Ghriba cookies

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It doesn't matter if you know them by Ghriba, Rayvah or Jrieva these cookies are addicting. When I make them I have to hide some so that my family won’t devour them before they are chilled. I can’t really remember the first time I ate them, it seems as if they were always there, part of my mom’s Shabbat cookies. Over time I forgot about them.

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Puff Pastry Ground Beef Roulade

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 Puff pastry ground beef roulade was dad’s dish, meaning a dish that dad would prepare. He called it the lazy man’s bourekas. Usually, the kitchen was mom’s kingdom, but in times that dad took over the cooking, he used to prepare his signature dishes, and one of them was the roulade.

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Black Lentil Yam Salad

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One of the things I like most is finding new recipes or revising old recipes. When we host or are being hosted, these are the times when the joy of creation rests upon me and I turn the guests into guinea pigs for dishes I have never made before. One of the times last year that that we were invited to friends, I asked what we should bring, the answer was a salad. “What do you think about black lentil yam salad?” I asked my better half. “Yam?” she looked at me playfully, “isn’t that one of the vegetables that you don’t eat?”

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Moroccan Fish Patties in Tomato Sauce

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One of the strongest memories of my childhood years is my mom standing next to the table in our small, narrow kitchen. At the end of the table is a cast iron meat grinder, edging slightly passed the side of the table. Beneath the opening of the grinder is a deep bowl. Next to the grinder there were plates with onions cut into quarters, garlic cloves, parsley, cilantro, slices of bread that were soaked in water and squeezed, and of course, meat. Except on Fridays, on Fridays, pieces of fillet of fish replaced the meat. As if in a ceremony,
  

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Stuffed Drunk Turnip in Tamarind Sauce

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“What is it?” my younger son asked me, looking at the plate I placed in front of him. “Lefet” I answered. “Lefet?” he repeated after me with a puzzled look. “Turnip” I said, “Turnip in Hebrew is Lefet”. Even though he speaks Hebrew fluently and when needed he can read and write too, there are still words that I have to translate for him.
 

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Tanzia

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Tanzia we ate at grandma’s, my father’s mother, the one my sister is named after. In our family, there are three Shimons, two Hannas and two Shulas, so whenever one mentioned the name Shimon it was always accompanied with uncle Moshe’s Shimon or Aunt Simmi’s Shimon. For some of my cousins I am still uncle Shalom’s Shimon today.
 
 

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Lachmajoon (meat pie)

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Usually, I try to avoid eating carbs. This is not an easy task, because I really love pastries. Bourekas, pizza, empanadas, eggrolls, dumplings, cakes, cookies...I like almost anything wrapped with, baked or fried dough. The biting aroma of baked goods that fills the house makes my taste buds tingle and throws me back to my childhood Fridays and to my mom’s homemade bourekas, cakes and cookies that we used to eat while they were still warm.

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