E is for Egypt

E is for Egypt

Well, I may as well stop this project now because I don’t think it can get any better. Who gives a hoot about what delights Morocco could have offered? Hey, Turkmenistan – whatever you sellin’, I ain’t buyin’. Jog on, Peru, you’re wasting your time. Lithuani-WHO? No pals, Egypt has it. The perfect food. And it should come as no great surprise that the greatest and best of all the foods features the greatest and best of all the food groups: carbs. Carbs, carbs, carbs with a few more carbs chucked in for good measure.

However, before I lapse into a carbohydrate-based reverie, let’s zip back quickly to the E’s. It’s a fairly eclectic bunch (not dissimilar to my own family, actually), stretching from way up there in the chilly Baltics (Estonia) to the somewhat more agreeable climates of Ecuador and Equatorial Guinea. Upon first glance, I was very tempted with Ethiopian cuisine. I’ve eaten it a few times over the years and every time marvelled at the delicious genius that is injera, a kind of cross between a buckwheat pancake and a crumpet that’s used simultaneously as a plate, spoon and spectacular element of a meal in its own right. I have very fond memories of being the only guest in a small Ethiopian restaurant in London once, trying desperately not to clap my hands and do a little ‘yehhhh so tasty’ dance with every bite, as I was acutely aware that I was being scrutinised by the owner and the chef the whole time.

As much as I want to try and make injera myself one day, ‘E’ simply had to be Egypt. One of the greatest ancient civilisations known to man must have some good grub knocking around. I mean, how else did they get the energy to build them there pyramids? Wasn’t bloody Red Bull, I’ll tell you that for free! Not only did I have deep faith that the nation that invented hieroglyphics would deliver in a BIG way on the food front (not that those two things are related in any way), I also received a couple of mild words of encouragement (read: threats) from some Egyptian friends: basically, if I didn’t make something Egyptian, it was friendship over. And so here we are.

In all honesty, I wasn’t really sure what to expect of Egyptian cuisine. I figured it would be a bit of a mish-mash of other North African and Middle Eastern cuisines, with some Mediterranean bits and bobs making an appearance. Anyone who has ever been to my house for dinner knows very well that Middle Eastern food is my go-to style. I manage to sneak tahini into almost everything that passes my lips, even if it doesn’t belong there (tip: put it in porridge – yassssss), and I’ve come to the conclusion that all foods fall into two categories: foods that taste better with more butter, and foods that taste better with tahini. Happily, I’d been reliably informed that tahini definitely makes more than a fleeting cameo in Egyptian cuisine, so I was sure I’d made the right choice – bring on all dat hummus!

After a bit of research and probing people in the know, it turns out Egyptians – in general – really like bread. In fact, so deep is the love and appreciation for the stuff that the local bread (apparently known as eish masri or eish baladi, or just baladee if you’re in a rush) takes its name from a Semitic root word meaning “to live/to be alive”. So bread really is life for these guys. Not only that, but authority would have it that the Egyptian government subsidises bread! Believe or not, this seemingly harmless scheme was even accused of being a political tactic by the former National Democratic Party to buy off the working classes in a bid to gain wider acceptance of the authoritarian system. It’s baguettes at dawn, people!

But wait, what if I don’t like bread? Will I starve? Will my weak and feeble body wither away at the foot of the Sphinx, simply unable to carry on any longer in this bread-loving nation? In a word, no. In a few more words, sort your damn life out – everyone likes bread, you nut! No, even if you are foolish enough not to like it, there is plenty more to please the palate along the banks of the Nile. Think juicy kebabs, silky baba ghanoush, Egyptian-style moussaka, ful medames (a dip of mashed fava beans) and glorious, beautiful shakshouka (a tomato and egg dish they – apparently - nabbed from Morocco). All of these are no doubt shining examples of the wonders of Egyptian cuisine, but there is one dish that comes heads and shoulders above the rest; one dish that seems to send Egyptians to their happy place, all misty eyed and drooling at the very thought of it. That, my friends, is kushari.

Considered by many to be the national dish of Egypt, kushari is not for the faint-hearted. If you’re on a diet, steer clear of this bad boy, as it will have you weeping at the sight of what goes into it. Which is what, I hear you say! Well, picture in your mind those food pyramids you used to see at school: with all the sugar and fats at the top, then all the gorgeous fruit and veg at the bottom. Somewhere in there is the carbohydrate layer – zoom in on that for me, would you? Now, just take out bread and potatoes from that heady mix and you more or less have the list of ingredients for kushari. Macaroni? Check. Spaghetti? Check. Vermicelli? Check. Rice? Check. Lentils? Checkity check check check. At some point, someone seems to have thought this lot alone might be a hard sell, so they wisely decided to give a faint nod to vitamins in the form of a rich, cumin-spiked tomato sauce and some (albeit fried) onions. At this point, you might be thinking that this just sounds like a drunk person’s attempt at spag bol (spaghetti bolognese for non-Brits) but kushari has a secret weapon that elevates it to a whole other level, takhdi’ah. This is an unbelievably tangy addition of lime juice, garlic and some of the tomato sauce, made separately and added at will to the final dish. No word of a lie, when my guinea pigs (people, not actual guinea pigs) and I sat down and took the first mouthful, the word ‘hallelujah’ was bandied about, specifically in reference to the takhdi’ah. Getting a spoonful of kushari is everything you could ever want from a food – soft, sweet, crunchy and zingy, all at once. It’s the perfect comfort food, making me believe for a moment that I’d spent my childhood eating steaming bowls of it from our old crockery at home. It also has the magical property of potentially being both the perfect drunk and hangover food. Not many foods can claim that!

So guys, if you don’t see another entry on this blog, you’ll know why. There’s just no way to top this week. Ok, I’m moving to Egypt now. BYE!