Sand Opera Lenten Journey Day 20: The Original Recipe from the Abbasid + Delights from the Garden of Eden by Nawal Nasrallah
The prophet sent him the message:
“Go and wash seven times in the Jordan,
and your flesh will heal, and you will be clean.”
“Go and wash seven times in the Jordan,
and your flesh will heal, and you will be clean.”
--2 Kings
Happy Leap Day! We’re heading back to the Recipe poem from yesterday,
and to share also the text that was its original inspiration, which comes from
Nawal Nasrallah’s Delights from the Garden of Eden. Although Lent is a
fast time, Nawal’s work reminds us of the centrality of food as nurturing, as
healing (like the waters of Jordan), as care for the soul. She even wrote a
post on her blog about Lenten dishes in the Middle East! See here: http://nawalcooking.blogspot.com/2014/04/lent-dishes-from-caliphs-kitchens-to.html
Amy and I
have been honored to eat at her table (the subject of tomorrow’s post). One
simple thing you can do for an Iraqi today is buy her amazing cookbook! It can also be purchased here at iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/ book/delights-from-garden- eden/id1084418702?ls=1&mt=11
Recipe from
the Abbasid
Skin & clean a fat, young sheep & open it
like a door, a
port city hosting overseas guests
& remove
its stomach. In its interior, place
surveyors in
exploratory khaki, a stuffed goose
& in the
goose’s belly, a stuffed hen, & in the hen,
machine gun
nests, C rations, grenades, a stuffed
pigeon, & in the pigeon’s belly, a stuffed thrush,
& in the
thrush’s belly, contractual negotiations
& subtle
threats, all sprinkled with sauce. Sew the slit
into a smile,
dispatch handshakes. Add Chevron,
Exxon, Texaco,
Shell. Place the sheep in the oven
& leave
until this black slimy stuff, excretion
of the earth’s
body, is crispy on the outside
& ready for
presentation.
“Recipes not
for the Faint of Heart” by Nawal Nasrallah (reprinted
from Delights from the Garden of Eden)
Here
is a recipe of a royal dish, which I found in 13th-century anonymous
cookbook Anwa’ al-Saydala fi Alwan al-At’ima (A Compendium of Dishes
and their Health Benefits) of Muslim Spain, which was greatly influenced by
the haute cuisine of Baghdad during the Abbasid period. The recipe gives
directions on how to prepare a stuffed calf.
Take a fat young male sheep, skin and
clean it, then make a small opening between the thighs, and carefully empty the
cavity. Next, insert a grilled goose, and stuff the goose with grilled chicken.
Inside the chicken, put a young pigeon, in the pigeon's belly put a grilled
starling (zurzour), and inside the starling put a grilled or fried
sparrow (‘usfour). So all these you put inside each other, all grilled
and basted with the sauce [mix of murri ‘fermented sauce,’ olive oil,
and thyme].
Now sew closed the stuffed sheep, and
roast it in a preheated tannour oven until browned. Baste it with the
above mentioned sauce, and stuff it in the cavity of a cleaned and prepared
calf. Sew closed the calf, and let it roast in a preheated tannour oven
until browned. Take it out and serve it. Intaha (that’s it).
If
you think that the medieval gourmets with their cooks went a bit too wild, then
listen to this: It seems that the trend of stuffing poultry with poultry is the
latest gourmet fad in the United States of nowadays. The dish is called
"Turducken." It is a Thanksgiving turkey stuffed with a duck, which
in turn is stuffed with a stuffed chicken. The trend came from the south where
there is a long tradition of stuffing a bird with a bird. What brought this to
the attention of people was a Wall Street Journal article in 1996 just before
Thanksgiving, featuring a company that prepares turduckens. Immediately after
that, we are told, the company received 10,000 orders a day, and the company
sold 25,000 turduckens for Thanksgiving. Devotees think its taste just blows
your mind, skeptics think the idea is disgusting, and paranoids think it is a
bacterial contamination nightmare. What do you think?
“The
Pied Piper” Summoned by Nawal Nasrallah
We
all rushed at the Pied Piper summons,
Promising
a feast like no other.
A
roasted lamb, falling off the bones,
Mightily
stuffed with goose, a hen, a pigeon, and a thrush,
Succulent
with dripping sauces.
You
shall be intrigued, he promised.
The
crowds, the confusion, the deafening drums, we all descended,
whether
we believed in it or not. The path was steep.
What
is this stench? That “black slimy stuff?”
He
said that’s the earth’s body, friends, “crispy on the outside, and ready” to
eat.
That’s
your feast. Dig in!
And
the feast, dear fellows, was shoved down our throats that day.
In
zero health.
How
times have changed.
Wasn’t
it like a thousand years or so ago,
When
the Pied Piper summoned us back then
Promising
a feast like no other?
You
shall be intrigued, he promised.
There
awaits you guys, including ye party crashers,
The
stuffed, the hidden, the buried, the shrouded, the suffocated, you name it.
And
we followed, clamoring with the music of drums and tambourines.
There
were those though who stayed behind, for they were suspicious of names.
But
we who made it there, were indeed intrigued,
The
stuffed eggplants, misleading the eaters with their perfect shape,
As
if nothing has been done to them,
The
meatballs with egg yolks hidden inside,
The
stuffed zucchini buried in sweet and sour sauce,
The
pastry rolls shrouded in sheets of dough,
The
kunafa noodles suffocated with syrup,
And
the crown jewel of all stuffed dishes, a grilled lamb in a roasted calf hidden.
Inside
the sheep, a goose stuffed with a grilled chicken,
Inside
the chicken, a pigeon, with a starling stuffed,
Inside
which a sparrow hidden.
All
oozing with succulent delight.
And
coxed by the Abbasid epicure al-Baghdadi’s sermon on the pleasures of food,
We
did indeed enjoy the feast in two healths, back then,
How
times have changed.
5 comments:
Baghdadi Specialty
The knock comes just like the buzzing
drone on its second, inevitable round,
just like the starlings in Irbil’s winter
fixed on fallow sesame-flecked fields,
mist nets spread to trap glossy black
bodies tipped in snowy white satin.
The cell door opens to dogs, their entry
held fast as fear rises same as adrenaline
in the bodies of two remote-controllers
surveying same as the farmers zeroed in
on the mob of birds, some to be seasoned
for Baghdadi tables, some soon set free.
Fear in the cell smells no less than fire
on the ground, each strike as sure of effect
as the separated skin of the skewered birds.
To think of food and its miraculous effects is one way to make war and carnage less intimidating. Perhaps this is what the abbasids did after 1258, the year Baghdad was destroyed by the Mogols.
Thanks for sharing the poem!
Everyone has to eat!
Agreed! Thanks to all for the comments.
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