Passport & Plate - Muhammara
Syria | Monday, March 2, 2015 | 4 photos
Ingredients
3 red bell peppers, roasted, skin removed
1 cup walnuts, toasted
? cup panko bread crumbs, toasted
3 teaspoons pomegranate syrup*
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 garlic cloves
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
½ teaspoon paprika
½ teaspoon cumin
1¼ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
5 tablespoons olive oil
*Pomegranate syrup can be found at Middle Eastern markets or the Middle Eastern / Ethnic Foods section of other grocery stores. Despite the limited quantity of this ingredient in the dish it should not be excluded as the flavor is critical to bringing the dish together.
How to prepare this recipePlace all ingredients in blender or food processor and blend until smooth. Reserve some bread crumbs, walnuts and red peppers to adjust final flavor and consistency to your taste.
Consistency
The final consistency should be similar to hummus or baba ghanouj where it is a thick paste that will hold its form if moved with a spoon but still has a liquid quality that allows it to be poured slowly with the gentle help of a spoon. If consistency is too watery add extra bread crumbs and if too thick add extra olive oil (or red peppers depending on taste as their water will also make dish more liquid).
Flavor
The final taste should be a layered flavors starting with a distinct pepper taste, followed by a nutty earthy flavor from the walnuts, and ending with a slight spice. If any of the flavors is missing add a little bit more, blend, and taste again. If all the flavors are muted add a little salt and lemon juice.
The story behind this recipeDeep in the old quarter of Aleppo, the host leads us to our table. Aleppo's location on historic trade routes exudes from the geometric tiled walls and the ornate bubbling fountain centering the entire building, in the traditional Syrian style. Moments after sitting down, a sea of mezzes, dips, and salads pour onto the table. Some we recognize, but what catches my eye is a mysterious red dip garnished with pomegranate seeds. The waiter informs me the dip is called "muhammara," which roughly translates to "reddened." The dish confuses and delights my taste buds while I try to figure out what ingredients produced such an interesting combination of sour, spice, and earthiness.
Months later, I encounter this dish again, by chance, during a cruise up the Nile. I track down the chef who, surprised and flattered by my request, handwrites his recipe in Arabic for me. Mafish muskila (no problem), I think to myself, my 4 years of Arabic training had to be good for something. Back home, I translate most of the recipe except for one small ingredient which, after too many failed attempts, I conclude is the key ingredient. Years pass before I find muhammara again, in a restaurant in Madison, Wisconsin, of all places. The chef informs me of exactly what I’ve been missing all these years: pomegranate molasses. The slight tang and sweetness provide the perfect balance to the earthy walnuts, with pepper flavors rounding out the dish. Finally, I can recreate this elusive dish, and be transported back to the bubbling fountain in the old city of Aleppo.
Good dishes, to me, have the ability to take me back to the time and place when I first tried them. Muhammara connects me back to a special moment in a time and a place that will never quite be the same. While the very restaurant that introduced me to muhammara may currently lay in rubble, as long as I have a bottle of pomegranate molasses, I can always keep the beautiful memory of Aleppo, and its classic dish, alive.