Palestinians don’t cook for two... they cook for
INGREDIENTS:
(SERVES FOUR)
60ml olive oil;
4 garlic cloves, crushed; 50g coriander, finely chopped; 2½tsp fish spice mix (see below); ½tsp chilli flakes; 4 large cod loin (or another sustainably sourced white fish), skin on (about 700g); 4 large fresh bay leaves (optional); 2 lemons: cut one into 8 very thin slices, and quarter the other lengthways into wedges to serve; About 4 tbsp/65g tahini sauce (optional – see below) to serve; Salt and black pepper
Makes just over 2tbsp – just stir all ingredients together 2tsp ground cardamom; 2tsp ground cumin; 1tsp paprika; 2tsp ground turmeric 230°C fan. Put two tablespoons of oil in a pan on a medium-low heat. Cook the crushed garlic for 10 seconds, then add the coriander, fish spice mix, chilli flakes, a quarter teaspoon of salt and a grind of black pepper.
Cook for four to five minutes, stirring often, to soften the garlic, then remove from the heat.
Place the cod in a parchment-lined roasting dish, skin side down, and brush with the remaining two tablespoons of oil. Season lightly with salt and pepper then spoon the coriander mix on top of each fillet, then top each one with a bay leaf, along with two slices of lemon. Roast for seven to eight minutes, or until cooked through.
Serve at once, with a tablespoon of tahini sauce drizzled over, and a wedge of lemon alongside. or what Gaza means, and actually we want people to see that life goes on and people are making a living and doing interesting stuff with food,” says Tara. “There’s a world there and a life we want people to explore, eat from and celebrate.”
Palestinians, says Sami, are aware that tourists take “religious buses to visit the holy sites, but are not eating or stopping there.
“They never see the real life,” he says.
As such, “all the good food’s happening in people’s houses,” says Tara – and between the profiles and recipes in Falastin, they hope to bridge the gap, by introducing us to Palestinian food and flavours, while showcasing the glorious things Palestinians do on a daily basis.
Mainly though, “it’s about getting everyone to the table and sharing,” says Tara.
The duo have known each other for around a decade. “I spent a couple of days in the kitchen with Sami and I remember him phoning Yotam, asking, ‘Who is this girl? Where has she come from? She is not a professional chef’,” recalls Tara mischievously. “The first time I tried preserved lemon around Sami, I thought it tasted like soap. Little did I know that was the beginning of my culinary epiphany.”
Working on Falastin together did, she notes, seem a “possibly incongruous fit” at first because “I ain’t Palestinian”. But their combined, yet different perspectives, she says, make it work: Tara, the home cook who is still discovering Palestinian cuisine, and Sami the professional chef, who is “rooted in Palestine”.
The book’s such a love letter home, looking back to this country he left.” It’s a “tussle” notes Tara, but one that’s “useful” for the reader.
And yes, they have been known to argue, but on some issues, they are very much in agreement, like supermarket imitations of falafel. “It’s just awful if people think that’s falafel – and hummus should be warm,” says Tara.
“It’s shocking, we need to be able to campaign to get falafel only freshly fried,” says Sami.
“They fry it in front of you so it’s piping hot – this is the way we eat it!”
“How Palestinians eat is at its core,” notes Tara, and Sami adds: “You don’t cook for two people, you cook for 20. It’s open house – you never know who is going to come and it’s a big no-no not to have enough food for everybody.
Being able to lay on a spread at a moment’s notice is the norm – think pickles, olives and thick, green, grassy Palestinian olive oil, honey, cheese, bread, salads, seasonal mains, dips, shatta (a chilli condiment).
“And people help themselves,” says Sami. “There’s no ‘my’ plate or ‘your’ plate – this is what is wonderful about it.”