Twisted Sesame Rings, Simeat

Bagels of Baghdad 

السميط

Traditional savory pastry rings, encrusted with sesame seeds, Baghdadi version of the Jewish bagels

Simeat are well known throughout the eastern Mediterranean countries. Despite some differences, they are all shaped as rings and are generously encrusted with sesame seeds.

The authentic varieties, like Iraqi simeat, are closely related to bagels, in that they are poached in hot water before baking. In fact, the name of these pastries originally came from this practice because the root verb samata (سمط) means ‘dip briefly in hot water.’ This is a baking technique deeply steeped in history. In one of the extant medieval Arab cookbooks, a recipe for ring cookies called ka’k instructs that the dough be shaped into rings, which are first carried by a rolling pin and dipped briefly in boiling water and then arranged on a tray and baked in the brick oven called furn.

In Iraq, they are shaped into attractive small twisted rings, encrusted with lots of fragrant toasted sesame seeds, crispy in crust and chewy in texture. They are bought from wandering vendors who arrange the simeats on baskets in tall piles and carry them on their heads.

Recipe:

Simeat makes an excellent light snack. Here is an easy way to make them without having to parboil them before baking. (Makes 28 pieces)

3 tablespoons dried yeast
2 tablespoons sugar
1 cup (250 ml) warm water

10 cups (2½ lb/ 1.25 kg) bread/strong flour
1 tablespoon salt

¼ cup (60 ml) oil
3 cups (715 ml) warm water

For glaze: 1 egg-white whisked in 1 tablespoon water
Sesame seeds, dry toasted, for sprinkling

1. Oven heat 450°F/ 230°C/ gas mark 8.

2. Dissolve yeast and sugar in 1 cup (250 ml) warm water, and set aside for 5 minutes.

3. In a big bowl, combine flour and salt. Make a well in the middle, and then pour in yeast mixture, oil and 3 cups/715 ml warm water. Incorporate liquids into flour in a circular movement using a wooden spoon. With oiled hands, knead for 6 to 7 minutes until you get a smooth dough. Let rise in a warm draft-free place for about 1 hour.

4. Punch down dough, and divide it into 28 portions. Let it rest for about 10 minutes, covered.

5. On a slightly oiled surface, form into simeat rings as follows. Divide each piece into two parts. Roll each part into a rope about 9 in/23 cm long (if dough feels elastic and springs back, let it rest for 5 minutes). Lay 2 ropes next to each other, and wind one rope around the other. Curve twist into a circle, matching ends to form a continuous ring. Make sure to seal the ends very well to prevent them from opening while rising and baking. Put shaped pieces aside on a flat surface. After making about five, brush them with the glaze, and dip each, face down, in the toasted sesame. Arrange rings on a greased baking sheet. Leave space between them to allow for expansion. Repeat with other batches.

6. Let rise in a warm place for 40 to 45 minutes, covered with a kitchen towel.

7. Bake in the middle of the preheated oven. To create a good crust, spray simeat and oven with water. Repeat about 2 to 3 times, for the first 5 minutes. Total time of baking is about 15 minutes or until golden brown. Serve immediately or let pieces cool off in a wicker basket or on a rack. Cooled ones can be kept in plastic bags in the refrigerator or freezer. Heat in the oven as needed.

I sometimes break away from tradition and make simeat with cheese, olives and herbs. Quite tasty and aromatic.

Here is how to make them:

Herbed Simeat with Cheese and Olives

Prepare dough as given above. After dough rises, punch it down, and add to half of it the following:
¾ cup (4 oz/115 g) pitted/stoned and chopped olives
½ cup (2 oz/60 g) crumbled feta cheese or shredded mozzarella cheese
¼ cup (½ oz/15 g) each chopped fresh mint, parsley, and dill

Knead the ingredients into the dough. Let it rest for 10 minutes, and then divide it into 14 portions. Shape and bake as described above.
(Recipe from my cookbook Delights from the Garden of Eden)

Iraqi Burgers, 'Uroog   

Veggie-Meat Patties with Onion-Sumac Relish

عروق

For those of you accustomed to eating the regular all-meat hamburgers, this will be an exciting new take on this staple food. These are lusciously aromatic meat patties; lighter in texture than the all-meat ones, and are not as greasy despite the fact that they are fried. This is because the meat-veggie mix is moist and will not allow fat to penetrate, as you will see. You can tell this by the amount of fat left after frying. And if you hate frying for the mess and spatter it creates, rest assured 'uroog is 'user friendly'.

In Iraq, 'uroog is very popular, served as sandwiches for breakfast, along with hot sweet tea, and for the evening meal, which is usually lighter than lunch, the main meal of the day, when the staples rice and stew and other elaborate stuffed dishes like dolma and kubba are eaten. The perfect 'uroog meal would include along with it some scrumptious slices of fried eggplant and potatoes, with pickles, and lots of fresh herbs and salad vegetables, and of course the feathered onion with sumac (recipe below).



Eking out meat with vegetables and grains is a common Middle-Eastern cooking technique, done partly to lighten up the dishes and partly for economical necessities. With big families to feed, the expensive meat can really go a long way by creating nourishing and delicious dishes, such as 'uroog.

'Uroog is definitely not a new invention. Middle Eastern cooks have been fixing such dishes for centuries, albeit under different names such as tardeen and isfeeriyya, for which we have recipes preserved in medieval Arabic cookbooks. One of the tardeen recipes, for instance, calls for pounding lean red meat, and mixing it with pounded nuts, onion, a bit of honey, eggs, cinnamon, ginger, mastic, aniseed, black pepper, and white wheat flour. all this is to be moistened with some water, and then formed into discs and fried. Similarly, an isfeeriyya recipe requires pounding lean red meat, and mixing it with some water, bread dough , eggs, and ground black pepper, saffron, cumin, and coriander seeds. This mix was supposed to be rather thin in consistency, It was taken in ladlefuls and poured into hot oil, and fried into thin discs, and hence the name isfeeriyya (looking like a thin disc).        

                  
  

'Uroog is traditionally made with fermented dough. Some cooks, including myself, more conveniently use flour and a small amount of dried yeast or baking powder, instead. Although parsley is the traditional herb used, feel free to add other herbs like mint, basil, dill, or chives. Nowadays, the majority of cooks prefer to shape them as oblongs, but some prefer make them round.       

Here is how to make 'uroog:

1 pound lean ground meat

1½ medium onions (about 1 cup/6 ounce), chopped into small pieces

¾ cup (1½ ounce) chopped parsley (other herbs may be added such as chives, basil, or mint)

1 egg

1 teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon black pepper

1 teaspoon curry powder

1 teaspoon crushed coriander seeds

½ teaspoon baking powder or dry yeast

1 cup water, room temperature

1 cup flour (all-purpose or whole wheat)

Oil for frying

For garnish: onion relish (recipe below), chopped parsley, pickles, salad vegetables

1. In a big bowl, mix meat, onion, parsley, other herbs if used, salt, pepper, egg, curry powder, and coriander.     

2. Dissolve baking powder or yeast in water. Add water to the meat mix, and fold well. Add the flour, and knead lightly with one hand for a few minutes until well combined. The final mix will be a little soft but it should hold its shape when formed into patties (see photo below). Add a small amount of flour if needed. This dough is easier to handle with wet hands.

3. Heat ½ inch-deep oil in a medium-size frying pan. With wet hands, take a piece of the dough, size of a golf ball. Put it on the palm of one hand, and with the other, form it into an oblong patty, about 3 inches long and ⅓ inch thick. Carefully (don’t fry your fingers!) put the piece in the hot oil the moment you finish shaping it, and repeat until you fill the frying pan comfortably. 

Let patties fry until golden brown, turning only once to fry on both sides. Remember to wet your hands while handling this dough to prevent it from sticking to your fingers. Drain fried pieces on white paper towels put in a colander (this will prevent them from getting soggy). Repeat the process with the rest of dough. These patties cook very fast. Frying them will not take more than 15 minutes.

For presentation: Line a platter with onion relish, arrange ‘uroog patties all over, and sprinkle with chopped parsley. Or serve them already stuffed into bread, along with sliced tomatoes, onion relish, and chopped parsley.

(Makes about 26 patties)

Onion-Sumac Relish

Feathered Onion

بصل مريّش

Onion cut into thin slices and separated, as done here, is called busal mrayyash (feathered onion), in the Iraqi culinary lingo. This relish is so simple and yet so delicious, and goes very well with all kinds of grilled and fried meat. The sumac, with its fruity and pleasantly tart taste, transforms onion into a delicacy, which is believed to excite the appetite and aid digestion.          
   

Here is how to prepare it:

Cut a medium onion in half lengthwise, then thinly slice it crosswise. Put it in a small bowl, add 1 teaspoon vinegar and a very generous sprinkle of sumac, then fluff the onion and set aside, covered, for about 10 minutes and use. 

Babylonia and Beyond:

History of Iraqi Cuisine 

Interview on the Heritage Radio Network.org: A Taste of the Past - Episode 136 

First Aired - 05/23/2013 12:00 PM

Eat Bread Enkido, the glory of life,

Drink wine Enkido, the custom of the land.

(from Epic of Gilgamesh)

Iraqi tannour bread, of Sumerian origin 

In celebration of the release of the new edition of my book Delights from the Garden of Eden, I sat with the culinary historian Linda Pelaccio in the NY Studio and chatted with her about the history of the Iraqi cuisine.

Order information available at www.iraqicookbook.com

From the Heritage Radio website:

This week on A Taste of the Past, Linda and Nawal delve into the history of Iraqi cuisine and the Sumerians. Learn about some of the world's oldest recipes written on cuneiform tablets.

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

Learn about the importance of stews in the Iraqi diet! How did traditional, medieval-influenced Iraqi recipes change with the discovery of the New World? Tune into this episode to learn more about cooking techniques for masgouf! Find out how Nawal blends ancient, medieval, and modern recipes in her book!

The Babylonian cuneiform tablet with recipes for bird pies (1700 BC). Courtesy of Yale Babylonian Collection

Babylonian Flavors:

Watch British Museum chefs cooking ancient Babylonian recipes to create some authentic Mesopotamian dishes:

YouTube link.

Not Your Typical 'Native Tongue'

An Iraqi Sandwich

سندويج لسان

If you like what you see, read on:

Brace yourself for what I am going to say: 

This is a beef-tongue sandwich! 

If you are still there, you must either be a fan of the tongue sandwich, like myself, or a brave soul, hungry for the unknown. I know there are people who would be intimidated or even grossed out at the prospect of eating a tongue sandwich, but this shouldn't be. In fact, after cooking it, peeling off the thick skin, and trimming it, it looks as benign as a tender loin; an exquisite muscle meat, high in protein, and even tenderer and more flavorful and aromatic than any other pot roast you could ever lay your hands on to stuff your sandwiches with.

Growing up in Baghdad, cold tongue sandwiches were the kind of snack food you would usually buy from carry-out shops or the snack bars of movie theaters  Condiments were kept to the minimum, just a few olives and some slices of pickled cucumber. We were able to enjoy more of these sandwiches when my mother learnt the best way to cook the tongue. The secret she learnt from one of our neighbors was to tenderize the tongue before cooking it. How? By beating it hard several times, as I will show you in the recipe.

Sandaweech Lisan (Beef-tongue Sandwich) from my cookbook Delights from the Garden of Eden:

1 medium beef tongue (about 3 pounds)

Salt and flour

For Marinade:

¼ cup olive oil

¼ cup vinegar

1 teaspoon za'tar, or thyme (available at Middle Eastern stores)

¼ teaspoon each black pepper, marjoram, caraway seeds, and ground ginger

1 onion studded with 6 to 8 whole cloves

2 t o 3 whole pods cardamom

1 bay leaf

1 teaspoon salt

1. Beat the tongue on a hard surface several times until it looks limp and a little longer. This is done to break the muscles. Wash it very well, rub it with salt and flour, and wash it again. Mix marinade ingredients in a glass bowl, and let tongue stay in it, a few hours to overnight.

Beef tongue before beating it

Beef tongue after beating it

2. Put the tongue in a deep big pot (such as a stock pot) with marinade, and rest of ingredients except for salt. Add cold water enough to well cover it. Bring to a quick boil, skimming as needed. Lower heat to medium-low and simmer, covered, until it feels tender when pierced with a fork, about 2 hours. Add salt about 10 minutes before it is done.   

5. Take the tongue out of the liquid, and let it cool completely. Peel off skin and refrigerate for at least 2 hours. With a thin sharp knife cut it into thin slices and make into sandwiches, with salad vegetables, pickles, and olives.

Khirret (cattail/Typha pollen) خرّيط:

Gift of the Marshes in  Southern Iraq,

and the Joyous Festival of Baghdadi Jews 

The Iraqi scholar Abbas Baghdadi wrote a very interesting book, titled بغداد في العشرينات (Baghdad in the 1920's, published 1999). It is a rare memoir packed with vivid vignettes of Baghdad during that period. One thing caught my attention in particular: In his description of street foods, he mentions in passing that among the foods that Baghdadi Jewish vendors used to sell was khirret (خرّيط). He describes it as dried yellow clay with no distinctive taste or smell. He says it is extracted from roots of reeds, and it is an exclusively Jewish food. In his chapter on feasts, he further mentions that one of the sweets Baghdadi Jews used to eat on the joyous festival of Purim in March was khirret. He says they called this festival عيد المجلي ('Id il-Mjalli 'Megillah'), which they rhymed with طاب القعود بالمحلّي (tab il-qu'ud bilimhalli), that is, it is so pleasant to sit outside the house -- now that winter has ended.

Now, I come from a Muslim family, originally from Basra, and I remember having crunched on chalky clumps of khirret several times as a snack food. It was light-mustard in color and faintly sweet, but addictive. None of my school friends in Baghdad knew of it, and when I told them about it, they got a kick out of its name. They though it was funny.  Besides, I was never aware of this Jewish connection. In fact, until I came across this mention of khirret in Abbas al-Baghdadi's book, I used to think it was another name for carob (kharnoub خرنوب/ kharroub خرّوب). 

Khirret vendor in Basra, southern Iraq 

Intrigued, I launched a search, which led me to Dr. Suzie Alwash, director of 'Eden Again Project', who helped me identify this mystery food. It turns out that khirret is none other than the yellow pollen of the famous wild aquatic plant bardi بردي (Typha spp), which has been growing in the southern marshes of Iraq (al-Ahwar) ever since time immemorial. It is said that in ancient Sumerian it was known as ariptu (اربتو) [I have not been able to verify this].

Marshland in southern Iraq

Bardi (Typha, also known as cattail, and reedmace) is a tall erect plant with lance-shaped leaves. The male and female flowers grow on the same stalk. The tiny fluffy male flowers are clustered in narrow cylindrical-shaped spike. They develop right above the female densely clustered spike, which looks like a hot dog.

During the pollinating season in early summer, the male spikes look golden yellow and are loaded with pollen. After they have given off their pollen, the flowers fall off, leaving behind a bare spike.

Typha/cattail male flowers with pollen

When the female spike ripens, it breaks apart and bursts releasing a  fuzzy whitish substance, which marsh people of Iraq call niffash نفّاش (fluffy).

Cattail/ typha

To the marsh people of Iraq, this plant is God-sent. The rhizomes make a source of nutritious starch; the bases of the leaves are eaten raw or cooked, the young flower spikes are cut off and eaten, and in springtime (April/May), the yellow pollen is collected and made into khirret. And it is the way this pollen is harvested that initially gave it  the name khirret (the stripped): The male spike is grasped firmly between the thumb and the forefinger, and it is firmly stripped into collecting sacks.

Harvesting khirret

In the southern marshes, this job of collecting pollen is usually allotted to women and kids. The harvested stuff is spread on a mat in a sunny place to allow it to dry out. After that, they sift it to get rid of all non-pollen material. The resulting yellow powder is mixed with sugar and then steam-cooked: A big pot is half-filled with water, and when it boils, a large piece of cloth is spread on the top of the pot, the pollen with the sugar is spread on this cloth. To prevent steam from escaping, the entire rim of the pot is sealed with mud. The pollen is covered with another piece of cloth, and left to steam-cook until it clumps into a cake-like mass. This mass is usually broken into pieces, and stored or sold in the market places of the neighboring towns and cities.

Here is a You Tube link, in which a marsh kid demonstrates how to steam khirret.








Sometimes, date syrup is added to replace sugar, which gives it a darker hue, and this must have been the sweetener originally used ever since ancient times before the advent of sugar.                                    

Khirret, candy of the marshes 

Khirret sold in the marketplaces looks like irregular pieces of yellow brick or rocks, but brittle  to the bite.     The marsh people like to call it chuklet il-ahwar جكليت الاهوار (marsh taffy).

Khirret candy, brick-like, but sweet and brittle 

Khirret is a nutritious food high in protein, and its medicinal benefits are believed to be many. People eat it to relieve indigestion. It is said to be good for the colon and respiratory tract. It is used to cleanse the urinary system and stop diarrhea. The raw pollen is put on wounds to heal them. It is also popular among women during the early stages of pregnancy. Moreover, it come in very handy for bee-keepers, who use it to feed their bees. 

To be sure, typha grows in other wetlands and marshes of the world, such as in China, where it is medicinally used more or less the same way the Iraqi marsh people use it, or in the United States, where eating Typha was part of the native American culture. However, I believe that the sweetened khirret candy, as described above, is the specialty of the marsh people of southern Iraq.

Now as to why this khirret candy was especially valued by Jewish Iraqis, as noted by Abbas al-Baghdadi above, here is what I think happened:  

Pharaoh's daughter looking at baby Moses © Darrel Tank/Licensed from GoodSalt.com

Interestingly, the image shows cattail/Typha, indigenous to the southern marshes of Iraq

instead of the more typically Egyptian Papyrus plant  

Baby Moses was found in a basket among the Egyptian Papyrus plant (Cyperus papyrus), and like the Typha in southern Iraq, they were called bardi in Arabic. The bardi in a sense was Moses’ savior. When the captive Jews settled in ancient Babylon, they eyed the region’s bardi with the same reverence, and the pollen candy khirret must have developed a religious significance in Judaism in Iraq ever since ancient times, especially during the happy spring festivals of life and salvation; that is up until the mid-20th century when there still was a thriving community in Iraq. Yellow in Judaism was a symbol of ripeness, freshness, happiness, gold and royalty, and the yellow khirret surely matched the fun spirit of the Purim holiday.

Through correspondence with the Israeli scholar Dr. Susan Weingarten, I learnt that Jewish Iraqis never took the khirret tradition with them to Israel. The new generation growing up there never had the chance to experience it first hand. To them it is just a faint memory. They told her that their parents talk about it, and they describe it as looking like a stone when held in hand, and that they used to eat it around springtime. She speculates that it is quite likely that the yellow coconut sweets they make for Purim in Israel must have been  a substitute for the hard-to-find original yellow khirret.

Sifted raw Khirret

Here is a link for an interesting article on Typha pollen: 

Plants Portraits: Pollen Cakes of Typha spp. [Typhaceae]-- 'Lost' and Living Food. Al Prendergast. Economic Botany 54(3), 2000 (254-255). Online PDF available here.


Indian khirret experience: very interesting post "Bhuri - Bhurrani Mitti" by blogger Alka Keswani.


See also this Khirret article on Gastro Obscura.

      

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."