Being in a cross cultural marriage is like being an adventurer in unknown worlds. I feel, at times. a bit like Richard Burton questing for the source of the Nile. When I got married, my husband (only half joking) said, "First an Arab man loves his mother, then he loves food. Then he loves his wife." I did roll my eyes a bit, but since his mother is lovely to me when we speak on the phone, and always expresses her love for me, the first quality is acceptable.
But food. Oh my dear lord the food. Tunisian food is unlike Gulf food in every way. It's not like I can whip up a batch of hummus and throw some flat bread at him. No. Harissa (a hot chili paste) features in just about everything! There is also what I call the "Tunisian triumvirate" of green peppers, tomatoes, and onions in many things as well. Spices like barat have to come via Tunis, and we keep it in the kitchen by the half kilo it seems. I actually felt a bit panicked when we ran out. Fortunately a sister in law came to the rescue and sent down a large jar of the stuff. As long as I have that, harissa, turmeric, cumin, and ground caraway, I can (barely) manage.
I used to fancy myself a good cook. I've made couscous from a box back in the States and my daughter really liked it. Think that is the way to do it? Nooooo. Think again. Tunisian couscous has to steam above a red sauced meat dish of some kind, then (I guess) some of that red sauce is mixed in, in JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT, to give it that red color so beloved by Tunisians. I despair.
The thing is, I put a lot of stock in food happiness. I want the person I love, my person, to be happy with what he eats. He's a good cook himself, but my white sauced meals don't always thrill. During a recent trip to Muscat, the women in his family cooked for us all weekend, and his jokes about finally eating good food wore thin. I sent more than one hard look in his direction. Gave him the ole gimlet eye so to speak. Hardy har mister. Haaaardy har. I decided I would try, really try, to make something that tastes somewhat North African-ish. With the help of Pinterest (fab app), I nailed a few things recently, Felicia style.
The women in his family make a yummy dish called a tagine. The word tagine covers a seemingly limitless number of foods across North Africa, but this is essentially a frittata. Even Pinterest couldn't really help me with specific directions for this egg dish, but really, how freakin hard can a glorified quiche be? Not very.
This tagine is also my cake of the day. How, you say, can I get away with calling a quichey dish a cake? Well, a Dhofari friend told me they call these tagines cakes. If it has chicken in it, it's chicken cake. How cute is that?
So here, my friends is MY OWN version of the egg and cheese tagine. As for the other cross cultural marital issues, well, good food helps, as does patience from all concerned. After all, Richard found the source of the Nile didn't he? Yah. No. He didn't.
But food. Oh my dear lord the food. Tunisian food is unlike Gulf food in every way. It's not like I can whip up a batch of hummus and throw some flat bread at him. No. Harissa (a hot chili paste) features in just about everything! There is also what I call the "Tunisian triumvirate" of green peppers, tomatoes, and onions in many things as well. Spices like barat have to come via Tunis, and we keep it in the kitchen by the half kilo it seems. I actually felt a bit panicked when we ran out. Fortunately a sister in law came to the rescue and sent down a large jar of the stuff. As long as I have that, harissa, turmeric, cumin, and ground caraway, I can (barely) manage.
Tunisian spice market. You've got to be kidding.
I used to fancy myself a good cook. I've made couscous from a box back in the States and my daughter really liked it. Think that is the way to do it? Nooooo. Think again. Tunisian couscous has to steam above a red sauced meat dish of some kind, then (I guess) some of that red sauce is mixed in, in JUST THE RIGHT AMOUNT, to give it that red color so beloved by Tunisians. I despair.
The thing is, I put a lot of stock in food happiness. I want the person I love, my person, to be happy with what he eats. He's a good cook himself, but my white sauced meals don't always thrill. During a recent trip to Muscat, the women in his family cooked for us all weekend, and his jokes about finally eating good food wore thin. I sent more than one hard look in his direction. Gave him the ole gimlet eye so to speak. Hardy har mister. Haaaardy har. I decided I would try, really try, to make something that tastes somewhat North African-ish. With the help of Pinterest (fab app), I nailed a few things recently, Felicia style.
The women in his family make a yummy dish called a tagine. The word tagine covers a seemingly limitless number of foods across North Africa, but this is essentially a frittata. Even Pinterest couldn't really help me with specific directions for this egg dish, but really, how freakin hard can a glorified quiche be? Not very.
This tagine is also my cake of the day. How, you say, can I get away with calling a quichey dish a cake? Well, a Dhofari friend told me they call these tagines cakes. If it has chicken in it, it's chicken cake. How cute is that?
So here, my friends is MY OWN version of the egg and cheese tagine. As for the other cross cultural marital issues, well, good food helps, as does patience from all concerned. After all, Richard found the source of the Nile didn't he? Yah. No. He didn't.
Felicia's Egg and Potato Cake
Several sheets of filo dough. Damn that stuff.
Preheat oven to 350/180.
12 eggs. Yes. 12. Beat them in a bowl with a splash of milk.
Mince one onion and one green pepper very finely. I do it in a food processor.
Boil three potatoes and cut into small bite size pieces.
Grate about a pound of cheese. I see this as an opportunity to use up those bits of various cheeses you have in the fridge.
Melt a half stick of butter and get out a pastry brush.
First butter a medium size casserole dish, about 10 inches or 20 centis long.
Line the dish with a few sheets of filo, letting the filo drape over the sides of the dish. Brush with butter.
Layer in the cheese. Then layer in the minced onion and pepper. Layer the cubed potatoes.
Pour the eggs over the lot. Fold the filo over the top and brush with butter. Add a few more sheets of filo to the top of the tagine, brushing with butter to make it all stick down.
I hate handling filo. Just sayin. But filo gives this a nice buttery crunch. My husband's family doesn't use it; actually none of my Tunisian friends have that I remember. But this is my tagine, so filo it is.
Bake about 30 minutes until golden.
Serve hot or cold. It's nice.
And there you have it. Cake.
I wish all of you out there in relationships with those from very different backgrounds bon chance. Good luck. God be with you. The rewards of any relationship that crosses borders, religions, age, social statuses, and educational backgrounds add color to our lives. I suspect that is why I see red sometimes. Hah!
Love,
Felicia El Aid
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