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29 recipes
Mhadjeb (also mahjouba) are the folded flatbreads of Constantine and the east of Algeria, sold on street corners at teatime and made in every home during Ramadan. A stretchy semolina dough is pulled paper-thin with oiled hands, filled with a jammy stew of onion, tomato and pepper, folded into a square and cooked on a dry griddle until spotted brown. Chef's tip: knead the dough for the full 15 minutes; it must stretch almost transparent without tearing.
Chorba frik is the soup that breaks the fast in Algerian homes every evening of Ramadan, from Algiers to Constantine, and it is just as common in Libya as shorba. Frik is young green wheat, roasted and cracked, which gives the tomato broth a smoky, nutty depth. It usually cooks with lamb; here chickpeas, celery and courgette carry it. Serve with lemon wedges and bread. Chef's tip: add the frik only once the broth is boiling and stir for the first minute, or it sinks and sticks.
Rechta is the dish of Algiers and Blida for Mouloud, Ashura and the first day of the new year: thin, square-cut fresh noodles steamed in a couscoussier like couscous, then drenched in a pale, cinnamon-scented white sauce of turnips, courgette and chickpeas. It is usually made with chicken; this vegetable version keeps the gentle, peppery broth. Dried rechta is sold in North African shops; very thin dried egg-free noodles work too. Chef's tip: steam the noodles twice and rub them with oil in between, so they stay separate and silky.
Makrout el louz are the elegant almond sweets of Algiers and Constantine, piled on silver trays for weddings, Eid and engagement visits. Unlike fried, date-filled makroudh, they are baked: a paste of ground almonds, sugar, egg and lemon zest is cut into diamonds, baked pale, then dipped in a light syrup and rolled in icing sugar so they look frosted. Chef's tip: bake them only until firm and barely coloured underneath; brown edges harden and stop the syrup soaking in.
Qalb el louz ('heart of almond') is the Ramadan sweet of Algiers: a dense, sandy semolina cake with a ribbon of almond filling, cut into diamonds with an almond on top and soaked in syrup while hot. Pastry shops in the Casbah sell it by the tray after iftar, to eat with mint tea or coffee late into the night. The semolina is soaked overnight in butter and water, which gives it its moist, grainy crumb. Chef's tip: pour cold syrup over the hot cake; hot syrup on a hot cake makes it soggy instead of moist.
Chtitha djej is the everyday chicken of Algerian homes from Algiers to Constantine: chicken pieces simmered in a red sauce of paprika, cayenne, garlic and caraway with chickpeas, reduced until thick and clinging. It is mopped up with khobz or matlouh flatbread. The mistake is burning the garlic and paprika when they go into the oil, which turns the sauce bitter; keep the heat moderate and add water as soon as they smell toasted. Chef's tip: add a squeeze of lemon right at the end to brighten the spices.
Couscous royal is the big-occasion couscous that Algerian and Moroccan families brought to France and that is now served for weddings and Sunday gatherings from Oran to Marseille: a pot of lamb and chicken simmered with vegetables and chickpeas in a mildly spiced broth, grilled merguez on the side, and a mountain of steamed couscous. The mistake is putting all the vegetables in at once; the courgettes go mushy while the turnips are still hard, so add them in stages. Chef's tip: brown the lamb and chicken well before the water goes in; that colour flavours the whole broth.
Mtewem, from the word for garlic (thoum), is an old dish of the Casbah of Algiers: chunks of lamb and garlicky beef meatballs simmered together in a peppery white sauce with chickpeas, and finished with whole cloves of garlic that turn soft and sweet. It is cooked for Ramadan and for guests, and eaten with bread. Some families add a little tomato; this is the white version. The mistake is letting the sauce boil hard after the meatballs go in, which makes them tough and break; keep it at a gentle simmer. Chef's tip: wet your hands when rolling the meatballs so they come out smooth and hold together.
Dolma batata belongs to the Algiers home kitchen, where it is a Ramadan favourite and a Friday dish: hollowed potatoes filled with beef mince, onion, parsley and cinnamon, fried until golden, then simmered in a pale sauce (marqa beida) of onion, chickpeas, black pepper and cinnamon. The sauce stays white because no tomato goes in. The mistake is hollowing the potatoes too thinly, so they split in the pot; leave walls about 1 cm thick. Chef's tip: fry the scooped-out potato flesh and add it to the sauce to thicken it.
Xawaash (pronounced 'ha-wash') is the spice mix every Somali kitchen keeps in a jar, used in rice, soups, stews, sambuusa fillings and even tea. Families toast and grind their own, often in quantity before Ramadan, and the balance of warm cumin, earthy coriander and sweet cardamom and cinnamon varies from house to house. It is different from Yemeni hawaij and Ethiopian berbere: there is no chilli in it. Chef's tip: toast each spice only until it darkens a shade and smells warm; burnt cumin turns the whole jar bitter.
Bariis iskukaris ('rice cooked together') is the centre of the table at Somali family lunches, Friday gatherings and Eid, from Mogadishu to Hargeisa and Somali neighbourhoods in Nairobi, Minneapolis and London. Long-grain rice is cooked in one pot with onion, tomato and the house spice mix xawaash, and topped with fried onions and raisins; it is usually crowned with goat, but this version cooks carrots, peas and potatoes into the rice. In true Somali style, serve it with a banana on the side and a spoon of green basbaas. Chef's tip: rinse and soak the basmati so the grains stay long and separate.
Canjeero (also called laxoox) is Somali breakfast, made fresh each morning in homes and sold in cafés from Mogadishu to Djibouti: thin, spongy pancakes from a soured batter, cooked on one side only so the top is full of tiny holes. Eaten warm, they are drizzled with sesame oil or ghee and sprinkled with sugar, then rolled up with sweet spiced tea; on weekends they come with liver or beans. They are smaller and lighter than Ethiopian injera and made mostly from wheat. Chef's tip: spread the batter in a spiral with the back of the ladle, starting in the middle; that is what makes the thin, even, lacy sheet.
Xalwo is the sweet of Somali celebrations: weddings, Eid and the arrival of guests are all marked with a tray of this dark, glossy, chewy confection, cut into diamonds and served with coffee or spiced tea. Sugar is caramelised, then cooked slowly with cornflour and oil or ghee while the cook stirs without stopping until it pulls away from the pan. It is a cousin of Omani and Yemeni halwa. Chef's tip: stir constantly and keep going until the oil starts to separate and shine on the surface; stopped early, xalwo stays soft and does not set.
Basbaas means chilli in Somali, and basbaas cagaar, the green sauce, is on every Somali table, spooned over rice, pasta, sambuusa and grilled food. It is sharp, hot and fresh, and every family has its own balance of chilli, coriander and lime; some add a tomato to soften it. Make a jar and keep it in the fridge all week. Chef's tip: add the lime juice to the blender before the chillies; the acid keeps the sauce bright green.
Suqaar is the quick beef dish found everywhere from Mogadishu tea shops to Somali cafés in Minneapolis and London: small cubes of beef or lamb browned with onion, peppers and garlic, seasoned with xawaash, the house spice mix of cumin, coriander, cardamom, cinnamon and turmeric. Somalis eat it for breakfast with canjeero (spongy flatbread) or for lunch with rice or pasta. The mistake is cutting the beef in big chunks, which go chewy; cut it into small 1–2 cm cubes so it cooks fast and stays tender. Chef's tip: add a squeeze of lime and a handful of coriander just before serving.
Maraq digaag is the gentle chicken stew Somali mothers make on ordinary weekdays, and the one people ask for when they are unwell: chicken simmered with potato, carrot, tomato and green pepper in a light broth fragrant with xawaash and garlic. It is served with rice, canjeero or bread for dipping. The mistake is boiling it hard, which makes the chicken stringy; keep it at a lazy simmer. Chef's tip: stir in chopped coriander and a little lemon at the end to lift the broth.
Skudahkharis is the pride of Djibouti and is also cooked in Somali homes: lamb on the bone simmered with tomato, onion, garlic and a warm mix of cumin, cardamom, cinnamon and cloves, then rice cooked in the pot until it absorbs every drop. It is served for Eid and family gatherings, with banana and a hot green chilli sauce on the side, as is the custom. The mistake is stirring the rice once it is in, which breaks the grains and makes it sticky; stir once, then leave it covered. Chef's tip: soak basmati for 20 minutes before cooking so it cooks evenly in the rich broth.
Sambuus are the triangles of crisp pastry Somali families fry by the hundred during Ramadan, filling them with minced beef, onion, green chilli, coriander and xawaash; trays of them sit on every iftar table from Hargeisa to Toronto. The filling must be dry, and the pastry thin. The mistake is a wet filling, which steams the pastry from the inside and makes it soggy; cook the mince until all the liquid has gone. Chef's tip: shop-bought spring roll pastry, cut into strips, makes good thin sambuus at home.
Paraguayans love telling visitors that their national 'soup' is eaten with a fork: sopa paraguaya is a dense, moist cornbread baked with sweated onions, fresh cheese, eggs and milk. It's on every table at asados, weddings and the Christmas meal, and sold in squares at bus stations from Asunción to Encarnación. The crust is golden and the inside soft and cheesy, more like a savoury pudding than bread. Chef's tip: soak the cornmeal in the milk for 15 minutes before mixing; hydrated cornmeal bakes up tender instead of gritty.
In Paraguay you hear 'chipa, chipa!' called by vendors with big baskets on buses and street corners, and every family bakes it for Holy Week, when chipa is the food of Good Friday. Cassava starch, a little cornmeal, butter, eggs and a lot of hard cheese are kneaded into a dough scented with aniseed, shaped into rings or small rolls and baked in a hot oven, traditionally a domed clay tatakua. It's chewy, crisp outside and best warm with cocido (toasted yerba tea). Chef's tip: the dough should feel soft and slightly greasy; add milk a spoon at a time, as too much makes the chipa spread flat.
Mbejú (say 'mbeh-JOO') is a Guaraní breakfast and merienda: cassava starch rubbed with butter, cheese and a little milk into damp crumbs, then pressed into a hot pan where it fuses into a thick, chewy, crisp-edged cake. It's eaten in the countryside with cocido (sweet toasted yerba tea with milk) on cool mornings, cut into wedges. It's naturally gluten free and very quick. Chef's tip: the mix should look like damp sand, not a dough; if you can squeeze a handful and it just holds, it's right.
Chipa guasu (Guaraní for 'big chipa') is sopa paraguaya's softer cousin, made from fresh corn instead of cornmeal. The kernels are grated or blended into a milky purée and baked with onion, cheese and whipped eggs into a tender, gently sweet bake that rises and wobbles. It's a summer dish at Paraguayan asados and fiestas patronales (saints' days), eaten beside grilled meat or simply with a tomato salad. Chef's tip: fold in the whisked egg whites last; it's what makes chipa guasu light and puffed rather than dense.
Vori vori is the soup Paraguayan grandmothers make on cold June and July evenings: a golden broth full of bori, small balls of cornmeal and cheese that swell soft as they simmer. The name is a Guaraní take on the Spanish 'bolita' (little ball). It's usually made with hen; this version gets its colour and body from pumpkin, carrot and a sofrito with saffron or turmeric. Chef's tip: shape the balls no bigger than a hazelnut; they double in size and larger ones stay raw inside.
Chajá was created in 1927 at a bakery in Paysandú, a city on the Uruguay River, and named after a local bird whose feathers look as fluffy as its crumbly meringue coat. Today it's Uruguay's birthday and celebration cake: layers of light sponge soaked in peach syrup, filled with whipped cream, peaches and dulce de leche, then covered in crushed meringue. It's sweet, soft and crunchy at once, best on the day it's assembled. Chef's tip: soak the sponge but not too much; it should feel moist, not wet, or the layers slide.
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Algerian
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