A very special sandwich
I was taught to make this gorgeous hearty snack on my trip to Israel and the West Bank last year. I urge you to try it.
Welcome again to Pen and Spoon! I wrote this piece and worked on the recipe after visiting Israel and the West Bank late last year. It recalls a few days I spent in Nazareth, whose population is roughly two-thirds Muslim, one-third Christian. The issue of the magazine that commissioned the piece has been delayed but I thought it was a good time to share it here. This one is free to everyone. Warm wishes, Sue X
Pass through the stone arch at the northern entrance to Nazareth’s souq, head down the cobbled lane and turn left past the stalls piled with fruit and vegetables, and you’ll likely find Noora swathed in a veil of spicey, meaty smoke.
Proprietress of Old City, a new street food café in Nazareth’s ancient market, Noora barbecues good things to eat on her charcoal grill. Ruby-red ribeye steaks. Fat-rimmed pinwheels of lamb breast on skewers. Lamb, beef and chicken kebabs, blushing with seasoning. There’s no menu, just point to what you want.
But I’m more interested in what Noora is turning with her tongs. My Arabic is non-existent and her English limited, but vivacious Noora is pleased to explain that she’s making juicy, fat-oozing, fragrant Palestinian sandwiches called arayes. And, patiently, she shows me how it’s done.
First Noora stuffs a mixture of lamb and beef mince, chopped parsley, salt and pepper into pita bread, then flattens the packet gently with her palm. She stabs both sides of the sandwich all over with a skewer, dunks front and back in a foil tray of olive oil and sprinkles over salt, pepper and spice.
‘What’s in the spice?’, I ask Noora as she transfers the sandwich to the grill over gentle coals. But she shakes her head. “Can you give me a clue? Cumin? Cinnamon?” She stares me down in a friendly but resolute, no. I’ve poked around numerous kitchens on my trip through the region and I know there’s no point pressing her: cooks here sometimes prefer to keep their spicy secrets to themselves.
Noora does reveal she only recently opened her café in the souq, which spreads throughout the streets of the Old City like a spider’s web. Her decision to start a business here is further evidence of the slow but steady revival of this ancient quarter, until recently dark, abandoned and unvisited.
Most of us know Nazareth as the childhood home of Jesus and a place of pilgrimage for Christians. But its significance is more than biblical. Only by a twist of fate did Nazareth survive to become the largest Palestinian Arab city inside Israel.
According to the 1947 UN Partition plan, Nazareth was part of the Palestinian Arab state. However, it was conquered by the Israeli Army in 1948, when more than 750,000 Palestinians fled or were forcibly expelled from their homes across what would become the new Jewish state.
But the citizens of Nazareth were allowed to stay. According to accounts, Ben Dunkelman, a Canadian Jewish officer who served in the Israeli army during the Arab-Israeli war, disobeyed orders to expel Arab residents of the city. He secured its surrender on the condition they could remain in situ.
Although Dunkelman’s defiance spared Nazareth, the Old City’s economic fortunes declined and eventually the souq was all but abandoned. But over the past 4 – 5 years, this once dark corner of the city has been revitalised thanks to the founders of the Liwan Culture Café, a social enterprise that opened – bravely, defiantly and alone – to bring Palestinian music, art, food and crafts back to the area.
Other businesses have since followed their lead. Shuttered shops have creaked open to begin new lives as cafes, restaurants, galleries and shops. Vitally, tourists now venture here to explore an increasingly cool and vibrant area.
The evening that I visit Noora’s cafe, hungry customers queue for her food; traders who’ve finished work for the day, and a few tourists, drift in from the souq as night falls. Lighting their way are strings of twinkling fairy lights that criss-cross the alleys and squares, symbolic of the Old City’s emergence from the dark.
Arayas inspired by Noora’s recipe
Arayes is close to the heart of Palestinian activist, chef and cook book author Joudie Kalla, who makes a version her mother, who was born in Jaffa, taught her. “Arayes happens to be my absolute favourite snack,” she says. Hers is a bit more elaborate than Noora’s, but everyone has their favourite way of making it.
“The main thing is it should be simple, delicious and full of flavour,” Kalla says, adding one thing is vital. “You have to use thick fat pita bread for arayes, not the thin stuff, or all the delicious fat and meat juices will destroy it. And there has to be a massive dollop of thick yoghurt on the side and lemon juice to squeeze through the slit of the bread. With every bite, you dip it into the yoghurt. That’s how my family eats it.”
The following is my version, but play with the quantities of spice or follow Jodie’s lead and add chopped fresh chillies and/or a splash of pomegranate molasses to the meat mix.
Makes 4
250g lamb mince, the highest fat content you can find
250g beef mince, the highest fat content you can find
1 white onion, finely chopped
1 garlic clove, grated
1 generous handful chopped flat-leaf parsley
1 heaped teaspoon Baharat (7-spice), plus extra for sprinkling
½ heaped teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon fine sea salt, plus extra for sprinkling
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus extra for sprinkling
3 heaped tablespoons Greek yoghurt
4 pita breads, ideally soft and thick
Olive oil, for brushing
1. Heat the oven to 180C (conventional)/160C (fan) and place a baking sheet inside to heat.
2. In a mixing bowl, combine all the ingredients except the pita bread. Squish with your hands to combine thoroughly.
3. Carefully open up a pita bread. If you’re using lovely soft ones, simply stuff with one quarter of the meat mixture, and flatten gently to spread it out evenly. If your pita are a little dry and unforgiving, slice them in half horizontally with a sharp knife, spread the meat mixture over one side, and top with the other pita half.
4. Poke holes in both sides of the pita with a skewer, brush with olive oil and sprinkle with salt, pepper and Baharat.
5. Heat a griddle pan over a medium high heat and add the sandwiches (you may to do this in batches). Cook until golden and lightly charred underneath. Brush the tops with oil and add more salt, pepper and Baharat. Flip and repeat.
6. Transfer the sandwiches to the hot baking sheet and bake for 5 – 7 minutes, or until the meat is cooked.
7. Serve with the yoghurt and a squeeze of lemon.
This exemplifies good food writing for me. Down-to-earth and very real.