The Hungry Turk

And God Created Corn (And Quinoa)

I’m The Hungry Turk, and I am addicted to quinoa.

I can’t do without it. Its intriguing looks, its fluffy texture and its versatile flavour keeps me asking for more. Now, this post is supposed to be all about corn (and it is really) but I do have to put some emphasis on this mystery seed. I know that there are quite a few of you who are still skeptical about it but when cooked properly, this little Andean gem is delightful (and extremely nutritious), I promise.

So corn. Yes. When I was growing up in Turkey grilled corn sold by street vendors was a treat that my dad and I would go bananas for (we still do). My grandfather also used to boil them at home time to time and I would nibble on those rather coarse kernels with great pleasure. But corn has never been part of the culinary culture that surrounded me. Until recently, that is.

As I landed in North America three years ago, I realised that corn pulled a few more strings here than it did in Turkey. First of all, there is a lot of it! And when in season (now), corn is dirt cheap. So much so that these days I find myself eating corn everyday and trying to figure out what do make out of those stalks  that are still stacked on the kitchen counter. Also, corn in North America is sweet. Very sweet and tender. A few days ago I was telling my mom how I cooked my corn: “just drop them in boiling water, cover, turn off the heat and set aside for 10 minutes”. She couldn’t believe it. The corn I know from Turkey is, how shall I put it, rather stubborn and requires a long cooking time. I didn’t quite dare telling her that I had seen recipes that called for uncooked fresh corn.

So here is to quinoa and corn, my two new BFF.

Quinoa Salad with Corn and Loads of Other Things

I got the inspiration for this recipe from Gourmet Magazine’s encyclopedic cookbook. However, I had a slight grocery list mishap and forgot to get half of the ingredients that were required by the recipe. At the end, my salad turned out to be very different from the one in the book, except for the basic combination of quinoa, corn and cumin.

Serves 2 as a main dish


1 cup mixed coloured quinoa, rinsed thoroughly under cold water
2 ears corn, shucked
3 scallions, thinly chopped
2 Roma tomatoes, seeded and diced
2 large pieces of canned roasted red peppers, rinced and diced
4 tablespoons fresh Italian parsley, finely chopped
⅓ cup (hulled) sunflower seeds
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
½ teaspoon mustard seeds
½ fennel seeds
¼ pound (about 125gr.) feta cheese, crumbled
Juice of 1½ limes
2 tablespoons olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper to season

Place quinoa in a large pot of salted boiling water and cook for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes drain it in a sieve and rinse under cold running water. In the same pot, bring a few inches of water to a boil. Set the sieve with quinoa over the pot and covered it with a kitchen towel (or paper towel) and a lid. Steam quinoa until fluffy and dry (about 10 to 15 minutes). Transfer to into a bowl and let cool down.

Bring a large pot of water to boil and add corn. Cover with a lid and turn off the heat. Set aside for 10 minutes. Transfer corn to a cutting board and cut off the kernels (your knife should be at a 45° angle).

While your corn is cooking, mix all the seeds (including the sunflower seeds) and roast  at 400° degrees for 10 minutes.

Assemble your salad by mixing together all the ingredients in a large bowl (including the corn kernels and quinoa), and seasoning with lime juice, olive oil and black pepper. Mix well and serve.

Quino... What?

Quinoa.

Huh?

Ki-noh-ah

Come again?

…

That was pretty much my reaction the first time I heard about quinoa about three years ago. Native to the Andean region in South America, quinoa started showing up on the shelves of healthy food stores only a few years ago. And it’s healthy, alright. This tiny winy seed is one of the rare plant-based sources of complete protein, it is gluten free and it is loaded with fibres, magnesium and phosphorus. Despite, its grainy looks, quinoa is indeed a seed and belongs to the same family as the good old spinach and beet. During the period of the colonisation of South America, the Spanish favoured the cultivation of maize and potatoes over quinoa (due mostly to the seed’s spiritual stature among the natives and its bitter taste coming from the saponin coating) and that’s why quinoa didn’t make its world premier sooner.

I discovered quinoa right at the time when I was starting to get tired of my inability to cook rice. Now, don’t get me wrong. I know how to boil rice. But for some reason I haven’t quite mastered the art of cooking rice the Turkish way. And to be honest I’d rather not eat rice if it comes down to eating boiled rice. But more on that in a later post.

Back to quinoa.

It’s pretty fuss free to cook quinoa. The only important part is to rinse it well before cooking it to get rid of that bitter-tasting saponin coating (I invite you to Wikipedia what saponin is because my understanding of bio-chemistry is not quite up to the challenge of explaining it here). Then all you need to do is to boil it for about 20 minutes, or until the little seeds start opening up. If you want to be more fancy, you can first boil it for 10 minutes, rinse it under cold water and then steam it for another 10 minutes. This two-part method makes quinoa very fluffy.

I personally like quinoa served along with a stew or in a salad. Also, I tend to purchase both red and white quinoa and mix them together at home for a colourful combination. Here is a bon appétit recipe I made using black quinoa, which, because of its coarser texture, added a nice crunch to this summer salad!

Quinoa, Chickpea and Spinach salad

Serves 6 to 8 as a main dish

 

1½ black quinoa, rinsed (feel free to use any other type of quinoa if you can’t find the black one)

4 cups baby spinach leaves

1 19 oz (540ml) can of chickpeas, rinsed (those cans are packed with a lot of salt that you really don’t need)

1¾ cups English cucumber (the long ones) or 2 small cucumbers, cut into small cubes

1 1-pint container of cherry tomatoes, halved

1 cup fresh mint leaves, torn

1½ cup feta cheese, crumbled

¼ cup sherry vinegar

3 teaspoons smoked paprika

½ olive oil

Place the quinoa in a large pot of salted boiling water and cook for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes drain it in a sieve and rinse under cold running water. In the same pot, bring a few inches of water to a boil. Set the sieve with quinoa over the pot and covered it with a kitchen towel (or paper towel) and a lid. Steam quinoa until fluffy and dry (about 10 to 15 minutes). Transfer to into a bowl and let cool down.

In the mean time place the spinach, chickpeas, cucumber, cherry tomatoes, fresh mint and half of the feta cheese in a large bowl. In a separate small bowl combine the paprika, sherry vinegar and olive oil. Add the cooled down quinoa into the spinach mixture and pour the vinaigrette over. Mix until well combined (the salad should have a red hue). Place the remaining feta cheese on top and serve.

Easy Does It

22.4 kilometers.

Three hours.

Have you ever wondered what 22.4km looks or feels like? Let me explain it to you…

In Montreal, 22.4km is the distance between the corner of Sherbrooke and St-Laurent - where on a Saturday night you will see girls with mind blowing short skirts and boys with outrageously pointy shoes - and Bout-de-l’Île, which is literally the eastern tip of the island of Montreal. Cool people don’t hang out there.

In Istanbul, you’ll have to drive (no fool would walk it, let alone run it), 22.4km to get from Emirgan to Rumeli Feneri.

In Brussels… well, I should really say Belgium, 22.4km is just shy of the distance between Brussels and Leuven. Two separate cities.

If you wanted to avoid paying the taxi ride between Hyde Park and Heathrow Airport in London, you would have to trot about 22.4km to catch the next flight.

I think you get the point.

For me, 22.4km is the longest distance I have ever run. Unfortunately, it will keep its privileged status only until next Saturday, when 25km will take over the gold position.

That’s what I do on Saturday mornings… I go for leisurely jogs.

Spaghetti with Fresh Tomatoes and Zucchini

Food to Live By: The Earthbound Farm Organic Cookbook is the first cookbook I purchased when I moved to Montreal three years ago. The move was a turning point in my life as, in addition to many other things, it was also the first time I was going to live completely on my own. No family, no roommate… just me and the three square foot kitchen. So I had to take things in my own hands and cook for my own survival. This spaghetti recipe is one of my personal favourites. It’s so easy to prepare yet looks so beautiful and tastes so fresh that you can easily fool crowds about how much you laboured over it.

Serves 4

 

2 ripe medium-sized tomatoes, grated

1½ cups cherry tomatoes, cut in half

½ bunch Italian parsley, chopped

Handful of fresh basil, chopped

4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

Pinch of salt

Pinch of red pepper flakes

Freshly ground black pepper (to taste)

1 pack of dried spaghetti (about 500gr/1 pound)

1 garlic clove, minced

2 medium-size zucchini, cut into ¼-inch cubes

 

Place the tomatoes, parsley, basil, olive oil, salt, red pepper flakes and ground black pepper in a medium bowl and let it sit at room temperature until all the flavours mix and develop, at least 30 minutes.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and cook your spaghetti until al dante. While the pasta is cooking, heat some olive oil on a large pan and add the minced garlic. After one minute, add the zucchini and cook for about 5 minutes, until the zucchini have sweated but still have a bite.

Drain the spaghetti and transfer to a large serving bowl. Add the zucchini and the tomato mixture and toss to combine.

Easy does it!

Memories of Summers Past

Sometimes I envy Captain Kirk. Just a few words, “Beam me up, Scotty”, and he’s back in his comfort zone, the USS Enterprise. I do not possess the technology available to Captain Kirk, as a matter of fact not even a plane ticket, but I do have my very own transporter: food!

Last week, I made a dish called batırık, which instantaneously beamed me to Anamur, where I spent most of my summers as a child.

Each morning, after breakfast I would head to the beach to meet my friends. We’d play in the water until either our lips turned purple and our fingertips wrinkled, or I saw my grandmother hanging off her balcony calling me in for lunch. After lunch, I would either help my grandmother with household chores (I loved doing laundry, don't ask why) or take a nap. Besides, you had to be out of your mind to be on the beach or anywhere outdoors between 1pm and 4pm (unless you were a tourist keen to work on that lobster tan).

Around 5pm my grandfather would make his way to the kitchen to prepare tea. No day went by without the 5 o’clock tea. My grandmother would usually fix something to eat, sometimes a cake, sometimes a cheese roll, and sometimes the famed batırık! I always knew that batırık was in the works when I heard my grandfather pounding the walnuts in the brass mortar. The whole front part of the apartment would resonate… bam bam bam!

After teatime I would go out again to play. My friends and I would usually hang out at a playground near the apartment building or cause trouble in its close vicinity. Some days I would head back to the beach with my grandmother around 7pm. By that time the waves would have calmed down and the beach would be pretty much deserted.  A few days a week we would go for a digestive walk after dinner and get the Kahramanmaraş style sticky ice cream. I loved it (and still do). Because of the salep (flour made out of the root of Early Purple Orchid) and mastic used in its preparation, this ice cream is much harder in texture and stickier than the conventional ice cream. The best way to eat it is to bite it. Of course, those with sensitive teeth should not try this at home!

My days in Anamur were pretty monotone… eat, play and sleep. But Anamur was also the place where I was let loose completely and where I was as happy as I could be. Thanks to this low-key coastal town, I had an extended childhood, using the word “play” without hesitation past the age of 12.

Batırık

Batırık is native of the eastern Mediterranean region of Turkey where both my maternal grandparents come from. In Anamur, my grandmother’s hometown, the dish is made with sesame seeds and peanuts, while in Ermenek, where my grandfather is from, walnuts are used instead. My grandparents almost always made it with walnuts but I do have a vague memory of sesame and peanut taste in my head as well. Batırık is more a teatime dish and is especially popular at women’s gatherings. Some people squeeze the water out of it and serve it in bite-sized pieces, but I personally prefer it as almost a soup, served with a few ice cubes, blanched white cabbage and chopped cucumbers. It’s very refreshing and surprisingly filling because of the main ingredient, couscous. The key part in batırık’s preparation is to use a mortar and pestle. I’ve seen some recipes that instruct to use a robot to turn the walnuts (or the sesame seeds and peanuts) into a paste. But this method doesn't let the oil from the nuts to develop and mix into the dish. Also, a lot of people use pepper paste to add a bit of spice and extra colour. I have never seen my grandparents use it, as they were not very keen on heat in food, so I have not used it here. For the extra colour, just use loads of tomatoes.

Serves 6-8 as a teatime snack or 4-6 as a light meal

1 cup medium couscous (called düğürcük in Turkish)

6-8 ripe tomatoes, grated

1 medium onion, grated

1 ½ cup Italian parsley, finely chopped

1 ½ tablespoon mild paprika

1 tablespoon red pepper paste (optional)

2 cups walnuts, lightly roasted and turned into a paste with a mortar and pestle

1 medium white cabbage, roughly chopped and blanched

½ English cucumber, cut into ½ inch pieces

Lemon juice

Mix all the ingredients except the cabbage and cucumber in a large bowl. Combine well (use your hands  to lightly knead it) and set aside for at least 30 minutes. The couscous will absorb the juices from the grated vegetables, swell and soften. Add more paprika if so desired (don’t salt the batırık until it is served individually). Put 4 or 5 spoonfuls in individual serving bowls and add just enough cold water to obtain a very thick soup. Top up with a few ice cubes, and serve with the blanched cabbage, cucumbers and lemon juice as desired.

Runner's Delight

I may be a novice runner but I learned pretty fast that I have to load myself with carbohydrates before my long runs to have enough energy. And what a better way to do it than with pasta? Apart from staying in shape, meeting new people and contributing to a great cause, this whole running experience has encouraged me to try out different pasta recipes. A win-win situation really!

This past weekend was a perfect example of my pasta binging: Pasta on Thursday, pasta on Friday, pasta on Saturday and on Sunday… half-marathon in Ottawa. All that pasta must have done its magic because I ran like the wind. Well, my own little breeze. I beat my personal record and it was all smiles for two hours and twenty minutes.

In honour of the wonder food that got me to the finish line, every weekend The Hungry Turk will feature a new pasta recipe. All comments are welcome and if you have your own favourite pasta recipe that you would like to share please let me know. I’m sure I will need fresh ideas pretty soon.

I’ll start off with this simple yet delicious recipe that my mom used to make. To be honest my memories of it were quite blurry at the start. All I could remember was the intense olive taste. So here is what I came up with. Loaded with green olives and tomatoes, this recipe is perfect for a casual summer dinner party among friends.

Enjoy!!!

 

Pasta Bake with Olives and Tomatoes

Serves 6

 

1 pack of spaghetti (500gr)

1 cup green olives, washed, pitted and sliced (I use olives that are already pitted and sliced, which makes this recipe very easy to prepare. Make sure to wash them to get rid of the extra salt.)

1 garlic clove, sliced thinly

6-7 ripe Roma tomatoes, sliced thickly

1½ cup grated cheese (e.g. mild cheddar, gruyere, aged mozzarella)

Extra-virgin olive oil

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and add your pasta to cook. For this recipe you’re allowed to cook your pasta a little more than al dente. In the mean time, heat some olive oil on a medium pan and add the garlic. Cook the garlic until golden and add the olives. Stir for 4 to 5 minutes, and put aside. Once your spaghetti is cooked, drain it, transfer it back to the pot and toss is it with some more olive oil. Transfer half of the pasta to an appropriately sized baking tray. Layer half of the sliced tomatoes and top it up with all the olives. Add the remaining past. Layer the rest of the tomatoes and cover with grated cheese. Bake in an oven heated at 400°F (200°C) for about 20 minutes, until the top is golden.

I can’t wait until next weekend!!

Çikın Pay

When I was in first year of undergraduate, there were many reasons why I looked forward to going back home. Sleeping in my own bed (my comfortable bed), not having to sanitize the whole bathroom before I went in, having clean dishes when I needed them and knowing that they were not used in some nasty dorm experiment, and the chicken pie. Yes, the chicken pie.

There was a set menu. It never failed. The first night was unmistakably chicken noodle soup and a steak. (I don’t know how I did without eating red meat in the UK for over a year. After a while I gave up, in defeat, and dug in. If mad cow were to get me, I’d get it back).

The chicken noodle soup was the precursor for next day’s meal: the chicken pie.

My mom knew. They all do.

 

Chicken pie is actually an oxymoron, because it has no pie in it. It’s more like a chicken hot pot. The only difference from the usual chicken hot pot is that this one is the mother of all chicken hot pots. No jokes.

Now, I know that there are some people out there who are already smiling because the chicken pie goes way back, and they were there when it all started. Those two words were the first English words that my childhood partner-in-crime and myself learned: Çikın pay.

According to family gossip, my mom got this recipe from my grandfather, who had spent time in the US as a student from the mid-1940s to early 1950s. As a young and hungry man, he had to provide for himself and learned how to cook the American way. Along with stuffed roast turkey, his pool of recipes included a dish called “chicken à la king”, which actually has pieces of white bread in it. I think chicken pie is my mom’s interpretation of this famous “chicken à la king”. But in my books, chicken pie remains the king.

It’s a foolproof way of making kids eat their peas, literally. It has chicken (duh), peas, carrots, potatoes, mushrooms and béchamel sauce. Topped with cheese, it’s every kid’s dream. At least, it was ours.

Here is the famed chicken pie recipe for your Mothers’ Day lunch.

 

Oh I forgot the most important reason: I missed my mom.

Happy Mothers’ Day!

 

Chicken Pie

Serves 8

 

1 whole happy chicken, poached & stock reserved

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

4 tablespoons plain flour

1½  cups hot milk

2 medium potatoes, diced

1 big or two medium carrots, diced

1½ cup green peas

10 button mushrooms, diced

1 teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon black pepper

1½ cup grated cheese (e.g. mild cheddar, gruyere, aged mozzarella)

Wash and pat dry your chicken (make sure to take the giblets out). Put it in a large stockpot and cover with cold water up to two-thirds. Cover and bring to a boil. Once the water starts boiling, turn the heat down to low and let simmer for about 30 minutes. Turn the heat off completely and let the chicken cool down in the pot while you’re preparing the rest.

Make the béchamel. This is the part that requires strong will and muscle power. Melt the butter in a medium saucepan. Once the butter is melted, add the flour and keep stirring (preferably with a wooden spoon) until well combined. It’s ok if the mixture crumbles. Add the first ladle of hot milk and keep stirring. Add the next ladle of milk once the first one has been absorbed completely. Keep adding ladlefuls of milk, stirring continuously and allowing each ladleful to be absorbed completely. By now you should have a very thick sauce. The aim is to have a creamy sauce. This requires about 2 cups of liquid. Make up the rest of the liquid with the chicken stock that you reserved from your poached chicken (you can freeze the rest of the chicken stock for a later use). Season with salt and pepper and keep your béchamel warm on very low hit.

Boil/steam your veggies. First put the potatoes and the carrots. A few minutes later add the mushrooms and finally the peas. Let the vegetables cook until the potatoes and carrots are tender and set aside. I personally use frozen peas and carrots (there is actually a very handy carrot and pea mix in stores).

Now, the dirty part. Shred your chicken to the bone. I know it sounds cruel, but that’s the way it’s done. Use your hands, because you want every piece of meat, no skin. From a medium size chicken you should be able to get about 3 cups of meat, if not more

Add the veggies and chicken pieces into the béchamel sauce and give it a good stir. Taste, and season if necessary. Pour the mixture in a large glass or ceramic dish and top with grated cheese. Put the pan in the oven and cook at 400°F (200°C) until the cheese turns golden, about 20 minutes.

The chicken pies goes very well with rice.

Aaaah…