• Photography
    • PEOPLE
    • SPACES
    • FOOD
    • TRAVEL
  • Journalism
  • Commercial
    • Tory Whanau
    • Cave People
    • James Bush Design
    • Generator
    • WellingtonNZ
    • Clare Bush Architects
    • Oikos
    • Homegrown Creative
    • River Valley Adventure Lodge
  • BLOG
  • About
  • Contact
  • Links
  • Menu

NICOLA EDMONDS

  • Photography
    • PEOPLE
    • SPACES
    • FOOD
    • TRAVEL
  • Journalism
  • Commercial
    • Tory Whanau
    • Cave People
    • James Bush Design
    • Generator
    • WellingtonNZ
    • Clare Bush Architects
    • Oikos
    • Homegrown Creative
    • River Valley Adventure Lodge
  • BLOG
  • About
  • Contact
  • Links
Damascus makloubi 062.jpg

Hasan Alwarhani's Makloubi

March 14, 2021

Hasan Alwarhani

A few months ago we took my parents to dinner at ‘Damascus’. The little restaurant’s ambiance felt like assorted pieces of a Middle Eastern setting, pasted into somebody’s grandmother’s suburban sitting room. With a view of a bowling green.

We perched on high stools at a long table, leaning into circular platters piled high with dishes both familiar and new, tracing a delicious journey with our fingers and home-made bread. Sitting amongst the couches, with an intermittent sound track of cheering from the social-night bowlers outside, we were particularly struck by the feeling of being at home.

Chef Hasan Alwarhani has come a long way to open his own restaurant with his wife Flora. From life as a farm boy in rural Syria, to cafe work and training horses, as a 14 year old in Damascus, then on to construction work and a job as a surf instructor in a water park owned by royalty in Dubai. It was at the park that he first set eyes on Flora, a talented pastry chef from Argentina. The pair eventually settled in Wellington, New Zealand, where Alwarhani was at first employed as a swimming pool lifeguard.

Damascus makloubi 036.jpg

Makloubi

2 cups of long grain white rice (rinsed and strained)

4 cups of water

1 red onion (finely chopped)

2 garlic cloves (finely chopped)

1 eggplant (sliced length-wise)

2 yellow capsicums (sliced in quarters, seeds removed)

200g of diced lamb

1 orange/lemon

salt to taste

Olive oil

2 Tbsp Aleppo spice (mix your own or contact Hasan to buy from ‘Damascus’)

Handful of cashews and almonds, with a few extra for garnish

Preheat the oven to 180 C

Heat a splash of olive oil in a pan over a medium to high heat. Fry the onion and the garlic, cook until translucent, stirring frequently. Stir in the spices and salt and keep mixing to toast the spices. When the spices become fragrant, add the rice and stir to combine with the other ingredients.

Pour in sufficient water to generously cover the rice (Hasan holds a dessert spoon in the pan, adding enough water to reach the beginning of the handle). Cook the rice over a medium heat until the water evaporates. When the rice is nearly cooked through, grate the zest of an orange or lemon over the rice and stir to combine.

Bake or grill the capsicum quarters until their skins start to blister and turn black. When the quarters are cool enough to handle, rub them to remove the skins.

While the oven is still hot, roast the almonds and the cashews for about 10 minutes.

Add some oil to a heavy-based frying pan and gently fry the eggplant slices until they are browned and caramelised. Pat the cooked slices dry on a kitchen towel.

In a separate pan, add some olive oil and fry the meat with salt and pepper until tender and cooked through.

Grease a bowl (the shape of the bowl will determine the final shape of the makloubi). You will also need a serving plate or tray that is wider than this bowl. Spread the toasted nuts and meat across the bottom of the bowl.

Line the sides of the bowl with alternating slices of eggplant and capsicum, covering the circumference of the bowl. Place the slices so that their edges sit up above the rim. Spoon in the cooked rice and fold the edges of the eggplant and capsicum slices over the rice.

Put the serving plate or tray on top of the bowl and gently flip both over. Carefully lift the bowl clear to reveal the makloubi, a savoury cake of meat and vege’s. Garnish with a little chopped parsley and toasted almonds.

Side salad

3 tomatoes

1 cucumber

1 spring onion

A handful of fresh mint and coriander

Juice of one lemon

Olive oil

Chop all of the herbs and vegetables. Mix the lemon juice together with olive oil, salt and a little water.

Combine everything together and serve in a separate bowl.

View fullsize Damascus makloubi 018.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 021.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 025.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 035.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 028.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 044.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 042.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 041.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 048.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 052.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 065.jpg
View fullsize Damascus makloubi 075.jpg

How did you come to be running your own restaurant in Wellington?

When I first came to New Zealand we went to the markets every weekend and we got to thinking that we should start something for ourselves. One day we had friends around and we did the Middle Eastern pizza, manakesh, and they fell in love with it - they were blown away. I was thinking maybe this is where we’re supposed to start. We honestly started the business with something like $800. We bought a pizza oven and a cheap gazebo and two tables. We made just two dishes, prepped at home and sold at the market.

Did you realise that you’d chosen a location of great cultural significance when you found a spot next to a bowling green?

We had no clue! But I felt so lucky in every way in the journey up to where we are now. It’s like everything that happened, was the best for us and the best for everyone in our community too. We found the kitchen on a space-sharing site online. When the cafe owner decided to close down, the trustees of the bowling club asked if I would like to open the place. And I was like, “hell yeah!” It’s a massive opportunity.

Was there a particular reason that you chose to share this recipe for Makloubi?

Makloubi is such a unique dish all around Syria. It’s quite famous and cooked at least once a month, but it’s cooked when there is family around or to get family together. I don’t remember a time when we had a family reunion, when one of the dishes wasn’t this. It brings people together. I knew you would fall in love with it.

Is it a recipe that varies depending on who cooks it?

We don’t even have internet in Syria. We don’t follow recipes, everyone just does their flavour. Each and every house do different things to it and I kind of like that, because I like being creative when I’m cooking, rather than just following the page. I have four sisters and too many aunties and each and every one of them is famous for doing one dish. I feel shy to cook for them, to be honest. They are really proud of what they do.

Where was food in your life as a child?

I’ve always been nosy about food and always knew my flavours when I was eating something. My mum was a huge part of it. Also my sister, who studied to be a chef. She taught me how to bring food to life. Mum taught me more about home cooking. When I started to travel, I used to be with my mum on the phone for half an hour just to get one dish done. She’s a really humble leader in the kitchen and loves to teach. She draws you into cooking, without you realising it.

Are there people or places that have inspired the way that you cook?

There are restaurants that I loved, one in Dubai and one in the middle of nowhere in the mountains of Syria. They really inspired me for their food and the way that they welcome people. My family inspire me too. I have five cousins who are chefs. A bigger inspiration would be what you want to do to people - what you want to give back. I’m a people person. I really care. I want to make sure, when they go to the restaurant, at least they feel good and they feel at home

What are your thoughts on sharing food?

In my culture we say, “If I share with you a cup of water and a little bit of salt, we are family for life”. So sharing, it’s huge for us. Sharing a meal with someone is like we are sharing the air we are breathing.

Damascus makloubi.jpg
Comment
Lois Daish cornbread.jpg

Lois Daish Cornbread

February 22, 2021

Lois Daish

My first and very lucky break as a photographer came along many years ago when I was asked to cover a maternity leave slot at the ‘Listener’. At that time retired chef and writer Lois Daish, filed a weekly recipe column for the magazine. Each week she would greet me at her front door, bracketed by the intriguing aromas curling between the doorways from her kitchen.

I loved the cool hush of her stately, yet wonderfully comforting home. There were tall shelves of cookbooks that were always distracting me from the task at hand. I also loved that when my one roll of film was done, Lois would set about laying a table for us. She would divide and prepare that small plate of whatever we had been working on, and we would sit down to lunch. It was a very welcome spot of what felt, even then, like a little bit of old-fashioned civility.

When it came to creating this blog, it seemed only right that Lois should be my first port of call. Many of her recipes have been my trusted favourites for years. The recipe for the cornbread that she prepared for this post is based on one that was included in Lois’s first book, Good Food: Recipes from the Listener (1989).

LOIS 003.jpg



Skillet Cornbread

1 cup corn kernels

1/2 onion

2 tbsp butter

1 small chilli or 1/4 tsp cayenne

(for our lunch, Lois used an Ethiopian Berbere spice mix, which was delicious! You can make something similar by combining smoked paprika and cumin)

1 egg

1/4 cup sour cream (or unsweetened yoghurt with a squeeze of lemon juice)

1/2 cup grated cheddar cheese

1/2 cup finely ground cornmeal (or coarse if you prefer a more gritty texture)

1/2 cup plain flour

1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

Salt and pepper

1/2 cup milk



Roughly chop the corn kernels.

Finely chop the onion and sauté in 1 tablespoon of butter until golden. Add the seeded and chopped chilli/cayenne or Berbere spice mix. Combine the corn kernels and onion mixture.

Beat together the egg and sour cream. Add to the corn mixture. Add the grated cheese. Mix together the cornmeal, flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and pepper. Stir into the corn mixture. Add enough milk (about 1/2 cup) to make the batter just thin enough to pour.

Heat the remaining 1 tablespoon of butter in a 20cm cast iron frying-pan.

Pour the batter into the hot pan and bake in 180℃ oven for about 20 minutes until firm and golden-brown. Serve warm if possible.

This cornbread may be baked in a 20cm cake tin if no suitable frying pan is available.

View fullsize LOIS 022.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 007.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 017.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 002.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 014.jpg
View fullsize A26I9194.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 026.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 018.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 028.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 029.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 039.jpg
View fullsize LOIS 041.jpg



What was the inspiration for this recipe?

Most likely it was from my time living California. But also, in 1946, we moved from Eltham (Taranaki), to New York, where we lived on Long Island for three years. The family miracle was being able to go out to eat. This was something that never ever happened in New Zealand. It wasn’t part of the culture. And my mother loved all the different food we were eating. Meatloaf, chicken tetrazzini, tuna sandwiches. All those exotic recipes came back to New Zealand with us. Mum’s contribution to church lunches caused a few raised eyebrows!

Where was food in your life as a child?

My parents were always very busy. For dinner, Mum would cook the mains then tell us girls that if we wanted cakes or biscuits we should cook them for ourselves. Her philosophy was to let the children do the interesting stuff while she would take care of the more tiresome clean up end of the process. Mother was a special kind of person. She felt that cleaning up was the thing that put people off cooking.

How did you get started in the restaurant industry?

My first little entrée was in 1966. I had one child and was pregnant with another. At that stage Downstage Theatre (in Wellington) served dinners before shows. The musical director was a friend who often came to dinner at our house. One day he called and said they were expecting 50 plus for dinner and could I come down and stand in for their usual cook. I had no idea really, but when I got there, I just felt good. I felt in my element. That little taste of big pots and everybody in together and the fun… It just intrigued me.

What are your thoughts on sharing food?

Well it’s 20 years since I last made this recipe and then this summer, I’d been invited by some friends, and I found myself thinking ‘what am I going to make for this wretched potluck?!’

What is it that you detest about potluck meals?

I don’t like the fact that it confuses the roles of the host and the guest. I think that’s the most despicable thing. Who’s the host and who’s the guest is very important and clearly defined. But if you take something to a potluck you become partly host and the person whose house it is has to relate to what you’ve brought, along with the various other people who’ve also brought things. Then you have this hybrid situation – it’s not pleasant for anyone! I think it’s such a pleasure when you have control as a host and also to be a guest, when you don’t have to think about anything.

Are there people or places that have inspired you as a cook?

Probably Kelda Haines (chef at ‘Rita’) is my tutor. We appreciate the same things. Since lockdown, we talk to each other once a week, for an hour, about food. I enjoy hearing her point of view and how she’s coming to the decisions on what to cook for the restaurant. I find I’m also influenced greatly by my daughter, Mary Daish. She sort of started off cooking a bit like me but now her food would be nicer to eat than mine. I’m certainly not influenced by old people! I’m just really delighted to be refreshed by younger cooks and sometimes I’m being refreshed back into something I used to make 30 years ago, but sometimes it’s something that’s completely new to me.

Lois daish cornbread.jpg
1 Comment

Bring a Plate

In 2020 there was plenty of time to think about food.

For every story of the life I’ve lived so far, there seems always to be a side chapter devoted to what I ate and who made it for me.

2021 seems like a good time to explore the recipes and stories of other people who have put food on my plate.


Latest Posts

BLOG
Hasan Alwarhani's Makloubi
about 4 years ago
Lois Daish Cornbread
about 4 years ago