It's Soup Time!

Kubbat Hamud Shalgham

كبة حامض شلغم

Stuffed Rice Dough
Simmered in Cream of Turnip and Swiss Chard Soup

This is the mother of all kubbas. I am using the expression in the medieval sense, which is ‘the best of.’ I imagine that had 10th-century al-Warraq, author of Kitab al-Tabeekh (كتاب الطبيخ), known this dish, he would have called it ‘um al-kubab.’ Actually, one of the recipes in his book came that close to creating such a dish. In a shaljamiyya recipe (white stew with turnips), turnips were cooked in white sauce thickened with crushed chickpeas, ground almonds, milk, and rice. The lean meat was pounded into a paste with spices, formed into kubab ‘meatballs’, and thrown into the simmering stew (Chapter 54).

This kubba is different from kubbat Halab in that dough is made from ground uncooked rice, pounded with meat. There is only one way to serve it and that is as kubbat hamuḍ shalgham. After shaping the kubba, it is simmered in delicious turnip and Swiss chard soup. The soup in this case is served as a main dish

Kubbat hamuḍ shalgham is everybody's favorite. As children, we had to beg our mothers to make it, since it wasn't an easy thing to do-- what with all the pounding and grinding needed. It was definitely not the kind of food to be cooked as often as we would have desired. However, in the age of food processors, making it is no big deal. Nowadays, rice flour can be purchased ready-made, and dough can be pulsed in the food processor in a few minutes. This might explain why in the Arab countries, a food processor is called sit il-bet (lady of the house).

In Iraq, this dish is a winter treat since turnips and Swiss chard are available in that season only. Still, some people do make it in the summer, using summer squash and mint. Incidentally, al-Warraq, in the same turnip stew recipe I mentioned above, also gave gourd (qar') as a substitute when turnip was not in season. The traditional Jewish Iraqi version of this dish is prepared with beets instead of turnips, which is also a very ancient vegetable used in stews as shown in one of the Babylonian recipes.   

    Both turnips and chard have been used in cooking in the region ever since antiquity. In one of the Babylonian stews, turnips were the principal ingredient. In Akkadian, it was called ‘laptu,’ from which the Arabic lift was derived (its other name saljam/shaljam/shalgham is a Persian loan word). During the medieval times, turnips were made into delicious white stews, sometimes adorned with spicy meatballs, as mentioned above.

A turnip, Kitab al-Diryaq 

Turnip, a winter vegetable in Iraq, is believed to have the power to relieve cold symptoms. The sight of vendors selling turnips simmered in water and date syrup is quite common in wintertime. The aroma emitting from those steaming huge pots of turnips is unforgettable. 

Sketch is by Iraqi artist Suad Salim, see my post on Recipes from Baghdad 

Chard, Dioscorides, Fi Hayula al-Tibb, translation by Hunayn b. Ishaq

Like turnips, chard is an ancient vegetable. Its Arabic name silq was derived from the Akkadian ‘silki.’ Also like turnips, it was valued as an effective cure for cold-related ailments. In the opinion of the medieval Arab physicians and botanists, it was also believed to increase blood and semen, and was said to work as an aphrodisiac and euphoriant. 

Hamuḍ Shalgham: What’s in a Name?

ما معنى حامض شلغم؟ 

The Iraqi name for this soup hamudh shalgham literally translates to ‘sour turnips,’ and to make it sour we add lemon juice or tamarind. It turned out, hamud shalgham, after all, is what it means -- soured turnips:

Originally, fermented soured turnips and their liquid were added to stews and soups for sourness and flavor. I discovered this while reading an entry on turnips in 10^th-century Al-Filaha al-Nabatiyya (farming practices of the Nabateans/indigenous Iraqis) by Ibn Wahshiyya, a Chaldean himself, who in his introduction to the book claimed that it was an Arabic translation of ancient Babylonian sources dealing with their advanced knowledge on farming, originally written in Suryaniyya qadeema (Syriac). His comments on turnips included a recipe for ma’ al-saljam al-hamidh (sour turnip juice). The recipe uses peeled and diced turnips, turnip juice, and baked sour bread. While the bread is still hot, it is whipped into the turnip mix until it dissolves completely, with the addition of herbs like rue, mint, and parsley. The mix is left to ferment until it matures and sours. Ibn Wahshiyya says it is eaten with bread and its juice is made into a digestive drink. He also says the sour turnip juice is used in meat dishes to make the sauce deliciously sour.

So we make the soup, call it hamud shalgham, and we are completely oblivious to the long history of the indigenous ancient culinary practices involved in making it. 

For the Love of Kubba

Sketch by Iraqi artist Suad Salim, see my post on Recipes from Baghdad 

 وكت دك الكبّة ‘  وعّو قَرندل

وكت أكل الكبّة ‘ نايم قرندل

When it’s time for pounding kubba, “Wake up Qarandal!”

When it’s time to eat the kubba, “Let poor Qarandal sleep.” 

An Iraqi proverb said when people feel used. They would be called when their help is needed, but none would think of calling them back when the time comes to share the fruits of their deed. And what dish to choose better than the elaborate kubba? 

Here is how to make Kubbat Hamud Shalgham:

With some planning, you can enjoy this kubba fuss-free. Prepare stuffing the day before perhaps. Make the kubba dough, and start making the turnip soup. While the soup is cooking, stuff and shape the kubba into balls, and have them ready to drop into the soup pot when the time comes.

Making the kubba balls (about 16 balls):

12 ounces lean beef, ground

2 cups (12 ounces) rice flour. Or use uncooked cream of rice, which I prefer because it gives the kubba shell a nice slightly chewy texture, characteristic of this type of kubba   

1 teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon black pepper

About 4 tablespoons cold water, depending on how moist the meat is

1 recipe for the kubba filling, see my previous post on kubbat Halab

........................................

Prepare the dough: Mix ground beef, rice flour (or uncooked cream of rice), salt, and pepper together. In three batches process the mix in a food processor, adding cold water in tablespoons through the spout. A ball of dough will start forming and revolving within 2 to 3 minutes. Repeat until all is done. The final dough will be pinkish in hue, pliable, and of medium consistency. 

Make the kubba balls by taking a piece of the dough, the size of a golf ball, flatten it into a thin concave disc (a wok-like disc)-- you need to make it as thin as you possibly can to avoid ending up with tough kubba -- and put about one tablespoon of the filling in the middle. Gather the ends to close it, and roll it into a ball between the palms. Remember to handle the dough with slightly moistened fingers. It sometimes happens that while shaping the dough tears at places, especially when you are trying to make it as thin as possible. The way to fix this is to take a small piece of dough, flatten it between your fingers, slightly wet the torn area, and patch it. Put the finished pieces on a tray, in one layer. And use when the soup is ready. 

Preparing the soup:

1 medium onion, chopped

2 tablespoons oil

3 medium turnips, (about 1 pound) peeled and cut into 1 inch cubes

4 to 5 big leaves of Swiss chard (about 3 cups chopped), chopped with the stalks

1 teaspoon crushed coriander seeds

½ teaspoon turmeric

2 heaping tablespoons tomato paste, optional, if you want the soup to be red 

½ cup rice soaked in water for 30 minutes and pulsed with the water in a food processor

1½ teaspoons salt

½ teaspoon black pepper

Juice of 1 lemon (¼ cup or to taste), plus ½ teaspoon sugar

............................. 

1. In a large pot, sauté onion in oil until it starts to soften. Add the turnip pieces and fold together for about 5 minutes. Toss in the Swiss chard, and fold. Fold in coriander, turmeric, and tomato paste if used. Pour in hot water or broth to cover them by about 5 inches, and mix well. Add the pulsed rice, stir well; also add salt, black pepper, lemon juice, and sugar. Bring the pot to a boil, and then reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, covered, until turnip is tender and soup starts to slightly thicken. Stir occasionally to prevent the soup from sticking to the bottom of the pot, for about 20 minutes. 

2. Drop in the prepared balls of kubba, stir the pot carefully, and let it boil gently for 20 minutes to allow the kubba to cook.   

And enjoy this hearty delicious soup. My children nicknamed this soup, Shorbat Kuluhu, (Eat It Soup) after I told them how the prophet Muhammad recommended eating turnips to his followers saying, "Eat it, and do not tell your enemies about it." It is that good! So next time you catch a cold or something, you know what to do.

The Story of Joha and Turnips

قصة جحا والشلغم

A 17th-century miniature of Joha, whom the Ottomans called Mulla Nasreddin

Joha is a popular comic character in Islamic folkloric literature. While at times he is shrewd and funny enough to play practical jokes on people, he is also presented as a naïve person who easily becomes the butt of numerous jokes. The following is my favorite:

Once Joha went to pay homage to the Caliph, and as the custom required, he took with him a present. It was a basketful of nabq/nabug نبق, which is fruit of the lote tree (sidr tree), which are the size of small cherries. Nabq was, and still is, by common consent, a very humble fruit.     

Nabq, fruit of the lote tree 

Naturally, the Caliph was offended, and gave a command that Joha was to be stoned with every single fruit he brought with him. Every time he was hit by one, Juha would say, "Alhamdu lil-lah wal-shukr (may God be praised and thanked). The Caliph was surprised and asked for an explanation. Joha told him that he was thanking God for listening to his wife who suggested this fruit as opposed to his initial choice, turnips.

Stuffed Potato Dough

Kubbat Puteta Chap

بتيتة جاب

It is the best guise that potatoes can ever take. The stuffed fried discs are a delight to look at and to eat.

The meaning of chap in this otherwise very Iraqi modern dish eludes me. In all probability, it is a corruption of some sort of an English or Indian word which might have filtered into the dialect during the time of the British colonization.

However, the art of making kubba, of stuffing food with food, is certainly not new to the Iraqi cooks. Indeed, it can be traced all the way back the ancient times, as manifested in the Babylonians' bird pies, prepared by enclosing birds cooked in white sauce between two layers of seasoned dough. Detailed recipes for making such an ancient stuffed food are found in a Babylonian culinary tablet written in Akkadian cuneiform in 1700 BC:

Babylonian culinary tablet 8958, Yale Babylonian Collection  

 Even the term kubba itself, used to designate this kind of stuffed food, might well have originally derived from the Akkadian ‘kubbusu,’ which designates a cake (think a meat patty or a fish cake). See also my previous post on Kubbat Halab.

      

Using the New World potatoes for making kubba is a relatively new development in the art of making kubba, which is more traditionally made with bulgur and rice.    

Here is how to make it:

(Makes 18 to 20 pieces)

For the shell:
2 pounds potatoes (all-purpose will do), boiled whole and unpeeled
½ cup cornstarch (use a bit less with starchy potatoes)
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon black pepper
For the filling, see my previous post on kubbat Halab
About 1 cup breadcrumbs for coating
Oil for frying

1. Peel the boiled potatoes when cool enough to handle. Cut them into smaller pieces. Put them in a big bowl, and add cornstarch, salt, and pepper. Then mash them with a potato masher, or run them through a potato ricer. A blender or a food processor is not recommended because it will cause the potatoes to develop a gummy texture. With a moistened hand, knead mixture the way you knead pastry dough until well blended, about 5 minutes. If the mixture is too dry to form into dough (sometimes this happens when potatoes are too starchy), sprinkle it with a small amount of water. 

2. Divide dough into 18 to 20 pieces, size of a small lemon, each. With moistened hands, flatten a piece into a thin wok-like disk. Put about 2 tablespoons of the filling in the middle, gather edges, and close the piece into a ball. Flatten it into a disc by putting it between the palms of the hands and gently pressing the edges so that it is full in the middle and thinner around the edges. Always remember to handle dough with slightly moistened hands. Put finished discs in one layer on a tray or a flat dish.

3. Put breadcrumbs in a dish, and coat discs before frying. Shake off excess crumbs.

4. Put about an inch of oil in a skillet. When hot, fry discs turning once to brown on both sides, 3 to 4 minutes for each side. If they brown quickly, turn heat down a little. 

5. Put the fried discs in a large colander lined with white paper towels, and let them cool off a little before serving. Alternatively, you may spread the paper towels on a rack and put the fried discs in one layer to cool off. This way you will prevent them from getting soggy.

Serve warm with lots of salad, and bread. They also make an exciting filling for a sandwich (too much starch! But really delicious). Fill a sandwich bread (such as Italian ciabatta) with a piece or two of puteta chap along with lots of sliced salad vegetables.

Baked Puteta Chap

(Makes 18 to 20 squares)

Most of the Iraqi traditional dishes are fried, because up until the late 1950s, ovens were not available in every kitchen as they are today. Nowadays there is no reason why some of the fried dishes should not be baked. The following is a lighter version of the traditional puteta chap.

1. Use the same ingredients given above. Make dough as directed in the first step, and prepare filling as directed above.

2. Preheat oven to 380°F. Grease a 12x7x2-inch baking pan (or approximate size). Coat its bottom and sides generously with breadcrumbs. Shake off excess crumbs

3. Divide dough into 2 parts. Cover the bottom of the prepared pan with one part, and spread the filling all over it. Next, cover this filling with the other half of the dough by taking small portions, and flattening and putting them on the filling until the entire surface is covered. With wet fingers, lightly press the top layer closing any gaps on the surface. Brush with a beaten egg and sprinkle lightly with breadcrumbs. Decorate surface with a fork, if you like, and drizzle it with a little oil.

           

4. Bake it in the preheated oven for about 40 minutes, or until surface is golden brown. Let it cool for 10 minutes, and divide it into 18 to 20 squares. 

Everybody Loves Salsa

 Mustard and Vinegar Sauce

خل وخردل

The perfect salsa for your grilled dishes:

In modern Iraq what first comes to one’s mind at the mention of the words sauce and salsa is a store-bought bottle of steak sauce similar to A1, which we use primarily with hamburger sandwiches. We think of salsa as a loan word and a foreign concept. Other store-bought sauces are more commonly known by their names, such as khardal (yellow mustard sauce), ketchup, and mayonnaise. Homemade dips and sauces are usually given names, such as hummus bi-thina, jajeek (yogurt sauce), etc.

The general consensus nowadays regarding the etymological origin of salsa and sauce is that they have been borrowed into English from Spanish and French, respectively, and that both ultimately come from Latin salsus ‘salted,’ which stems from sal ‘salt,’ which indeed is an important ingredient in making sauce and salsa (see American Heritage Dictionary 4^th edition). BUT:

Etymology aside, serving dishes with some sort of sauce, relish, or condiment is an ancient custom going back to the ancient world. In one of the Babylonian recipes preserved on cuneiform tablets written around 1700 BC, there are directions for the cook to send the dish to the table accompanied with “garlic, greens, and vinegar” (Jean Bottéro, Mesopotamian Culinary Texts 12). 

Given the high level of sophistication the ancient Mesopotamian cuisine achieved, it is likely that these ingredients were presented in the form of a relish, or what we call today salsa, i.e. chopped and mixed with vinegar. Otherwise, there is no logic in imagining that these ingredients were actually presented to the aristocratic diners in separate containers, so that they munch on whole garlic cloves and vegetables, and sip vinegar from a bowl. In fact, judging from the Akkadian herbal texts and related medicinal practices, such relishes and sauces were indeed meant to function as appetizers and digestives.

Later on, the ancient Greeks and the Romans showed the same tendencies, as exemplified in Apicius, the only cookbook which came down to us from classical antiquity, believed to have been compiled around late 4^th or early 5^th century AD. The book abounds with sauce recipes called oenogarum. They were served with all kinds of meat and vegetables, such as in the recipe “Herb sauce for fried fish:

Prepare, wash, and fry whatever fish you like. Pound pepper, cumin, coriander seed, laser root [asafetida], oregano, rue, pound again; pour on vinegar, add date, honey, defrutum [reduced grape juice], oil, flavor with liquamen [fermented fish sauce]. Put into a pan, bring it to heat; when it is simmering, pour it over the fried fish, sprinkle with pepper and serve. (Grocock and Grainger, Apicius 301) 

 

Evidently, the tradition of serving meat and vegetable dishes with the suitable dips and sauces continued well into the medieval times. In the Islamic-Arab medieval world, the general Arabic word used designating such condiments was إدام idam and صباغ  sibagh. To my knowledge, the earliest record occurs in the Qur’an (revealed between 610 and 632 AD), where the olive tree is said to provide people with oil used as sibgh (صِبغ) condiment (Al-Mu’minoun, Chapter xxiii: verse 20). Indeed, olive oil along with vinegar was deemed the most basic of all condiments. We still relish a dip of seasoned olive oil with bread, and think of it as being an exclusively Italian simple dip.

Now, we come to the earliest extant Arabic cookbook, which is al-Warraq’s tenth-century Baghdadi cookbook Kitab al-Tabeekh كتاب الطبيخ  . It covers the Abbasid cuisine from late eighth to mid- tenth century. This cookbook contains many recipes for condiments called sibagh (صباغ), which are similar to what we have in Apicius. They are served as dips and sauces with meat, fish, and vegetable dishes, as an aid to digestion, particularly with grilled dishes, as they were thought to be hard to digest. Fish was deemed especially bad for the digestion, due to its cold properties, unless aided with the suitable sibagh.

In al-Warraq’s chapter dealing with fish dips, the book explains that sauces cooked with asafetida, onion, and spices aid digestion and sauces cooked with raisins and pomegranate seeds whet the appetite and help purge the food out of the system fast. The best were sauces cooked with sumac and almond because they digest very fast.  

The gourmet prince Ibrahim bin al-Mahdi (d. 839), half-brother of Harun al-Rasheed, composed a poem on a perfect fish dish served with sibagh (al-Warraq, Chapter 33):

وطاه اتى في يوم قيظ بصحفة     وفيها من الشبوط كالجدي احمرا

قد احكمه شيّا وصير حشوه      كرفسا وكراثا وزيتا وصعترا

وهيّا له من بعد ذلك صباغه     عصارة رمان ولوز وسكّرا

وخلا ومريا وانجذانا وفلفلا      وزيتا ركابيا وجوزا وكزبرا

فجاء بها كالشمس لونا وبهجة     تعاطيك انجوجا ومسكا وعنبرا

On a hot summer day, the cook brought us a dish of shabbut (carp) fish, a golden kid-roast resembled.

Masterly roasted; with parsley, leeks, olive oil, and thyme stuffed.

Then its sibagh he made of pomegranate juice, sugar, and almond,

Vinegar, murri, asafetida leaves, black pepper, olive oil, walnut, and coriander.

He brought it in looking like the sun, a radiant delight, redolent with aloe wood, musk, and amber (My translation, in Annals of the Caliphs' Kitchens)

Sibagh was sometimes served as a dip alongside the grilled or fried dishes. It was put in small bowls called sakarij. They were used communally by the eaters, which necessitated that they should stay clean. Diners were strongly cautioned against what today is called double dipping -- dip a morsel into the sibagh bowl, have a bite, and dip it again (as happens in one of Seinfeld's episodes). Such a person back then was disparagingly called القطّاع al-qattaa’ ‘the cutter.’

Etymologically, one of the medieval meanings of sibagh was ‘a dip,’ from the verb sabagha صبغ  'to dip.’ Interestingly, this term was also applied to the Christians’ rite of baptizing children, and explains why John the Baptist, for example, was given the name Yohanna al-Sabbagh يوحنا الصباغ.

It turns out the word ultimately derives from the ancient Mesopotamian language. In the Akkadian dictionary, the verb sapu (variant saba’u) means ‘to soak, drench.’ Interestingly, this also sheds light on the meaning of the name of an ancient religious group that still exists in modern Iraq, the Sabians (الصابئة). In the Iraqi dialect, they are called Subba, followers of John the Baptist, who choose to live close to rivers.    

To resume the subject of sauces and dips, as we come to the thirteenth century, we notice some kind of development. In al-Baghdadi’s cookbook Kitab al-Tabeekh, sibagh recipes given were no longer poured all over the cooked meat and vegetables. Instead, they were presented as separate appetizers to be eaten with bread. According to al-Baghdadi, they were given between dishes, to cleanse the palate, sharpen the appetite, and aid digestion.

In the rest of the extant medieval Arabic cookbooks, which belong more or less to the same era as that of al-Baghdadi's, such as the Aleppan Al-Wusla ila ’l-Habeeb الوصلة الى الحبيب by the Syrian historian Ibn al-‘Adeem and the Egyptian Kanz al-Fawa’id كنز الفوائد, we come across condiments known by the name صُلص/ صلوصات suls/ sulusat (singular صَلص sals).

From the many recipes given in these books, we realize we are dealing with condiments — in content and function — similar to those of sibagh. However, from the sulusat recipes we infer that the dips and sauces started to be made smoother and uniform in consistency. The ingredients were pounded in a mortar until they resembled marham (ointment), as one of the recipes specified. The cook was also instructed to adjust the liquid added until the mixture attains قوام الصلص qiwam al-sals (sauce consistency), which I take to be neither runny nor too thick, the eater should be able to pick up some of the sauce with a piece of bread. Some of the sauces were meant for immediate use, such as the one prepared by mixing yogurt with pounded garlic and mint. Others were sealed in containers for up to a month. In one of the recipes, the prepared sauce was kept in one-time-use bottles because the sauce would mold after the bottle was opened. Here is its recipe from the Egyptian cookbook Kanz al-Fawa’id, recipe no. 491, called sals Kamili (صلص كاملي), most probably after the Ayyubid King al-Malik al-Kamil, who ruled 1218 to 1238:

12-century glass bottle, probably Syrian.
Credit: MET Museum, 2005,318,
Friends of Islamic Art Gifts, 2005 

Recipe for Sals Kamili:

Take the very tender leaves from the tips of citron stems (qulub al-utrunj), soak them in fine-tasting water, and then [drain them and] take one part, and pound them in jurn al-fuqqa’i. Take a similar amount, by weight, of chervil (baqdunis), and another similar amount of rayhan turunji (lemon balm). Pound them in the same manner, and mix them all; sprinkle on them crushed Andarani salt (rock salt), and squeeze in what is needed of lime juice.

Empty the sauce into glass bottles, and seal their surfaces with sweet olive oil. In each bottle, there should be an amount enough for a single table. Before serving the sauce, [a mix of] galangal, ginger, cloves, and black pepper—all crushed, are sprinkled on it to give it a delicious flavor. Some people choose to use it without adding these spices (My translation). 

It is still unresolved whether the suls dipping condiments were indigenous to the Middle Eastern region, etymologically and in substance, or whether they were an imported concept during the time of the Crusades. However, I venture here to side with the former. The condiment in all its varieties has a long established history in the region. Besides, the name, after all, might not necessarily have been Latin in origin (from salsus and sal). In the major medieval Arabic dictionaries, salas (pl. suls) is descriptive of the consistency of ‘soft mud,’ which indeed is applicable to the consistency of the sauces, described above. 

Clearly, the history of salsa needs to be revised in light of what is being discovered of the medieval Arab cuisine. Meanwhile here is a simple medieval recipe to enjoy for a condiment, usually served with grilled meat, from al-Baghdadi’s thirteenth-century cookbook كتاب الطبيخ Kitab al-Tabeekh. It is called Khal wa Khardal (vinegar and mustard): 

Take sweet almonds, skin them, finely pound them, and mix them with very sour vinegar, adding enough of it to thin down the mix. Finely pound mustard seeds and add, as much as you wish of it to the the almond mix, along with the spice blend atraf al-teeb (My translation).     

Mustard and Vinegar Sauce

(Khal wa Khardal)

خل وخردل

This is my adaptation of this recipe: 

            ½ cup (2 ounces) whole almonds, toasted and cooled

            1 cup (2 ounces) chopped parsley

            2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped

            ¼ cup olive oil

            ¼ cup vinegar

            2 tablespoons mustard sauce

            1 teaspoon thyme or za'tar

            ½ teaspoon salt

            ¼ teaspoon black pepper

           

1. Put almonds, parsley, and garlic in a blender or food processor. Blend, adding oil gradually until mixture is well pureed.

 

2. Add vinegar, mustard, thyme, salt, and pepper. Pulse mixture for a few seconds to blend.

Delicious with all kinds of grilled meat. 

Winter Jams with Carrots and Beets

مربى الجزر ومربى الشوندر

Mrabbat Jizar, Mrabbat Shuwandar 

Charming jams, like the glowing embers  of a brazier on a cold wintry day. 

Beetroot Jam

Carrot Jam

We tend to associate jam-making with summertime, when the lusciously sweet fruits are most abundant. The humble winter root vegetables, unfortunately, easily escape our 'jamming' attention. But this should not be. Roots, like carrots and beets, though considered vegetables, are in fact quite conducive to jam-making.

Both vegetables are winter crops in Iraq, and people use them in salads to give them a vibrant color to make up for the absence of tomatoes (summer vegetable). We enjoy beets boiled as a snack, and the resulting liquid is sweetened with some sugar, and with a squeeze of lemon, it turns into a refreshing delicious drink, we pickle it, and made into jam. 

As for carrot, we munch on it as a snack food, dice it along with lamb and turn it into a spicy flavorful rice dish. We turn it into golden jam, and a delicious sweet called halawat jizar (حلاوة جزر), home-made or purchased from the confectioners.          
           

Buying carrot halwa from the market-place  

 

A Bit of History:

It looks like it was on the land of ancient Mesopotamia that the first beet stew/soup (known as borscht in Europe) was cooked, as recorded in one of the three excavated Babylonian recipes, written around 1700 BC. It is quite possible that the Iraqi Jews' modern custom of cooking stews with beets has its roots deep down into the Babylonian times.     

The Babylonian cuneiform tablet with stew recipes (1700 BC). Courtesy of Yale Babylonian Collection

This beet dish is one of the 25 stew recipes inscribed in the cuneiform tablet above. The recipe is called "Tuh'u-beets," and it goes thus:

"Leg of mutton. Meat is used. Prepare water; add fat. Peel the vegetables. Add salt, beer, onion, arugula, coriander, samidu (?), cumin, and beets. Assemble all ingredients in the cooking vessel and mash leeks and garlic. After cooking, sprinkle the resulting stew with coriander and raw suhutinnu (?)"  

The kind of beets used in such an ancient recipe should not be different from the beets we use today, even in name. We read in Dictionary of Assyrian Botany (by Campbell Thompson, 1948) that in the ancient Mesopotamian region it was called ‘shumundar,’ it was as red as blood, and has a spinning-top shape (pp. 49, 51).

When we come to the medieval era, although the extant Arabic cookbooks do not have any recipes with beets, only turnips, their books on botany and horticulture do make mention of it, as shamandar (شمندر), sometimes occurring as jughandar (جغندر) and jukandar (جكندر), and recipes are given for how to pickle it. It is my guess that the intense color of the beets discouraged serving it in dishes, which were more often than not served as communal meals handled with the fingers. The stains on clothes would have been too  tough to wash off, indeed. 

Illustration of a woman harvesting beets. From the late 1300s Tacuinum Sanitatis, a medieval European health handbook based on 11th-century ِArabic book Taqweem al-Sihha تقويم الصحة  (Maintenance of Health)
by the famous Christian physician and native of Baghdad Ibn Butlan (أبن بطلان) 

As for carrots, while I could bot find any references to it in the ancient Mesopotamian records, there is ample evidence that it was a popular root-vegetable in the medieval Arabo-Islamic world, including Baghdad. Of the cultivated carrots, there was mention of red and orange carrots -- juicy, tender, and delicious, which poets compared to carnelian, rubies, flames of fire, coral reeds, and gold. The yellow carrot was described as being thicker and denser in texture than the red-orange variety; and white carrot must have been parsnips, described as aromatic, deliciously sharp in taste, with a pleasant crunch. Carrots were eaten raw and cooked.

 Illustration of a farmer harvesting parsnips (below: harvesting carrots). From the late 1300s Tacuinum Sanitatis, a medieval European health handbook based on 11th-century Arabic book Taqweem al-Sihha تقويم الصحة  (Maintenance of Health) by the famous Christian physician and native of Baghdad Ibn Butlan (أبن بطلان) 

Many recipes were preserved in the extant medieval Arabic cookbooks. Al-Warraq’s 10th-century Baghdadi cookbook, for instance, gives recipes for cold carrot dishes, called salayiq (صلايق); condensed puddings of khabees (خبيص); jams murabba  (مربّى), and drinks sharab (شراب), which were believed to invigorate coitus. In fact, both beets and carrots were thought of as aphrodisiac foods. 

Nowadays, both roots are highly valued as powerhouses of nutrients, and exploring their culinary possibilities is well worth it. 

For inspiration, visit World Carrot Museum and Love Beetroot , and of course the following jams. 

Here is how to make them:

The same method and amounts can work for both, except for the flavorings. I like to use cardamon and a bit of rose water for the carrot jam, and cardamom and a bit of vanilla for the beet jam, but feel free to experiment to your liking.

  

For the beet jam, I just peeled the root and cut it into thin slices. 



For the carrot jam, I used my fun new kitchen gadget the spiral vegetable slicer. Usually it does a very good job on slicing veggies into enticing strands.Previously I used to slice the carrot thinly or shred it in the food processor, but the carrot strands I got with this slicer were really beautiful.

1 pound carrots or beets (amount weighed after peeling and cutting or slicing)

1½ cups granulated sugar

1/2 cup water 
2 tablespoons honey

3 whole pods cardamom

1/4 cup walnut halves, optional 

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 teaspoon rose water

1 teaspoon vanilla

(See my comment above on flavorings)

1. In a medium heavy pot, layer carrots or beets with sugar. Add water, cover the pot, and set aside, overnight. The sugar will melt and the vegetables will release a lot of their juices.  

2. Put the pot on medium fire. Add honey, cardamom and walnut (if used). Fold the mix gently and let it boil quietly, skimming the froth if needed, about 20 minutes. Five minutes before the jam is done, add lemon juice and the flavorings. 

To test for doneness, put a drop of the syrup in a small plate. If the drop keeps its domed shape and does not go flat, the jam is done.          

Let the jam cool off completely, and keep in the refrigerator. Lovely with butter or cream cheese, or sour cream. You can even enjoy it by itself as dessert. The beets and the carrots will have a scrumptiously chewy bite to them.