington boots and carrying their knives in white plastic sheaths hanging from one hip with the sharpener hanging on the other. The camel must have realized his fate, because he began braying as soon as the van backed onto the ramp. The men in white dragged him off the van and untied his legs so they could walk him to the killing chamber.

  Once they had seated the baby camel in the middle of the chamber, one of the men opened the mouth of the camel and showered it with water. The animal did not resist, nor did it resist when one of the butchers said “Allah Akbar” and slit its throat. After letting the body relax a little, they proceeded to first skin, then butcher it, and finally I could claim my very own camel hump.

  I thanked the butchers and carried my prize home to my brother’s house. There, I massaged it with saffron, rose water, and b’zar before roasting it. I followed the same principles as the caterer in Al-Ayn, putting the oven on high and cooking the hump for 2 hours, covering it part of the time with foil so that the top wouldn’t burn. The hump looked gorgeous as it came out of the oven, crisp and golden. Both the fat and meat were scrumptious—the baby camel must have been milk-fed. The meat was pale and tender and the fat very soft and not at all fatty if you get my meaning. Some fats coat the tongue in an unpleasant manner but not this one. It was almost the same as lamb’s tail fat, which in Lebanon we eat raw with raw liver. Apparently, people also eat the fat from the hump raw. I will have to try it next time around.

  Finally, I’d secured the prize that had eluded me for so long. When you want the good stuff, sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands. And now that I’d broken through the camel-cooking barrier, I would be planning a baby camel feast on my brother’s terrace, overlooking the Arabian Gulf. I would serve the whole animal, with the hump as the centerpiece, and there would be no one to tell me to go to the women’s quarters. To be honest, I never did manage the camel feast because I have not been back to Dubai since, but my advice to you, now that camel milk is in vogue, is to look for a camel farm or a supplier of camel meat (there are a few) and see if they can supply you with the hump, still on the bone as the meaty parts are the two fillets nestled between the rib cage and the spine. And if you manage to get one, follow the recipe for Baby Goat Roast to roast your camel hump.

  Saudi Camel Meatballs

  KABAB EL MIRO

  SAUDI ARABIA

  The first time I tasted camel was some twenty-five years ago in Damascus, Syria. A friendly taxi driver had driven me to Midan (a working-class neighborhood that sadly has been decimated by the regime as they tried to clear it of rebels) because I had told him I was researching street food. As I walked down the main street—full of street vendors selling all kinds of scrumptious specialties—I came face-to-face with a hairy camel’s head. Hanging by its fleshy lips outside a butcher shop, the head was the butcher’s rather gruesome shop sign indicating he specialized in camel meat. Like most butchers in Damascus, he had a charcoal grill on which he cooked meat to order for patrons to take away or to eat at a rickety table set to one side of his store. I had never tried camel and I didn’t want to pass up the chance, despite the stall’s noticeable lack of hygiene. I sat down and asked the butcher to grill me some meat. He suggested I have it ground rather than cubed as it would be too tough otherwise. It was not a gastronomic marvel. The meat was dry with a slightly gamey taste, but I was excited to have tried it. In this recipe, which also uses ground meat, the meatballs are made more interesting by adding millet grains, which provide a nice crunch, and the dipping sauces temper the dryness of the meat. If you can’t get camel meat, simply use lamb or beef, or a mixture of both.

  SERVES 6 TO 8

  FOR THE TAHINI DIP

  ½ cup plus 2 tablespoons (150 ml) tahini

  Juice of 1½ lemons, or to taste

  1 clove garlic, minced to a fine paste

  Sea salt

  FOR THE TAMARIND DIP

  1 cup (200 g) seedless tamarind paste

  ½ teaspoon ground coriander

  ½ teaspoon finely ground black pepper

  A few sprigs cilantro, most of the bottom stems discarded, finely chopped

  Sea salt

  FOR THE MEATBALLS

  1 pound 2 ounces (500 g) ground lean camel (or lamb) meat

  Scant 1 cup (150 g) uncooked millet

  6 cloves garlic, minced to a fine paste

  1 teaspoon ground coriander

  ½ teaspoon finely ground black pepper

  Sea salt

  Sunflower oil, for deep-frying

  1. To make the tahini dip: Put the tahini in a bowl and, alternating them, gradually add the lemon juice and ⅓ cup plus 1 tablespoon (100 ml) water, stirring all the time. The tahini will thicken at first even though you are adding liquid, but do not worry; it will soon thin out again. Taste the dip before you use up all the lemon juice to adjust the tartness to your liking. If you decide to use less lemon juice, add a little more water to make up for the lost liquid. Stir until the sauce has the consistency of sour cream. Add the garlic and salt to taste. Mix well.

  2. To make the tamarind dip: Put the tamarind paste in a bowl. Add 1⅓ cups (325 ml) hot water and let steep for 15 minutes, then mash the pulp in the water. Line a fine-mesh sieve with cheesecloth and set over a bowl. Strain the tamarind mixture in the sieve, pressing on the pulp to extract as much tamarind as you can. Add the coriander, pepper, and cilantro. Season with salt to taste and mix well.

  3. To make the meatballs: Combine the meat, millet, garlic, coriander, pepper, and salt to taste and mix well. Shape the meat into small balls, each the size of a walnut, and place on a baking sheet. Refrigerate for 15 minutes while you heat the oil.

  4. Set a fine-mesh rack in a rimmed baking sheet or line the baking sheet with several layers of paper towel. Pour 2 inches (5 cm) sunflower oil into a large deep skillet. Heat over medium heat to 350°F (180°C). If you don’t have a thermometer, test by dropping a piece of bread into the oil—if the oil immediately bubbles around it, it is ready. Drop in as many meatballs as will fit comfortably in the pan. Fry, stirring the meatballs every now and then, until the millet is golden and the meatballs are cooked through, 3 to 5 minutes. Drain on the wire rack or the paper towels. Serve with the tahini dip and the tamarind dip.

  Moroccan Mechoui

  MECHOUI

  MOROCCO

  Mechoui in Arabic means “grilled,” but in Morocco it means a whole lamb, roasted in a pit oven with twenty or more other lambs, each trussed to a pole and the poles arranged all around the oven leaning against its walls, until the meat is so tender you can pull it off the bone with your hand without the help of any cutlery. You will find mechoui stalls in the Medina of Marrakesh and by the slaughterhouse in Casablanca, as well as in the weekly souks. Each will have one large, round clay pit oven where the mechoui vendor can bake up to twenty-five whole lambs in one go. Once done the roast lambs are taken out, one at a time, and placed on a large counter onto the street where people gather to buy their chosen cuts, which they carry off wrapped in paper to eat on the go or in a nearby café with mint tea. The meat is not seasoned when it is roasted and it is eaten dipped in a 50/50 mixture of salt and cumin. Often they will take the meat home for an impromptu meal. When you are offered mechoui in someone’s home, it will usually be a quarter of the lamb as they can roast only quarters (usually the shoulder, ribs, and neck) in their home ovens. You can do the same or simply roast a shoulder as I suggest here.

  SERVES 4

  1 lamb shoulder on the bone (4½ pounds/2 kg)

  3½ tablespoons (50 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature

  Sea salt

  Ground cumin

  1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C).

  2. Rub the lamb all over with the softened butter and place on a rack in a roasting pan. Roas
t for 2 hours to 2 hours 30 minutes, basting the meat every 15 minutes with a little water, until the meat is very tender and the skin is crisp and completely browned.

  3. Let the lamb sit for about 20 minutes before serving. Serve with a mixture of salt and cumin in a 1:1 ratio.

  Moroccan Meat Kebabs

  QOTBANE L’HAM

  MOROCCO

  Kebabs are a constant throughout the Muslim world. From satay to kefta to koobideh to galawat kebabs to firin kebabs, there isn’t a Muslim country that doesn’t offer an amazing array of kebabs, either grilled over charcoal or seared in huge metal pans over wood fires or roasted in large copper baking dishes in wood-fired ovens. The marinades and seasonings, as well as the size of the kebabs, vary from country to country. In Lebanon and Syria, the meat is diced into medium chunks and marinated in a mixture of minced garlic, lemon juice, olive oil, and fairly mild spices whereas in Morocco, the meat is cut small and marinated in a dry mixture of onion, fresh herbs, and spices. In Indonesia, the meat for satay is often left fairly plain with the flavor supplied by the accompanying sauce whereas in Uighur country, it is all about coating the pieces of meat in a mixture of egg and potato starch, for a crisp outside, and seasoning the meat as it grills with cumin and chili. The recipe below is for Moroccan lamb kebab. You can use beef if you want, but choose a tender cut such as filet, sirloin, or rib eye. Even if Moroccans dice their meat very small, I like my grilled meat on the rare side so I am suggesting here to cut the meat in slightly bigger chunks. Serve with a small bowl of salt and cumin (in a 1:1 ratio), Moroccan Bread, and Mint Tea.

  SERVES 4 TO 6

  2¼ pounds (1 kg) tender boneless lamb, cut into into 1-inch (2.5 cm) cubes

  1 medium onion (5 ounces/150 g), halved and cut into thin wedges

  A few sprigs flat-leaf parsley, most of the bottom stems discarded, finely chopped

  1 teaspoon ground cumin

  ½ teaspoon paprika

  1 teaspoon finely ground black pepper

  Sea salt

  1. Put the cubed meat in a bowl. Add the onion, parsley, cumin, paprika, and pepper. Season with salt to taste (see Note) and mix well. Let marinate in a cool place or the refrigerator for at least 2 hours.

  2. Start a charcoal fire in an outdoor grill or preheat the broiler to high.

  3. Thread the meat onto 8 or 12 long skewers depending on how many you want to serve. Cook on the grill or under the broiler for 2 to 3 minutes on each side, or until the meat is done to your liking. Serve hot.

  Turkish Kebabs

  SHISH KEBABI

  TURKEY

  Grilled meats or kebabs are a mainstay of the Muslim world, from Turkey to Iran to India and Pakistan to Muslim China to Indonesia (where kebabs are known as satay), and each country has its own way of preparing the meat or fish and marinating it for grilling. One of the earliest references to kebabs is found in an eleventh-century Turkish dictionary, which describes men as having “competed against each other in skewering meat.” It was the Turks who disseminated kebabs all over the Middle East and North Africa during the Ottoman Empire. The recipe below is for classic Turkish meat kebabs, with a marinade that includes tomato paste and a mix of spices for an intense flavor.

  SERVES 4

  FOR THE MARINADE

  3 cloves garlic, minced to a fine paste

  3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

  1 tablespoon tomato paste

  ½ teaspoon paprika

  ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper

  ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon

  ¼ teaspoon ground cumin

  2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves

  Sea salt and finely ground black pepper

  FOR THE KEBABS

  1¾ pounds (800 g) boneless lamb leg, trimmed of most of the fat and cut into 1-inch (2.5 cm) chunks

  24 cherry tomatoes

  Flatbread, for serving

  1. To make the marinade: Mix together the garlic, olive oil, tomato paste, spices, thyme, and salt and pepper to taste.

  2. To prepare the kebabs: Add the meat to the marinade and toss. Let marinate for at least 2 hours.

  3. Prepare a charcoal fire in an outdoor grill, switch on the gas if you have an outdoor gas grill, or preheat the broiler to high.

  4. Thread the meat onto 7 long skewers and the tomatoes onto an eighth one. Grill over high heat or broil for 3 to 4 minutes on each side, or until the meat and tomatoes are done to your liking. Slip the meat and tomatoes off the skewers onto flatbread and serve immediately.

  Lebanese Kebabs

  LAHM MESHWI

  LEBANON

  Sunday is grilling day in Lebanon. Whether in the city or in the countryside, people will take out their manqal (a low grill made of a rectangular metal box set on short legs) to put on their balcony, in the garden, in the courtyard, or simply outside their front door and make a charcoal fire for their grilled meat, chicken, or even fish if they live near the sea. My grandmother lived in Beirut, and every Sunday she would take her manqal out onto the balcony where my uncles built the fire while she was in the kitchen seasoning whatever was going on the grill that day. In high summer and autumn, it would often be little birds, which my uncles would have shot in the mountains that morning—during bird season, they often woke up very early to drive outside of the city to shoot the little birds known as becfigues in French because they feed on figs. People are forbidden from shooting them in the West, but the Lebanese still happily feast on these little birds when in season. And I have to admit to forgetting my principles when I am back home during this season and joining in the feasting. My grandmother also grilled fish that used to be brought to her doorstep by door-to-door fishmongers. However, both birds and fish were reserved for special days and, more often than not, she would have chicken wings, other pieces of chicken, or simply the kebabs in this recipe on the grill. The same marinade can be used for both chicken wings and boneless chicken. The kebabs made with chicken are called shish tawuk, and the wings jawaneh.

  SERVES 4 TO 6

  FOR THE MARINADE

  5 cloves garlic, minced to a fine paste

  2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

  Juice of 1 lemon, or to taste

  1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper, or to taste

  ½ teaspoon ground allspice

  ½ teaspoon Lebanese 7-Spice Mixture

  ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon

  Sea salt and finely ground black pepper

  FOR THE KEBABS

  1¾ pounds (800 g) boneless lamb leg, trimmed of most of the fat and cut into 1-inch (2.5 cm) chunks

  16 baby onions, peeled

  Flatbread, for serving

  1. To make the marinade: Mix together the garlic, olive oil, lemon juice, spices, and salt and black pepper to taste.

  2. To prepare the kebabs: Add the meat to the marinade and mix it well. Let marinate for at least a couple of hours, or longer if you can.

  3. Prepare a charcoal fire in an outdoor grill or preheat the broiler to high.

  4. Thread the meat onto 8 skewers, inserting a baby onion in between every two or three pieces of meat. Grill over high heat or broil for 3 to 4 minutes on each side, or until the meat and onions are done to your liking. Serve very hot wrapped in flatbread.

  Lebanese Kafta

  KAFTA

  LEBANON

  When I lived in Beirut, I often went with my mother to the butcher’s. As a child, I had a morbid fascination with severed sheep’s heads, carcasses, and knives. I was fascinated by how our butcher would wield his knife, slicing meat off carcasses, then chopping it by hand before chopping herbs and onions and adding it to the chopped meat to make kefta. In those days, even though my mother pounded her own meat for kibbeh in a mortar with a heavy wooden pestle, she asked the butcher to make the kefta; but she insisted on being there to watch the whole process to make sure the butcher was giving her the meat she wanted and not another cheaper cut. I would stand next to her, mesmerized by the butcher’s dexterity with his very large and very sharp knife.
I make my kefta at home, grinding the meat in a meat grinder and chopping the parsley and onion in a food processor. If you don’t have a meat grinder, I suggest you do as my mother did and buy the cut you want from your butcher (either shoulder or leg), then ask him to grind it for you. This way you will make sure you have the best-quality ground meat—store-bought preground meat is too fatty and often made from off-cuts. Serve on a bed of Onion and Parsley Salad and with flatbread.

  SERVES 4

  2 medium onions (7 ounces/200 g total), quartered

  1 ounce (30 g) fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves

  1 pound 2 ounces (500 g) ground lamb, from the shoulder

  ½ teaspoon ground allspice

  ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

  ¼ teaspoon Lebanese 7-Spice Mixture

  Sea salt and finely ground black pepper

  1. Put the onions and parsley in a food processor and process until finely chopped. Transfer to a bowl. Add the ground meat, spices, and salt and pepper to taste and mix well with your hands. Pinch a little off and sear in a hot pan. Taste and adjust the seasoning if necessary. Divide the meat into 12 equal portions.

  2. Prepare a charcoal fire in an outdoor grill or preheat the broiler to high.

  3. Roll each portion of meat into a ball. Put one in the palm of your hand, take a long, flat skewer—the meat will hold better on a flat one—and start wrapping the meat around the skewer, squeezing it upward, then downward to bind it to the skewer in the shape of a long flat sausage. Taper the ends and place on a rack ready to grill or broil. Shape the rest of the meat on the remaining skewers the same way.

  4. Grill or broil the meat for 2 to 3 minutes on each side, or until it is done to your liking. Serve hot.