Israeli food, and a recipe for Roasted Aubergine (Eggplant) with Feta

 I'll be eating lots of Israeli food in the coming few days, together with few other foodbloggers from England, France and the US, and you'll bound to hear much more about it. In advance of the foodie journey, we were all sent a gorgeous coffee-table/cookbook by Riga-born and Israel-based food writer and cookbook author Janna Gur, called The Book of New Israeli Food: A Culinary Journey. I've been browsing through the book and sticking enough yellow post-it notes on the pages to give my family and friends menu ideas till Christmas. The first dish (and certainly not the last one) I tried was a little number with roasted aubergines/eggplants.

Lovely on some rye bread crisps!



Please keep your fingers crossed that this Nordic foodie won't collapse under the Israeli sun - the dry heat is somewhat intimidating, I must admit. Nordic summers with about 20 Celsius and few degrees above that are what I'm enjoying most, you see, but sometimes we need to challenge ourselves, especially in the name of good food and good company ;)

Roasted aubergine with feta 
Serves four to six



2 firm medium-sized aubergines/eggplants, rinsed
200 g feta cheese, crumbled
4 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
a pinch of sumac
a pinch of dried oregano or marjoram leaves
3 chopped spring onions
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Roast the rinsed eggplants either on an open flame (if you've got a gas grill) or simply in a hot oven until soft and blackened. Cool slightly, then peel (discard the skin) and mash the roasted flesh with a knife and/or a fork.
Add the crumbled feta cheese and olive oil, season with sumac and oregano (I used a close relative, marjoram). Add the chopped spring onions (I used a mixture of chives, green onions and Siberian garlic chives from my garden), season to taste with salt and pepper, if necessary.


Note: if you season the aubergine/eggplant flesh while it's still slightly warm, then the flavours are absorbed much better!

Serve at once or cover and keep in a cool place until ready to serve. 

Other bloggers cooking from this book:
David Lebovitz tried the Tu bi'Shvat Cake
Family Friendly Food baked the Apple, Cinnamon and Walnuts cake
Noshes, Thoughts and Reves made the Beetroot and Pomegranate Salad

NB! Note that you can follow Nami-Nami foodblog updates - and my other food-related tweets - in Twitter now: https://twitter.com/#!/PilleNamiNami

Holiday baking: Rugelach with prune filling

It's been a over a year since I made some delicious rugelach-cookies with hazelnut filling. After seeing a very talented young American pastry chef, Heidi Park (now based here in Tallinn), sharing her recipe for rugelach-cookies in a local food magazine, I felt the urge to make these again. I used my old recipe, and adapted the filling from Martha Stewart's recipe for Prune Rugelach.

Very pleased with the final result, so sharing it with my dear readers :)

Rugelach with Prune Filling
(Rugelach-küpsised ploomitäidisega)
Makes 32 small pastries

For the pastry:
200 g butter, softened
200 g full-fat Philadelphia cream cheese, softened
2 tsp caster sugar
200 g all-purpose/plain flour, sifted
a pinch of salt

For the filling:
200 g dried plums/prunes
100 ml brandy or cognac

Breadcrumb mixture:
4 Tbsp breadcrumbs
4 Tbsp caster sugar
0.5 tsp cinnamon

For glazing:
1 egg white, beaten with a little water

On the night before:

Pour brandy over the prunes and let soak for up to 24 hours.

Cream the warm butter and cream cheese until well blender. Beat in the sugar, then stir in the flour and salt. Mix until the dough begins to hold together, press into a ball, wrap in clingfilm and chill overnight in the fridge.

On the day of baking:
Combine the breadcrumbs, sugar and cinnamon.

Puree the prunes with the brandy until smooth.

Divide the dough ball into two and return the other half into the fridge. Roll out the pastry on a slightly floured surface into a thin circle about 25 cm /10 inches in diametre. Using a sharp knife or a pizza-wheel, cut into 16 equal wedges.

Brush the surface of the wedges with half of the prune puree, then sprinkle half of the breadcrumb mixture on top, spreading evenly as you go. Using your hand or a rolling pin, press the filling tightly down into the dough (there seems to be a lot of filling, but it'll make the pastries only nicer!).

Carefully roll up each wedge tightly, starting from the wider, outside end. You'll end up with 16 mini croissants. Brush with egg white wash.

Cover a baking tray with parchment paper and bake at the middle of a preheated 180 C/350 F oven for 20-30 minutes, until the rugelach are golden brown.

Leave to cool slightly, then transfer to a wire rack.

Repeat with the second half of the pastry - even straight away or on the following day.

Rugelach, rugelach, rugelach

Few weeks ago a friend of mine from Toronto, Melissa, came to visit me. Melissa and I both did our postgraduate degrees in Edinburgh in year 2000, after which she left first to her native South Africa and then moved to Toronto to do her doctorate. She had promised to visit me on several occasions since she left Scotland, and we even managed to meet up at a conference in London at one point. Now, finally, she - and her beautiful 9-month old daughter Natali - came to Estonia for a brief, 8-day visit.

And this gave me an opportunity to try some Jewish recipes I had been wanting to try for a while. You see, Melissa is Jewish, who keeps kosher. And she's vegetarian. In this Land of Pork Chops Served with Cheese Sauce, it was easiest for us to eat at home. And one night, I baked us a batch of Rugelach. Rugelach - when said with a low, husky voice, and repeatedly, sounds sweet and funny (at least little Natali seemed to think so!), like something out a fairy tale, so I was thrilled to be finally making them.

And they sure were moreish - sweet, flakey, fragrant, and very, very tasty. I adapted a recipe from Clarissa Hyman's book The Jewish Kitchen: Recipes and Stories from Around the World. Note these are not parve/pareve or 'neutral', as they contain cream cheese, so don't serve them after a meat meal, if you're trying to keep kosher.

Hazelnut Rugelach
(Rugelach)
Makes 32 small pastries

For the pastry:
200 g butter, softened
200 g full-fat Philadelphia cream cheese, softened
2 tsp caster sugar
200 g all-purpose/plain flour, sifted
a pinch of salt

For the filling:
100 g finely ground hazelnuts or walnuts
50 g soft brown sugar
5 Tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tsp cinnamon

For brushing:
25 g butter, melted

For glazing:
1 egg white, beaten with a little water

Cream the warm butter and cream cheese until well blender. Beat in the sugar, then stir in the flour and salt. Mix until the dough begins to hold together, press into a ball, wrap in clingfilm and chill overnight in the fridge.

Combine the ground nuts, brown sugar, cocoa powder and cinnamon.

Divide the dough ball into two and return the other half into the fridge. Roll out the pastry on a slightly floured surface into a thin circle about 25 cm /10 inches in diametre. Using a sharp knife or a pizza-wheel, cut into 16 equal wedges.

Brush the surface of the wedges with melted butter, then sprinkle half of the nut and cocoa mixture on top, spreading evenly as you go. Using your hand or a rolling pin, press the filling tightly down into the dough (there seems to be a lot of filling, but it'll make the pastries only nicer!).

Carefully roll up each wedge tightly, starting from the wider, outside end. You'll end up with 16 mini croissants. Brush with egg white wash.

Cover a baking tray with parchment paper and bake at the middle of a preheated 180 C/350 F oven for 20-30 minutes, until the rugelach are golden brown.

Leave to cool slightly, then transfer to a wire rack.

Repeat with the second half of the pastry - even straight away or on the following day.

Sesame and Lemon Chicken Recipe

Somebody somewhere commented that my blog is very nice, but a bit baking-heavy. Well, I cannot help it. I consider myself to be a much better baker than a cook. And with Christmas around the corner, I'll be baking and baking and baking. According to the traditions, one must have seven different types of cakes and cookies on the Christmas table, so I must obey - and keep up a certain reputation I've acquired among my family and friends:)

But just to show I can cook as well, I'm going to post a non-baking recipe today and tomorrow. Tonight I start off with a very easy supper recipe for Sesame and Lemon Chicken. I discovered the recipe from a tiny cookbook by Tami Lehman-Wilzig & Miriam Blum, called "The Melting Pot: A Quick and Easy Blend of Israeli Cuisine" - a gift my friend Hille brought me back from her trip to Israel few years ago. I've made this dish couple of times, and can really recommend it. Again, I love the easiness of this dish, the subtle lemon flavour and the crunch of sesame seeds in my mouth. And I know that kids like this, too - I've checked!

Aitäh raamatu eest, Hille!

Sesame and Lemon Chicken
(Sidruni-seesamikana)
Serves 4



4 small to medium chicken fillets
half a lemon
0.5 tsp salt
0.25 tsp black pepper
1 egg
6 Tbsp plain flour
3 Tbsp sesame seeds
3 Tbsp breadcrumbs
vegetable oil for frying

Flatten the chicken fillets slightly by placing them between two sheets of clingfilm and gently beating them with a rolling pin. Place in a large shallow dish, season with salt, pepper and lemon juice on all sides. Cover and leave to marinate for half an hour in a fridge.
Break the egg into a soup plate, whisking it a little.
Place flour into another plate.
Mix sesame seeds and breadcrumbs on the third plate.
When ready to cook, toss the chicken fillets, one after another, in the flour, then quickly dip into the egg, and finally press into the sesame seed mixture, to ensure they're covered evenly.
Heat oil in a large skillet/frying pan over moderate heat, and cook the chicken fillets on both sides until golden brown and cooked through.
Serve with lemon slices, steamed rice and some steamed broccoli or other vegetables. Or simly with some dressed salad leaves.

Bagel is a doughnut with rigor mortis?*

* p. 90 in Claudia Roden's book The Book of Jewish Food: An Odyssey from Samarkand and Vilna to the Present Day (Penguin Books, 1996). Sounds cool, doesn't it?

My first challenge as a new member of the Daring Bakers was to make bagels. Not just any bagels, but Real Honest Jewish Purist's Bagels according to a recipe chosen by Jenny of All Things Edible and Freya of Writing At The Kitchen Table.

Bagels, in addition to being a doughnut with rigor mortis (alias chewy and dense and just a bit hard), were the staple bread of the Jews in Eastern Europe, especially in Poland (though they originate in Southern Germany). Since then bagels - especially lox and bagels - have become the most famous Jewish food in America, and a popular breakfast dish for non-Jews as well. I've never had the New York bagels, which are supposedly the best in the world (something in the water, apparently), but I did have some in Scotland over the years. I began with the six-packs available at one of the large supermarkets (not too bad to my novice bagel-tastebuds), and during my last year in Scotland I often picked one up from the Bagel Factory kiosk at the Waverley train station (so much better that the supermarket ones; I always opted for the salt beef & gherkin topping). Until I've tasted the NY bagels, I rely on Clarissa Hyman's description of a perfect bagel in her The Jewish Kitchen: Recipes and Stories from Around the World (Conran Octopus, 2003): "I am a purist when it comes to bagels: they should be crisp and glossy on the outside, soft but still satisfyingly chewy inside".

How did mine compare? They're far from perfect, I must admit, but then we have both eaten quite a few of them, so they're far from disaster as well. They're glossy alright, and definitely chewy. But shapewise, I found them a bit flatter than I remembered, and they weren't as smooth as I wanted.

May I present my first ever bagels - vesikringlid alias 'water kringles' in Estonian - with four types of toppings:


Starting from the top left corner, moving clockwise: caraway seeds, Maldon sea salt, Kalonji black onion seeds (also known as nigella seeds, read more here), sesame seeds.

The shape of the bagels - a small circle with no beginning and no end, and with a hole in the middle - represents the eternal circle of life. There are two ways to get the all-important hole: a dough-centric (you roll the dough into a long 'snake', then press the ends together) and a hole-centric way (roll the dough into a small ball, press your finger through to make a hole). I used the hole-centric way of making holes:



Then you boil the bagels first in some water which has been seasoned with syrup or sugar (malt syrup would be the first choice, but I used dandelion syrup instead; mine were all 'floaters', I must admit), then brush with egg wash and sprinkle with your chosen topping (see first photo above), and then bake until golden in the oven. (And then cool, halve and schmear with your choice of topping).

I got 22 reasonably-sized bagels instead of the 15 prescribed ones:



Although the Daring Bakers were allowed to get all creative with the fillings, we opted for the popular lox & bagel topping (bagel, smoked salmon, cream cheese and a sprig of dill). Note that this is not the 'traditional' bagel filling. Quoting Clarissa Hyman again, "The bagel met its life partners, smoked salmon and cream cheese, in the New World. ... [this is] a marriage made in heaven. Which is why the egg and bacon bagel will always end in divorce". I wanted to be on the safe side, so smoked salmon and cream cheese it was:



Clarissa suggests few other schmears in her book, which I'll keep in mind for the future bagel-baking extravaganzas: avocado & egg schmear, cheese & dill schmear and Liptauer schmear.

Now, I wonder what the next Daring Baker challenge - hosted by Peabody - will be like?