#ilovejo

Despite appearances, I'm not currently reading 100 Days of Sodom. I am in France though, and set myself a rather 'sadistic' challenge. I bought a crate of courgettes to prove to the people I live with that they are the most useful and versatile vegetable. I stand by this - we've had courgette ragu, courgette pasta (as in spaghetti made of courgette), courgette salad. All the courgettes. In this post, I'm going to share my favourite 2 courgette recettes with you. Spicy courgette cake and a Middle Eastern summer classic: muttabal kousa. The most important thing to remember with courgette cooking is that you can literally do anything with it

Courgette Cake

So, this took 2 of the 27 courgettes off my hands. Grate them and set to one side. Now, you make your cake. The courgette acts as you binder and moistener, so you don't use any dairy and whilst there is flour in the cake - obvy - it is super healthy. The measurements - and a slight alternative - I used can be found here: http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/19067/spiced-courgette-cake.aspx. However, do not use apple sauce and you definitely don't need to worry about brown or white sugar. Also, forget the pecans: walnuts work way better. Anway - my recipe and that don't differ all that much so don't worry if you don't like my ideas.

375g plain flour (+ backing powder and bicarb - handily in France they come together in 'cake sachet's) should be added to 400g of white caster sugar and 220g of demerara sugar. If you have no brown sugar to hand, don't worry. For those that like their cake super moist, you can substitute it for a few teaspoons of honey, or just use an extra 200g of white caster (note the difference!). Add in plenty of ground cloves, cinnamon and mixed spice - I don't give a fig about this whole 'teaspoon of x spice' blah blah blah - just add however much you want as it's your cake.

Beat together 4 eggs and, if you can find it, onion jam. The reason I use onion jam rather than apple sauce or anything is that I think the sweet onion flavour works much better with the courgettes and the spices, in particular. Whilst the apple enhances the 'Christmas' idea behind this, we're in summer and the onion makes it much fresher.

Fold this eggy jam into the mixture and then do the same for the courgettes. The mixture should turn from powder to raw cake mix basically instantly. The courgettes have all the requisite liquid in, alongside the eggs. The jam, as I discovered when I attempted to leave it out, is actually integral to making it work. Do not try to go without.

Add the extras, like chopped walnuts or glace cherries of whatever takes your fancy and pour into the greased pan. Cook, as you would any other cake, on about 190degrees FAN for about 30-40 minutes, or until it is set (i.e. when you can put a fork on top and it bounces back).

This is your final product:

Your cake should be dark all the way through. Beware - it is sticky, so make sure to be careful and let it cool before you remove it from the pan. Everyone scoffed at this idea: they soon ate their words - and another helping.

Muttabal Kousa

This is Syrian, and definitely one of my favourite dips. It's niche and rare, so this is one of the only recipes for it on the internet - I've looked for others. The story behind it is that I ate this once in Amman and loved it. In a quest to recreate it, I searched far and wide, but to no avail. Here is my not-half-bad reconstruction.

Like many other Middle Eastern dishes, this should not be eaten straightaway, but, rather, left in the fridge for perhaps a day, in order for the flavours to really coalesce. This is a delicate balance of cinnamon, mint and courgette and makes for my favourite warm weather, summery dip. To be eaten with pitta, or pasta or on salad or anywhere really.

Ok, Ok. I know this is not the most appetising photo in the world. However, in my defence, I was so desperate to get stuck in that I didn't have time to simper and fawn all over it in my best Nigelle impersonation. Unfortunately, my idol and I do not share the same ability to make the ugliest food sexy. Yet, trust me, this may not look amazing, but it just tastes of the sweet summer that we long for.

Take your courgette - perhaps 2 of them - and peel them. Then chop them to tiny tiny pieces. You must all chop 2 small onions in the same way and 3-4 cloves of garlic, depending on your taste. Fry the garlic and onions in lots (cholesterol? Obesity epidemic? Get stuffed...) until the smell is exquisite and the onion translucent. Add the courgette, alongside plenty of salt (who cares about your blood pressure... I don't!) and black pepper (or white, which would, I think, work better - sadly, none to hand). 

Stir and stir and stir your courgette gently round the pan. Now that the courgette (after perhaps 20 mins) is thin and soft and very edible and smelling fantastic, chop up some rosemary and some fresh mint. Add the fresh herbs and stir. Add about a teaspoon and a half of cinnamon - or however much you feel is appropriate - and continue to fry for a further five minutes.

Take the courgettes off the heat and roughly blitz with one of those hand held processors - do NOT blitz all the way like in the above photo, just so that it is mixed in well - my second attempt was much better. Stir in 2 tablespoons of creme fraiche, or natural yoghurt. Leave to cool and eat the next day, straight from the fridge. Like with the hummus, the muttabal kousa takes a day to really get there. 

So, I'm in France. Not content to sit tight with duck confit and raclette, I have taken to bringing the culinary delights of my year in Jordan with me. I'm staying with a lady who lived in Morocco for 19 years - she knows what good Arabic food should taste like. I decided to show her the hummus I had picked up in Amman - the style, CarrefourJO assured me, is Royal Hummus. 

It has a sweet and spicy flavour, due to the inclusion of both honey and cumin with the chickpeas, tahini and lemon juice. Firstly, as ever with these thick tahini based dips, you must mix equal parts tahini paste with lemon juice - try and squeeze in some bits of lemon and lemon zest as well, to make it super citrus. To be fair to the French, their ingredients are usually delectable. Their tahini paste is incredibly average and really quite expensive. Tant pis, hein.

Once you have your tahini and lemon juice, add about 1/2-3/4 of a tablespoon of cumin (yes, plenty - but, be sensible. You've probably guessed I'm not big on measurements with food that's not cake - use your taste buds to tell you how much to put in, so add it slowly until you feel you've put enough in). Then squirt in some honey. The mixture *should* be (very) thick and to taste sour at first, moving to sweet and spicy at the back of your mouth. The flavours at this point should be incredibly strong. 

Now, leave it in the fridge for at least an hour - notice how we haven't even added our chickpeas yet! You want a good jar, probably about 300g of chickpeas. Separate the jar into 3 and conserve a *tiny* portion of chickpea juice - seriously, what is that stuff in the jar?

Add your first third of chickpeas to the mixture and whizz with a handheld food processor (i.e. one of those sticks with a shard thing on the end). pour in lots of olive oil. Whizz again and add the second set of chickpeas. Put back in the fridge for the night.

So, my last few days in Amman are approaching. Thank-God you might say - a return to the land of pork and plenty. England, that milk-and-honey alcohol a-plenty, bacon guzzling land. No more smelly foul or Guava juice (my personal least favourite fruit and juice is the increasingly popular Guava, found ubiquitously in Jordan). 

A recent trip to Beirut reafirmed my belief that Turkish-Arabic-Caucasian-Greek food is simply the best. You cannot beat it. This swathe of land between Greece and Armenia and between Yemen and Turkey, has produced some of the finest culinary products the world over. Hummus, falafel, kibbeh - to name just some that you may have heard of before.. All favourites of mine. I want to take you on a ten-point-tour of my favourite offerings from these lands, hopefully incorporating some regional specialities along the way.

I will end my time in Amman on a whirlwind restaurant tour, trying to sample some more of my favourite Jordanian delights, before I return to a constant offering of Corn Beef Hash, Fish and Chips and Chicken Tikka Masala.

1) The Arabic Hummus.

Arabic hummus is made slightly differently to its Greek counterpart. Whereas the Greeks favour a grainier, coarser texture, the Arabs have developed a much smoother paste. A simple recipe for hummus is to mix tahini sauce and lemon juice together in a bowl, forming a thick paste. Then add some chickpeas, some cumin and some coriander, alongside the world's best friend: salt. Whizz these together using your food processor - it is much harder without; I guess you could try mashing it? Add some oil (a healthy glug of olive oil never hurt anyone) and a dash of water - I recommend about 1.5 tbsp worth - to make it thinner. 

The beauty of hummus is how you can flavour it. Lemon and coriander. Roasted red pepper, Onion and balsamic vinegar - and these are just a few of the styles I have tried. Hummus, the ever popular dish, I fear I shall not meet you again in your best form until my next return to the Middle East. Let's face it: Brits really do mess it up. Adieu, universal dip of choice. 

2) Muffarakah bilBiyD - A.K.A. potato and eggs.

I remember walking into the hole-in-the-wall pokey cafe next to our institute one Winter's morning, freezing in about 6 layers, with a stomach fit to eat itself in hunger. Never had I tried their food - where they prepared it I know not, as the cafe  was only big enough for about 6 people, and invariably there were about 5 customers. I had always stuck to a simple Turkish Coffee, its mud texture attributable to the 'stringent' cleaning practices the cafe undertook. However, this one morning I looked at their food menu and saw 'Maffarakah bilBiyD' scrawled in English at the bottom. The cheapest - therefore, the best, surely!

Well, it made it's way into my heart and throughout that cold, cold Winter you could see me often chomping on such a sandwich. The stodge was unbelievable - potatoes, eggs, bread - heaven! Having explored Amman's culinary scene extensively (more to come), I often go for this dish out now, as it really is a winner and usually comes with meat as well. 

It is basically fried onions, meat, potatoes and eggs and in tiny cubes. If you ever see this on a menu, have it. I guarantee you'll never cook it!

3) Mansaf.

Where would Jordan be without its Mansaf? Mansaf, Jordan's national dish, is a very serious business. From Tefila to Irbid, Aqaba to Amman, Mansaf is enjoyed as a long and luxurious feast. In its essence, Mansaf is slow cooked lamb, sat atop a heap of slowly cooked rich and pine nuts, which is itself sat atop some thing bread. You finally pour over the jameed sauce - ranging from a thin sauce (Amman style) to a thick cheese (Southern style), jameed is made from solidified goat's milk and can be found at all supermarkets.

The rice is cooked in ghee and absorbs all the wonderful fatty flavours from the clarified butter. The meal's preparation takes hours. In Amman, you want to head down to Al-Quds or its neighbour Jabri for a cheap and semi-authentic Mansaf, whilst Sufra, one of Amman's high end restaurants, offers a much more tamed version, although one portion is still big enough for three! Anyone who tried this dish falls in love with it - give it a go!

4) Yalange.

Yalange, better known as vine leaves, is another personal favourite. Whilst I have always preferred the meat-stuffed vine, the Jordanian lemon-stuffed is also a favourite. Personally, I have never undertaken this monumental challenge myself - vine leaves on average take about 2-3 hours to make - I lap them up at any opportunity. In fact, I even spent 7JD (About £6.50) on a huge tin of them to take home - what a bargain!

5) Sujuk, Nakanik and other sausages.

Armenia, a land rich in cuisine and culture. I have always dreamed of doing a tour of Armenia and Georgia, such beauty can be found in their landscapes, their cultures and their languages - but more importantly their food.

Sujuk and Nakanik are both spicy forms of sausage found in this region. As it is made with beef, there are no food restrictions on this type of sausage, meaning it is enjoyed in the same way as bacon and pork sausages are. Often served with eggs for breakfast, I like to have Sujuk most as part of the hot mezze before any meal. I discovered this type of sausage in Ash-Shami in Oxford last year, and knew as soon as I had it that I loved it. Whenever I order Sujuk, I dream of that future holiday I will take to Armenia.

6) Sambousek.

Cheese, meat, spinach. Sambousek is really the most versatile of pastries. Personally, I think Georgian and Armenian cuisines will be the next big thing on the food scene - why not, they are perfect! Sambousek is an Arab variant of Georgian pastries, they sort of resemble an Indian samosa. 

Now loved across the region, my personal favourite comes stuffed with a gooey yummy melt-in-the-mouth cheese. They are crispy and warm and really hit the spot when you want a quick snack or, again, as part of the hot mezze. Whilst I have not seen spinach ones in Jordan, the meat sambousek is devoured as much as the cheese one, with a spicy warming aftertaste that leaves you perfectly satisfied by this Eastern delight.

7) Mana'eesh/Manaqeesh/Mana'ouche/Manageesh.

I, frankly, don't care how you spell this. The Mana'eesh is the perfect breakfast. The 'Arabic pizza' is often how it is described, and I can guarantee that it is a hell of a lot nicer than it's popular Italian counterpart. The best Mana'eesh I've had here would be the one I bought on the way to Church in Jabal Alluwebdeih. This tiny sunk-in-the-ground bakery appeared in front of me. All I could smell was egg, cheese, za'atar, tomato - I knew I was walking into second-brekkie teritory. 

Second breakfast was exactly it. I ordered myself a positively mind-boggling cheese and egg Mana'eesh, sat down and made my way through it with delectable delight - I got so wrapped up, I only made it to Church down the road 5 minutes before the start of Communion. Oops.

This breakfast really is a must-have. You can find it in many styles - in Lebanon, I've had it cooked on a Saj oven (a large dome) even. The za'atar variety is probably the majority favourite in the region, but, in my opinion, you can never have enough cheese.

8) The Lemon and Mint.

On a hot start-of-Summer's day, I suddenly found myself wandering around Jabal Alluwebdeih (my favourite Jabal, if you're interested) without very much to do. Settling myself in Jafra - one of my favourite eateries - I ordered my first lemon-mint since the end of October. I had almost forgotten what this fabulous drink tasted like. Sharp, sweet and soon-drunk, I've been a regular lemon-mint drinker since.

It's a drink I've never seen in England - sharp lemon juice, equal parts with mint ground up with ice. It's a slushie, but so much more. Jordan's weather had truly become just-bearable - and only when you have a nice lemon-mint.

9) Mutable.

Mutable will always rest associated with some of my favourite memories in Jordan. Early on in the year, we all attended a cooking course at Beit Sitti (meaning Grandma's House - how sweet) where we learnt how to make a mutable. Cooking the aubergines on an open flame until the skins become blackened and crispy, you remove the skin and ass to a pre-prepared mixture of lemon and tahini. The aubergine, cut up very small, added to the mixture creates a wonderful dip, akin to hummus. The finishing touch is a spoon or two of yoghurt and about 5 cloves of garlic. Truly, truly glorious.

The funny is that after this cooking course, I challenged my teacher to a dual: how can make it best - obviously forgetting that she had made it on average about 10 times. Resoundingly she beat me, yet since then I have grown to perfect my mutable, with it becoming a central place on every dinner we have held since. Guests love it. You'll love it. Try it!

10) Mouhammara.

Aleppo's answer to the dip. Mouhammara has become my favourite dip over the year, well surpassing mutable and hummus. I first tasted this beautiful dip on a drip to Istanbul, where culinary delights equally grabbed be my the throat. Subsequently only having it twice more, perhaps its paucity in Jordan has made it my highest rate dish - who knows?

The dish itself is roasted red pepper mixed with pomegranate molasses, walnuts, garlic and lemon. The end flavour is simply indescribably good. Sat in King Hussein Park stuffing my face with my friend Emily' muhammara and my mutable will always remain one of my favourite Jordanian picnics - her muhammara was overwhelmingly more popular than my mutable, I can tell you! The final time, Fakr Al-Din, Jordan's most 'exclusive' restaurant, also proved to be a hit - I had so much muhammara that I could barely eat the beautifully grilled lamb I had ordered - don't worry, I made my way through it regardless.