Passport & Plate - Mahshi with stuffed vine leaves
Sudan | Friday, March 6, 2015 | 4 photos
Ingredients
Exterior:
These are listed for the sake of choice. You can use the vegetables of your liking.
7 small eggplants
6-7 small zucchinis
6-7 small/medium capsicums
2 banana peppers
(each a Vegetable and together, the Vegetables)
5-10 vine leaves
Stuffing:
3 cups of medium grain rice, washed and soaked in water
500 g of minced beef (lamb)
300 g of beef (lamb) chunks
2 tsp salt
2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1/2 tsp chilli powder
2 tsp dried mint
2 tsp baharat (spice mix)
2 tsp homemade garlic paste
2 cans of diced tomatoes
2 tbsp olive oil
Condiments:
3 lemons
2 tbsp pomegranate molasses
1 tsp of salt
Natural yoghurt (as desired)
How to prepare this recipe
1. Traditionally, a special tool called a 'manakra' is used to hollow out the Vegetables. However, with a deft touch it’s possible to do the same with a small knife. Wash the Vegetables and then cut off their stalks, leaving the capsicum and banana pepper tops aside for later.
2. Remove the innards of each Vegetable, creating spacious pockets that you will put the stuffing in.
3. Wash the fresh vine leaves and put them in hot water to soften.
4. Prepare the stuffing by mixing the rice, meat, salt and pepper in a bowl. If you’re planning to roll the vine leaves, take 2 handfuls of this mixture, and leave it aside. If you’re not using vine leaves, skip this step and mix everything together straight away. Add the rest of the stuffing ingredients to the mixture and knead to ensure consistency.
5. If using vine leaves, place each vine leaf, smooth-side down, on a work surface and place 1-2 teaspoons (depending on the vine leaf size) filling in the centre along the base of the leaf. Fold in both sides, then roll up tightly to enclose filling.
6. Fill each Vegetable with the stuffing, leaving 1-2 cm free at the top for the rice to expand. This is easier to do it by hand, keeping a bowl of water on the side to wash off your hands every so often. Cover the capsicums and banana peppers with the tops you left aside.
7. Grab a large, deep frying pot, add olive oil at the bottom and put the beef (or lamb) chunks to cover it. Then arrange all the stuffed vegetables on top of the meat, standing up. Don’t let them fall. Put the vine leaves in the spaces between them.
8. Squeeze the lemons and mix the lemon juice with half a cup of water, pomegranate molasses and salt. Pour this mixture on top of everything arranged in pot.
9. Cover the pot with a lid and bring to boil. Simmer over medium to low heat for about an hour.
10. Serve with yoghurt and sauce from the bottom of the pan.
11. Eat with satisfaction and lick your fingers afterwards.
The story behind this recipe
“I know that smell”, said Bill, as the aroma gently coerced its way into his mind’s eye, tickling the memory from the deepest recesses of his consciousness.
The Sudanese sun bore down, unflinching in its duty, as it sought to cast its rays over every inch of the tired, scorched earth. Cowering in what little shade eluded the all seeing eye, he sat on the porch waiting, wanting, as each droplet of sweat escaped his skin like an un-welcome houseguest. It had been said once and often in this most inhospitable of climates - “I’m too hot to be hungry.” Agreeing with the sentiment, Bill defiantly swiped his hand across his forehead, allowing his brow a momentary respite from the heat and moisture, as he thought, ‘There has to be something better than this’. As if answering this silent plea, his nose captured the distinctive fragrance of his mother’s signature dish. An intoxicating amalgam of citric zest and stocky beef, he was called from his melancholy musings, as he dismissed the oft-uttered fallacy; too hot to be hungry? Yeah right.
Rushing inside, he fumbled through, over and around every obstacle, all in the name of being first to the dinner table and having his pick of the mahshi. As he reached the dining room, his legs froze, anchored to the spot even as his arms and torso flailed forward to halt his momentum. Each and every seat at the dinner table was occupied by a familiar young face; kids from the neighbourhood. Scanning each of them with a scrutiny befitting a border guard, he checked them off his list. Nour, Hind, Joe, Karam, Betty and …who was the last one? The one who smiled nervously and blushed under his piercing gaze. That she was going to eat his food was forgotten. But her…
“I’ll never forget her”, said Bill wistfully. Curiosity piqued, I opened my mouth to ask him; whatever became of her? Why did you never marry, Uncle Bill? But the moment was gone, as the familiar rolling fragrance called us to dinner and left the past obscured…for a while.
