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

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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.

Recipes from Baghdad: 

The First Cookbook in the History of Modern Iraq

Front of dust jacket

In 1946 a cookbook titled Recipes from Baghdad was published. It was by far the first cookery document to have been written in Iraq after a long silence of almost seven hundred years.

Back of dust jacket

To be sure, documenting cookery in Iraq has a very long history, which goes as far back in time as ancient Mesopotamia, when our ancestors the Babylonians immortalized their cooking on cuneiform tablets around 1700 BC. Also, from medieval Arabic sources we learn that a lot of cookery books were written in Baghdad during the Abbasid era between the ninth and thirteenth centuries, by professional chefs, gourmets, physicians, princes, and even the caliphs themselves. Unfortunately, only a couple of cookbooks survived the ravishes of time, one was written in the tenth century by Ibn Sayyar al-Warraq and the other, in the thirteenth century by Muhammad bin al-Kareem al-Katib al-Baghdadi, both titled Kitab al-Tabeekh (cookery cook). After that, our records remain silent until 1946. But this time around the cookbook was written in English. Recipes from Baghdad was its title, published to raise funds for the Indian Red Cross. It was printed at the Government Press in Baghdad. The second edition was published by the Red Crescent Society (Women’s Branch) in Baghdad in 1952, and the third and last edition was done by the privately-run El-Ani Press in in Baghdad in 1961. Obviously, the book was pretty popular. 

Inner title page

Besides its culinary significance, this book is a rare social document from Iraq written in collaboration with a host of Baghdad residents just after WWII. It was edited by May H. Beattie (B.A., Ph. D.), an Englishwoman from Sheffield England, who later established herself as the world’s top rug scholar until her death in 1997. (See for instance her book Carpets of Central Persia: With Special Reference to Rugs of Kirman)

May Beattie

In editing the book Beatie was assisted by Bedia Afnan, an eminent Iraqi educator who later worked for the UN; Renee Al Kabir, a member of a prominent Baghdadi Jewish family; and Helen Gaudin (B.S., MA.) and Ann Walter, two English or American ladies whom I have not been able to trace.

Lady Margaret Cornwallis, wife of the then British ambassador to Iraq, Kinahan Cornwallis, wrote the Foreword (March, 1945). In it, Lady Margaret stated that the purpose of writing this book was to raise funds for the Red Cross. She also saw in it a chance for a cultural exchange. With its ‘oriental’ and ‘occidental’ collection of recipes, she explained, the book would enable Westerners who enjoyed the Arab delicacies of the table to make them for themselves, and introduce the Eastern readers to Western food. The book was “the result of friendly co-operation between Iraqi and British housewives, with help from the ladies of other nations.” Indeed, the Acknowledgment list the book provides of contributors included no less than 118 names of Baghdad residents, which besides the ‘housewives’ Lady Margaret mentioned, included professionals, physicians and institutions, such as ‘Home Arts School’ for girls, and ‘Painforce Schools of Cookery.’

The book reveals a mid-twentieth-century cultured metropolitan Baghdad, rarely depicted in documents dealing with this era in the history of Iraq. At the head of the contributors list were the names of two Iraqi female royalties: Queen mother of Iraq Aliyya bint Ali (1911-1950), spouse of King Ghazi and mother of Faisal II, the last of the Iraqi kings, and Queen Nafisa bint Abd al-Ilah, who is Aliyya’s mother. Queen Nafisa provided recipes, but Queen Aliyya’s involvement in the project went beyond offering recipes. She was the one to write the Introduction for the book, enthusiastically endorsing it as a ‘scholarly’ work, “artistically executed and exceedingly interesting.” Recommending it, she adds,

I find that it meets an urgent need and fills an existing deficiency. I was delighted with the variety of dishes dealt with and I admire the accuracy and originality with which the recipes are explained.    

After acknowledging the emergence of the ‘art of cooking’ as a respectable field in this modern age, Queen Aliyya embarked on summarizing the background to the interest of the Arabs in cooking, which goes back to the times when they entered into settled life and civilization, She supported her claim with references to medieval books such as Kitab al-Diyarat by al-Shabushti, and more importantly al-Baghdadi’s thirteenth-century cookery book Kitab al-Tabhk [sic], mentioned earlier, which at the time was a relatively new discovery. It was published in Mosul in 1934, and translated into English in 1939 by the British Orientalist A. J. Arberry.

Queen mother of Iraq

The book’s 163 pages cover a lot of territories. Baghdad is depicted as a ‘cosmopolitan city’ which “has drawn its customs from the west as well as the east in recent years.” An amusing fusion of east and west can be seen in their choice of a cocktail drink called ‘Abu Nuwas’, the famous ninth-century Baghdadi poet famous for his khamriyyat ‘wine poems.’ Shopping in Baghdad is vividly described, and is supplemented with a bilingual list of the most common spices used. Its 457 recipes deal mostly with Iraqi dishes, but a good number also come from countries like Turkey, Iran, Levant, Egypt, Tunisia, Morocco, India, England, Poland, Monaco, France, Switzerland, Italy, and China.

Abu Nuwas Cocktail:

1 part Vodka

1/2 part lemon juice

1/2 part pomegranate juice

1 part Cyprus Cointreau

Add a dash of orange bitters and the white of a fresh egg to the shaker. Shake well and do not trust it too far. (p. 92)

The recipe directions are briefly described but the amounts of ingredients are given in exact measurements, using kilos, teaspoons and tablespoons, and tins. The measuring unit of the tin was chosen by the editors as a substitute for the standard American measuring cup, which was difficult to obtain in Baghdad. It was the Players or Gold Flake 50-cigarette canister, easily available at the time.

Illustrating measuring units in the end-papers

What is truly exciting about this book is the cartoon-style sketches, all 35 of them, dispersed throughout the book, done by Suad Salim, as stated in the inner title page. No further mention of this cartoonist was made in the book. Interestingly, I was under the impression that the artist was a woman since Suad is a familiar female name in the Arab countries. I was pretty amazed to discover that this Suad is no other than the older brother of the famous Iraqi artists, Jawad Saleem and Nazeeha Saleem. He was one of the pioneering cartoonist in Iraq. Surprisingly, little is written or known about him (here is a link to an Arabic interview with him in 1985), and no records of his artistic works are available in print. This is one of the reasons why this book is a truly precious rare find.

Here are samples of Suad Saleem's cartoons:  

Coffee house (Gahwa)

     

Tea-time

     

Masgouf

Baklawa and the inevitable flies

Cocktail party in Baghdad  

 

The chapter on cocktails was written by W. N. M. Hogg, author of the Canadian publication The first Ascent of Bush Mountains (1936).  He compares cocktails to Arabic verbs: "At first acquaintance they appear disarmingly simple but a close study leads to headaches."