What we see here in the picture, folks, is our new “olive cellar”, containing – yes – FIFTEEN jars of olives!
We used different recipes for the olives. About half of them are what we call here zeitim dfukim – olives that were broken so their pickling will be more thorough and take longer. The other half we left whole. The solution is salt water, and the spices include fresh lemons, spicy red peppers, black peppers, mustard seeds, and occasionally garlic and rosemary and red wine vinegar. We still don’t know how they are going to come out, but we’ll keep you posted.
What we see here is a jar with layers of olives, lemons, peppers etc. Here’s the way we did it:
1. We let the olives sit in water for four days, changing the water every day. 2. We washed the jars well (some folks even boil them to sanitize) 3. We cut about one lemon per jar into eight pieces. We peeled some garlic cloves and made a small dent in them with a knife. We prepared bay leaves, black unground pepper, mustard seeds, and rosemary twigs next to the spicy red peppers, lemons and garlic. 4. We placed two or three lemon slices and a hot pepper at the bottom of the jar, then layered with olives. 5. Then, we placed one or two bay leaves (per jar) and some of the other spices, depending on what we wanted the jar to be like. Then put some more olives, and so on and so forth. 6. With some jars, we added about a third of a cup good quality wine vinegar. 7. We placed an egg inside a large pot and filled the pot with water (the egg sank to the bottom). We started adding salt – about 1 tablespoon per cup of water – and mixing it with the water. Whoa! The egg started floating! That meant the solution was ready. 8. We filled the jar with salt water, on top of the olives. 9. We “sealed” the olives with a thin layer of olive oil on top. 10. We closed and sealed the jar, and put it in a dark, cold place (poor olives). Now we wait. And here at the blog, it’ll be back to our previously scheduled programs.
My gentle readers have probably noticed how useful olive oil is in our Tel Aviv kitchen; there’s hardly a recipe without it. Olives, and olive oil, are an inseparable part of the Israeli landscape, and often become the symbolic subjects of political struggle over the land.
There is a large, ancient olive tree in my parent’s house, which yields “Syrian olives” of the small and bitter variety – the very best, in my opinion. This year the tree was full of fruit, and we decided to pick it and pickle it. My grandpa tried to dissuade us of the plan. A few years back, he had harvested much of the tree, and ended up pickling twenty enormous jars of olives, thinking he would give them out later as gifts. Hah! After a few weeks, no one in their circle of family and friends could bear the sight of olives, not to mention eating them, and the consumption took, well, quite a while.
But we were not convinced, and early on Saturday we charged the tree and started picking fruit. We spread large sheets under the tree and used two methods. First, we beat the branches – vigorously, but not ferociously – with Chad’s martial art bamboo swords. Much of the fruit fell to the ground while the branches remained intact. Then, we went over the branches and hand-picked what was left.
That took about three hours.
Then, we had to start sorting the olives; there is a certain fly who stings them and leaves a worm inside the pit. So, we looked for tiny imperfections to examine whether they were fly bites. That took four hours and we hadn’t finished by the time the sun set. Gaaaaah! One really learns to appreciate olives after such hard work.
Then, at home, Chad took half the amount of olives and “broke” them. Syrian olives are wonderful when they are cracked; there are various methods to do it, and his enterprising engineer nature led him to use our citrus juicer.
Now, all our olives are happily soaking in water, and will be pickled tomorrow. This is what our bathroom looks like:
What you can’t see in the picture is the large bucket of cracked olives, fermenting. More updates in the following days!
Stuffed peppers… not necessarily a romantic dish, isn’t it? When we think of romantic dining, some delicate, nouvelle-cuisine thing in delicate china comes to mind. Preferably something that is eaten sensually (and optimally fed to the other person, by hand). Stuffed peppers don’t exactly fall into that category. Or do they?
For me, they do. And the credit all goes to Robert James Waller’s The Bridges of Madison County. The book (for those of you who haven’t read it, and there can’t be too many who haven’t heard about it) is an amazing, tear-jerking story of an Iowa housewife who meets a National Geographic photographer. The two fall in love – an unpredictable, all-consuming, impossible love. And one of the exotic features about the photographer – who is so different from the housewife’s husband and all other men she knows – is his vegetarianism.
So, she makes him stuffed peppers. She stuffs them with wild rice and cheese. And it’s a lovely, romantic, fabulous dinner.
Now here’s why stuffed peppers are such a romantic food. First of all, they are extremely sexy. The contrast between their bold, colorful exterior and their comforting, nutritious interior is beautiful to see and fabulous to eat. Second, they are messy. Beautiful before touched, they require crossing a boundary when cutting into them and spilling their goodness on the plate. And third, they are soaked in good tomato sauce – the sexiest sauce of all, in my humble opinion.
The version photographed here (and eaten for lunch today by a hungry man studying for a university exam and his blogging girlfriend) is a bit unusual, and consists of cooked millet, leeks and dried tomatoes. You can be quite creative about the filling and many whole grains will do fine; the millet, however, tends to absorb flavors and liquids, sort of like couscous. Enjoy!
Stuffed Peppers with Millet, Leeks and Dried Tomatoes
4 large, nice, red peppers 2 leeks 1 1/2 cup cooked millet 3 garlic cloves 5-6 dried tomatoes 2 tablespoons rosemary, thyme, or (best) mixture of the two 2 1/2 cups good quality tomato sauce (or, if you’re in a hurry, make a quick sauce by quickly mixing, without cooking, tomato paste, water, herbs and crushed garlic)
Cut the top of the peppers and remove as many of the seeds as you can. Slice the leeks into little circles. Chop up the garlic cloves, and heat up the cloves and leeks in a pan with a little olive oil. Add cooked millet, chop in the dried tomatoes and herbs, and mix with a few tablespoons of the tomato sauce – until the millet’s “thirst” is “quenched” and it’s soft and moist.
Place the peppers in a baking pan so they stand firmly, and stuff each of them with the millet mixture. Pour the remaining sauce on top of the peppers (and make sure at least 1 cm of the baking pan is covered in liquid). Stick in a hot oven for about 35 minutes, or more if you want the peppers softer. If they get dry, add a bit of sauce and water on top.
A few weeks ago I was stranded in an airport with a pal of mine on the way to a conference. We sat in a little coffee shop, having juice and tea, and talking about various interesting ways in which people relate to their bodies. She said: “Have you noticed how Americans always refer to eating and drinking in scientific terms?” She was right, of course. How many times have you heard someone say “I need my caffeine” rather than “I want to drink coffee”? How many times has someone ordered a smoothie not because they wanted one, but because they “need their vitamins”?
There are so many ways to relate to food. Some people numb their senses to health, binge on alcohol, sodas, sweets and fats, and contribute to the high rates of heart disease and obesity (both of which also have genetic componenets). Others become gourmet fanatics and impose highly-refined and expensive standards of wining and dining on themselves and on others. And some become body chemists rather than living, eating people; food loses its joys, smells, shapes and aromas, and becomes a set of particles required for maintaining the organism.
Why do people do that? Why would anyone eschew the pleasures of eating to regard it as merely good practical science? I have no idea; it could be, to some extent, related to the medicalization of diets. In a society obsessed with thinness, interest in calories, carbs, fats and proteins increases. We are bombarded daily with good and bad science about how what we eat contributes to how we function and to what we look like. I think the health obsession, maligned by the ones who are trying to label “orthorexia” an eating disorder, is a close sister to thinness obsession and often tries to mask it. We say “we’re eating healthy” to mask the fact that we want to lose weight or maintain our diet achievements. Under these conditions, it is not surprising that our constant concerns with what we eat have turned into meta-science.
We are, of course, right to be concerned. Supermarkets and chains feed us sprayed, chemical-treated food devoid of nutrition. American food prices create strong incentives for purchasing boxes of mac ‘n’ cheese over a nice bag of tomatoes. I’ve seen it often at Safeway or Albertson’s: a tired mother, standing in line in front of me, short on cash, and on a budget, trying to figure out how to feed her children for the week, and opting for the cheaper option – a humongous set of cardboard boxes of instant food (“just add water”). The dry and chemical-ridden food was, itself, exciting science at some point; isn’t it ironic how now we regard other foods as such? It *is* upsetting that the machinations of food corporations has weakened us so much that health considerations have become a luxury. Here, in Israel, things are somewhat better, as vegetables and fruit are very affordable; and yet, whole grains and organic produce is still not easily available.
So, yes, there is cause for concern. And there’s all the more reason to encourage healthy, organic, local food production, and to mind what we are putting into our bodies. But while we’re at it, can we perhaps enjoy the food? Consider a nice fruit plate for breakfast. Yes, it offers sugar and vitamins and available energy. But that is not the (only) reason we eat fruit.
It begins with how they look. Their amazing array of colors, shapes and textures. It continues with their tropical intoxicating aroma. And it ends in their sweetness and tartness, and set of complex flavors. First and foremost – eating fruit is an enjoyable experience. The vitamins are important, but they are only part of the experience.
I’ll be heading off now to eat a load of passion fruit and figs for breakfast; it’ll likely make me smile, and give me an uplifting sensation that all is well. At the same time, yes, it’ll introduce some vitamins and energy into the “system”. Such is the magic of living things: we – and what we eat – are a web of complex science, and at the same time, so much more than that.
Okra, or Bamia, as we call it in Israel, is a much maligned vegetable. It stands, right next to cilantro and buckwheat, on the love-’em-or-hate’em shelf of foods in our collective consciousness.
When I came to the US, I discoverd, to my surprise, that breaded and fried okra was a Southern delicacy. I’ve also had it in Indian restaurants as Bhindi Masala – which is how my dear friend and heart-sister, Barbara, makes it.
Here, in the Middle East, we like our bamia in tomato sauce, over rice. It’s an Egyptian recipe, apparently, and quite a favorite among those who like bamia. This week we were really fortunate to get a beautiful variety of bamia from Chubeza: it was dark burgundy, with a flourescent green stripe on the side. So, we set out to cook it.
Now, here’s the tricky part: the folks who hate bamia, hate it because it produces a strange, mucuos-like substance. Ick, indeed. But the trick to eliminating that part of the experience is lightly frying the bamia before cooking it in the sauce.
Bamia in Tomato Sauce
3 cups of fresh bamia 2 garlic cloves 1 large onion 2 large tomatoes 1 container of tomato paste juice from 1 lemon 1 tablespoon of spices: dried dill, dried parsley, caraway seeds… or anything else you like with your tomato sauce (no basil this time, sorry)
Take the bamias and chop off their stem. Do not mess with the rest of the vegetable! Put them in a hot pan with some olive oil, and lightly toss them around for three or four minutes. Then, add chopped onion and garlic. After a couple of minutes, chop in the tomatoes, add the tomato paste, lemon, and spices. Simmer for about half an hour; add water if it gets too dry. Spoon over rice and munch.
It was a tad – just a tad – less hot the last few days. So, we rolled up our sleeves (absurd – who wears sleeves in this weather?) and set out to cook. In fact, Chad set out to cook. And made this wonderful stirfry.
The eggplant worked really, really well counterbalancing the orange ingredients of the stirfry, which include carrots as well as a special squash called “dalorit”. Dalorit is a strange linguistic pun in Hebrew: it combines the words “dla’at” (squash), “dal” (less, not rich in-) and “calorie” (needless to explain). It’s a funny little squash, like a ball that has a zucchini extend from it. It can be cooked just like squash and comes out delicious every time.
So:
Eggplant, Carrot and Squash Stirfry
1 medium-sized eggplant 1/2 – 1 dallorit, or a cup of squash, cut into 1/4 inch thick chunks 3 carrots 5-6 champignon mushrooms (optional but really good) 1 large onion 3-4 garlic cloves 1 inch piece of ginger 1/4 cup good quality soy sauce 1 tablespoon caraway or cumin seeds (trust me on this) 1 tsp black pepper or chili flakes 1 tbsp fresh chopped parsley.
100 grams good quality brown rice vermicelli
Slice eggplants into 1/4 inch thick slices, salt and let stand for about twenty minutes. The eggplants will “sweat” out their bitterness. Afterwards, wash with waterr and pat dry with a towel. Slice into smaller pieces. Also, slice onions (quite thinly!) and carrots into rings. Chop ginger and garlic quite thinly.
Heat up some good canola or olive oil in a wok, and add garlic, onions and ginger. Let sautee a bit, until the kitchen starts smelling wonderful. Then add the carrots, squash and eggplant. The eggplant will tend to “drink” up all the oil, and you might have to add some. Now, add soy sauce, seeds and spices.
When vegetables begin softening, boil water and quickly cook and strain vermicelli. Add noodles to the wok with soft vegetables, and toss a bit, just until everything smells and tastes wonderful. Sprinkle fresh parsley and enjoy!
The other day, walking on the beach, a horde of enthusiastic youngsters with matching teeshirts pounced on me happily, chirping about a “new exciting product, here, try it”. I looked behind them and saw their booth, belonging to a local mineral water company called Neviot. There were bottles, and plastic cups, and since I was very thirsty I took one and drank it up.
Gaaaah! It was sweet!
Apparently, the odd trend of flavored water has reached Israel.
As I was drinking, a strange sensation of deja vu hit me. After all, wasn’t it, like, three years ago that I was accosted by a similar group of youngsters near San Francisco’s Powell Station and offered a similar product? Yes, it was quite vile, even then. So now Israel has a line of peach and apple flavored water.
What is flavored water? apparently, it’s somewhat of a lighter version of the juice syrups we used to have as kids, only without the food coloring. The water basically contains either sugar or an artificial sweetener and some artificial fruit flavoring, and also some added vitamins. If you are a Coke or Diet Coke drinker, this option might be better for you; but if you think (like me) that sodas taste vile and are vile, why not skip the ridiculous flavored water and drink water, instead?
The constant struggle to find new and exciting ways to quench and refresh us has yielded various interesting trends. I won’t even get on the topic of sodas – there’s plenty of people talking about that. There are also the sports drinks – again, much like the artificial syrups of our youth, only with the added halo of SCIENCE behind them. Sports drinks contain electrolytes and sugar, and are aimed at replenishing these particles lost in sweat, while encouraging one to drink more. “What’s wrong with water?” asks one website, and answers:
Drinking plain water causes bloating, suppresses thirst and thus further drinking. It stimulates urine output and therefore is inefficiently retained. A poor choice where high fluid intake is required. Water contains no carbohydrate or electrolytes.
Yes, water does “cause” bloating. Anything ingested will make stomach expand as it takes some time to absorb. Yes, consuming liquids “stimulates urine output”, as they are supposed to; the kidneys and bladder do their job for a purpose. This might, perhaps, be tricky for marathon runners, but for us simple folk there’s really nothing better than good quality water. “Flavored water” is not much different from the fake juices of our childhood. Yes, it doesn’t have coloring, possibly to make it seem more healthy (which it probably is, to some extent). But the flavor is still there. Want to ask yourself what it’s doing there?
It seems that food manufacturers do not believe that we’ll drink anything unless there’s some sugar and added ingredients to it. Do pour yourself a glass of good water and prove them wrong.
Breakfast is a touchy subject. It appears that even folks who are ready to experiment with lunch and dinner don’t want to confront something strange and unfamiliar when they get up.
While my breakfast preferences have changed over the years, there are still items that surprise me when I travel or stay with friends. The Large American Brunch, for example, completely threw me off when I came to Berkeley. Fried potatoes? And toast? And meat? For breakfast? I couldn’t believe people would want to eat that (even if it’s served at a good diner, rather than in an abominable Egg McMuffin). My roommate from Taiwan enjoyed a big plate of pork and fried greens at 7am, which was delicious for her and very odd for me. And, when scheduled to give talks in England, Oxford and London hotels insisted on serving fried tomatoes (why spoil a good thing?) and mushrooms, and beans. All these choices apparently work perfectly well for folks who are used to them, but me – I couldn’t cope with those items.
My usual morning fare includes a cup of hot water with lemon, followed by fresh fruit; I find it works really well for me and gives me a nice start. But when going out or inviting people in, we often eat the traditional Israeli breakfast, comprised of the following items:
– eggs – cheese of various kinds – a big vegetable salad – bread – tuna or some smoked fish (optional) – orange or grapefruit juice – coffee or tea
Now, Israeli hotels are quite famous for their breakfasts, which include a variety of additional items: fruit, yoghurt, various muesli, granola and cereal options, hot cake, salty and sweet pastries, etc. Even less exciting venues often add good quality tchina. But the egg, cheese and salad are the key components.
What’s so good about an Israel breakfast? Obviously, considering that most people eat bread in the morning with their eggs and cheese, it offers a combination of carbs and protein. Count the juice in, and you’ve got some more sugar and vitamins. If one is into food combinations, the best and safest way to enjoy this is to focus on the eggs, cheese and vegetables.
Thinking about this, the Israeli breakfast is not less strange than other breakfasts. Its appeal to Israelis is in its familiarity, and to tourists – in its novelty. Most people are not used to raw vegetables on their morning plates.
Takeout is an inevitable part of city life. Often, we are too tired, lazy or hyper to cook. When one’s vegetables are delivered to one’s door, it doesn’t happen often, but still, there comes a time when you pick up that box or bag or folder of leaflets and browse through them, searching for something that the good city restaurateurs can haul over to your doorstep.
Such, indeed, was my mood a few days ago, when I picked up the Tel Aviv Food Book, proclaiming itself to contain menus for most of the restaurants in Tel Aviv. Now, we are very fortunate here in this respect; there’s more than pizza and MG-laced Chinese. The city has hundreds of wonderful food digs and many of them offer deliveries.
However.
However, the offerings in the vegan/vegetarian/whole grain department are pathetically slim. I assume there’s not much demand: folks who like wholesome food have often gotten used to making it themselves, thus diminishing the supply market for such foods. But wouldn’t you occasionally like someone *else* to bring you your quinoa bowl? Also – it’s possible that health food is considered snobbish and expensive; but so are many of the extravagant items on the menu, and whole grains and beans don’t have to be expensive, at all.
So, here are some of the things I was disappointed with.
1. I *know* there are organic restaurants in this city. I’ve *eaten* in them. Why no deliveries?
2. Is it too much to ask for Chinese and Indian restaurants to offer steamed brown rice, in addition to the white rice? I’d be willing to pay more and I bet many others would, too. It could make a whole lot of difference for me. One Indian place already does deliveries with brown rice; others should join.
3. It’d be kind of fun for those of us that eat eggs to be able to order Shakshuka from eggs that don’t come from chicken coops. Again: there are people who care about this. Would anyone pick this idea up?
4. How about marking the menus, to let us know which dishes are vegetarian/vegan and which aren’t? We hate being pests and asking on the phone “does this have meat?”. Yes, there are people who won’t eat the soup if it’s chicken broth. Yes, there are people who want to know if there are eggs in the cake. Why not help them out?
5. Sometimes, generous restaurants give us really nice offers: if we order a certain value of food, we get desert – free! That’s really nice of them. Would it be possible to ask them to extend that good will, and offer a free small salad, or water, instead? Some people in this town are diabetic, and it’d be really nice to treat them to something as well, if they spend a lot of money ordering food from your establishment.
6. We can deal with paper containers. No need to produce and consume all this plastic. How about that? And, while we’re at it, most of us can, and will, use our own cutlery. The less plastic in this world, the better.
Thank you for your attention, restaurateurs of Tel Aviv; there are many, many great options for folks who eat locally and ethically, here, if they want to eat out. All we need to do is stretch them out a bit, so they apply to folks who order in, as well.
Heyya, folks, gather round and I’ll give you a lecture that has as much to do with sociology (one of my other loves) as it does about food.
How can you tell if one is sick or healthy? With many physical diseases, it’s not a difficult task. If one coughs, sneezes and feels awful – they have a cold or a flu. Things get somewhat trickier in the world of mental illnesses. Sure, popular culture is saturated with examples of extreme psychoses, but less serious patterns – neuroses and disorders – raise a lot of issues. And like many other things, defining a certain set of behaviors as an illness is very much a matter of politics.
Mental disorders appear in a special guide called the DSM. The DSM lists a series of symptoms, and clinicians are supposed to see how many of them are manifested in the patient, in order to establish whether or not a disorder is present (here, take a look). Naturally, the disorders don’t just appear in the newest DSM edition by themselves; many professionals have to acknowledge them as such, and there is much controversy about which behaviors and phenomena are and are not included in it. For example, part of the struggle for gay rights recognition had to do with removing homosexuality from the list of disorders in the DSM.
Why am I telling you this? Because in recent years, some controversy has arisen over a certain set of behaviors, which some people would like to see defined as a disorder. They call it “Orthorexia”, which, in literal latin means “correct appetite”.
According to Steven Bratman, who coined the term “orthorexia” and wrote about it in his book, Health Food Junkies, the disorder consists of a pathological obsession with eating healthy food. For an orthorexic, adhering to rigid nutrition disciplines becomes the focus of life. Eating healthfully and “correctly” is seen as a moral, or even spiritual, virtue; the orthorexic might graudally limit his or her consumption of foods, trying to achieve a “purer” state of being. An orthorexic often feels superior to others who eat a less healthy diet. When “falling off the wagon” and eating something unhealthy, the orthorexic experiences a deep sense of guilt and engages in various health-rites of penance such as fasting.
Now, there’s no much sense in defining something as an illness if it doesn’t cause harm or suffering. Bratman argues that, in severe cases, an obsession with health food can lead to severe physical damage and even to death. However, even when things are less tragic, limiting oneself to what one deems to be extremely healthy food can seriously impair one’s life. People who are more attached to their eating regimes than to other aspects of their lives isolate themselves from friends (restrictive eating habits hinder going to lunch together, and so does consistent lecturing about food!), find it difficult to travel and eat out, and become, to a certain extent, slaves of their diet.
Others oppose the medicalization of health food obsession, for various reasons. One of them is that, in general, being a health nut causes no harm. There is no much cause for concern over someone who gets in nutrients, vitamins, minerals, and is interested in wholesome food; that would lead to stigmatizing half of the food blog community, for goodness sake! Cases in which people are taking upon themselves extreme and restrictive dietary regimes could merely be a manifestation of dogmatic, inflexible thinking patterns in general, and not merit a specific disorder title. Moreover, there is no much basis to distinguish between people whose healthy diet is an aspect of their worldview from folks whose dietary restrictions stem from religious decrees (such as kosher or halal diets). What makes one worldview pathological while the other isn’t?
Whether or not you think orthorexia should be medicalized, it’s probably a good opportunity to say here: all in moderation, folks. I’m the last person to recommend polished grains, white sugar and saturated fats, but hey, if you feel like having a good ice cream or a nice bit of delicious chocolate, and it doesn’t hurt you physically, go right ahead and enjoy it. Yes, we should take good care of our bodies, most of the time. Our bodies will reward us by bearing with the occasional treat we have.
To bring this balance to earth, I’ll finish with a short quasi-recipe: Oven fries. As good as, or even better than regular fries. Preheat your oven to 180 degrees celsius. Slice thinly some nice potatoes. Place them on an oiled piece of foil on a baking pan, and sprinkle whatever you like on top. In this house, it’s usually rosemary, garlic and chile peppers, but there’s endless possibilities. Stick in the hot oven for about 35-40 minutes, then munch to your heart’s content. Yeah, it’s carbs. Yeah, it’s not a nutritional powerhouse. But it’s fun. Enjoy.
