The Stirring Life

No yeast, no kneading, no rising — a yogurt dough folded full of green and black olives, feta, mint and parsley, patted into rounds and baked. A lazy cousin of Cypriot eliotes.

Hamudh helu means sour sweet in Arabic — the Iraqi apricot stew, turned into short ribs over a potato and carrot mash. No tomato and no added sugar; the sweetness is all apricot and raisin.

Slow-cooked beef, tomato and whole garlic with okra, finished with lemon and a little citric acid. Served over rice with toasted noodles. I grew up on Greek bamya and married into Iraqi bamya; this is the Iraqi one.

Twelve rows of everything pink on one platter, with a pink Greek dressing blended with a raw beet. Made for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and for the people who have been through it.

Smoked pimentón, white miso and chili crunch in the dressing, caramelized shallots and the last of the garden chives on top. If you gave up on egg salad twenty years ago, this is your sign.

Spiced beef and browned pine nuts rolled in egg roll wrappers and fried crisp. The full batch makes about 48, and they go straight to the freezer.

A cold tuna and shells pasta salad, old school with a few additions — cornichons, capers, scallions and a lot of dill. It needs a few hours in the fridge before it tastes right.

A 75% hydration sourdough with the walnut-honey baklava filling worked in at shaping, cold proofed overnight and baked straight from the fridge.

You don’t have to guess when they’re done. Loukoumades flip themselves over in the oil the moment the underside is ready — you just stand there and watch it happen. Pull them when they’re brown on both sides, pour the honey syrup over while they’re still hot, and that’s the whole thing.

Sugar and vinegar could never do what date syrup and lemon do. The silan goes in early and takes the whole pot dark and sweet. The lemon goes in at the very last second and cuts straight through it. Root food — nine turnips, twelve cloves of garlic, and something you’re still thinking about two days later.

Hummus used to be my go-to dip, but lately I can’t stop making muhammara. 🌶️ It’s smoky, sweet, made with red peppers and walnuts, and the Aleppo pepper is what really makes it for me. This is what I make when people are already on their way over — five minutes in a food processor, and the pomegranate molasses does all the work. Rooted in Aleppo, with versions all over the Levant.

There’s a version of this you can buy. There’s also a version where you spend a day with your mother-in-law learning how. They are not the same thing.