Preserved lemons are useful in all sorts of recipes, and they’re a breeze to make. Depending on your neighborhood, or how far you’re willing to travel, you can likely buy a jar of preserved lemons ready to eat. It’s just as easy, however, to make them yourself. While you’re most likely to find preserved lemons in traditional preparations—Algerian couscous dishes fragrant with olives and raisins, Indian curries, Tunisian chickpea stews, and, yes, the Moroccan chicken tagine—they’re a worthy addition to a wide spectrum of meals.
Ingredients
8 to 10 whole lemons
1/2 cup kosher salt
1/4 cup granulated sugar
Directions
Trim 1/4 inch off the top and bottom of each lemon. Split each lemon lengthwise into quarters, keeping quarters connected at base. Transfer to a large bowl. Toss with salt and sugar. Cover with plastic and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, the lemons will have released a lot of liquid. Transfer entire contents of bowl to a sterilized canning jar, pressing lemons down firmly until they are completely submerged in liquid. Seal jars and store in refrigerator for at least 2 weeks and up to 6 months.

Special equipment
Sterilized quart-sized canning jars

Toasting cumin seeds, then mashing them with garlic and chile flakes in a mortar and pestle releases maximum flavor.
Replacing some of the bean broth with olive oil makes for an intense grassy and pungent base for an abundance of spices and garlic.
Ful medames, stewed fava beans, is a staple dish all over the Levant. Some versions are mild-mannered and comforting. This one, loaded with olive oil, lemon, garlic, cumin, and a kick of chile flakes, is anything but. Serve it as a bean stew or mash up the beans and use it as a high octane dip.
4 cloves garlic
1 1/2 teaspoons cumin seeds, freshly toasted
2 teaspoons chile flakes
Kosher salt
2 (15-ounce) cans fava beans
3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil, plus more for serving
1 tablespoon tahini
3 to 4 tablespoons lemon juice from 2 lemons, or more to taste
Directions
Put garlic cloves, cumin seeds, chile flakes, and a pinch of salt in a mortar and pestle and crush until seeds are cracked and garlic is in small, flimsy chunks. If you don’t have a mortar and pestle, mince garlic very fine.

Empty one can of fava beans (with liquid) into a medium saucepan; drain second can and add additional beans, garlic paste, olive oil, and tahini. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, until liquid retains some brothiness but turns thick and sauce-like, about 5 minutes.

Add lemon juice and salt to taste. If desired, mash one third of beans with a potato masher for a thicker stew, or mash all beans for a rich dip. Serve with additional olive oil at the table.

Special equipment
Mortar and pestle (recommended but not required; see step 1)

As any fan of Yotam Ottolenghi’s previous book, Plenty, knows, the man is an expert when it comes to eggplant. In his and his partner Sami Tamimi’s new book Jerusalem: A Cookbook, there are copious recipes for eggplant—stuffed, puréed, roasted, baked, and everything in between. In their Stuffed Eggplant with Lamb and Pine Nuts, they fill the silky, humble nightshade with a warmly spiced blend of gamey ground lamb, sweet onions, and a smattering of pine nuts. But instead of roasting the eggplants separately before topping with the mixture, Ottolenghi and Tamimi roast the whole shebang tightly covered in the oven, basting the eggplants with a tangy tamarind and cinnamon sauce to meld the elements into one rich and comforting dish.

Why I picked this recipe: Silky roasted eggplant plus rich, savory lamb equals a big win in my book.

What worked: The warm spices match perfectly to gamey ground lamb, and the pine nuts offer a welcome crunchy pop.

What didn’t: My eggplants came out a little watery. Next time I’d score them before the initial roast to encourage more of their liquid to evaporate.

Suggested tweaks: You could easily swap in ground beef, turkey, or chicken (sticking with fattier blends) for the lamb if you’d like. I’d stay away from pork though.

Directions
Season tomatoes with 1 teaspoon salt and toss to combine. Transfer to a fine mesh strainer or colander set in a bowl and allow to drain for 20 minutes. Reserve liquid.

Season parsley with remaining 1 teaspoon salt and toss to combine. Transfer to a large mixing bowl lined with paper towels and let stand for 20 minutes. Blot parsley with towels to remove excess moisture.

Bring 1/2 cup reserved tomato water to a boil, then pour over bulgur in a small heatproof bowl and let stand until bulgur is softened, about 1 hour (bulgur may still have a slight bite, but will continue to soften in the salad). Drain bulgur of any excess liquid and pat dry with paper towels.

In a large mixing bowl, stir together tomatoes, parsley, mint, bulgur, scallions, olive oil, lemon juice, coriander seed, and cinnamon until well combined. Season with salt and pepper. Serve tabbouleh with romaine leaves.

Special equipment
Fine mesh strainer
Notes
Spices add complexity and depth to the tabbouleh, but you can omit or use different spices, as desired; allspice is another popular option.

Tabbouleh is a Middle Eastern vegetarian salad made with chopped parsley, tomatoes, mint, bulgur wheat, and lemon juice. Pre-salting the tomatoes and parsley removes excess liquid through osmosis, preventing the salad from becoming soupy later.
Tomato water is re-infused into the salad by using it to soak the bulgur, enhancing the flavor.
Soaking the bulgur in heated tomato water ensures it will soften, regardless of its grind size.
There are lots of tabbouleh recipes in the world, but many give instructions that can lead to a sopping wet salad with bulgur that’s too hard to eat. This one uses pre-salting steps to remove excess moisture from the tomatoes and parsley, then uses the water drained from the tomatoes to soak the bulgur until tender and flavorful. A hint of spices adds complexity and depth.

3/4 pound ripe plum tomatoes, finely diced
2 cups finely chopped flat-leaf parsley leaves and tender stems (about 2 bunches), finely chopped with a sharp knife
2 teaspoons kosher salt, divided, plus more for seasoning
1/4 cup dry coarse bulgur wheat
1 cup finely chopped fresh mint leaves (about 1 bunch)
2 scallions, white and light green parts only, finely chopped
5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh juice from 2 lemons
1/4 teaspoon ground coriander seed (optional; see note)
Pinch ground cinnamon (optional; see note)
Freshly ground black pepper
Romaine lettuce leaves, for serving

For the gondi: Place chickpeas in a large mixing bowl and mash with a potato masher until no whole chickpeas remain but mixture is still somewhat chunky. Add chicken, onions, matzo meal, olive oil, turmeric, cumin, and cardamom. Lightly mix with hands until mixture is well combined, then add water, one tablespoon at a time, until mixture comes together easily and can be rolled into balls that keep their shape but don’t stick to your hands.
Add 3/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper and mix well. Place a 1/2-teaspoons worth of mixture on a microwave-proof plate and microwave on high power for 10 seconds until cooked through. Taste and add more salt or pepper if desired. Repeat microwaving, tasting, and seasoning until desired seasoning level is achieved.

Form gondi by rolling a couple tablespoons of the mixture between your hands. Each gondi should measure 1 1/2 inches in diameter. You’ll be able to make about 20 gondi. Transfer to a large plate as you form them. Drop the gondi one at a time in the broth. When all the gondi are in, bring the soup back up to a simmer and simmer until the gondi lighten in color slightly, puff up, and are cooked through completely, about 10 minutes. Adjust seasoning of the broth with salt and pepper. Serve, garnished with snipped chives.

Note: Serve these as an alternative to matzo balls for your Passover Seder. At Balaboosta, Einat plans to cook the gondi in one broth, but serve them in a fresh batch, so the finished broth isn’t cloudy. At home, she encourages you to do as her family does, and cook the gondi in the same soup they’ll be served in.

As a Spring flourish, Einat also plans to add finely chopped ramp bulbs to the soup and use their greens as a garnish.

2 quarts canned or homemade low-sodium chicken broth
1 medium carrot, chopped into 1/2-inch dice (about 1 cup)
1 medium leek, white parts only, split lengthwise in quarters, chopped into 1/4-inch segments (about 1 cup)
1 large celery stalk, chopped into 1/4-inch segments (about 1 cup)
1 medium potato, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch dice (about 1 cup)
1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas, drained
1 small onion, grated on the large holes of a box grater (about 1/2 cup)
3/4 pound ground chicken legs and thighs
1/2 cup matzo meal
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom pods (2 pods)
3 to 4 tablespoons water, as needed
Kosher sald and freshly ground black pepper
1 small bunch chives, cut into 1/2-inch segments (about 1/4 cup)
Bring chicken broth to a boil over high heat in a large saucepan. Reduce to a bare simmer and add carrots, leeks, celery, and potato. Cover and cook until vegetables are completely tender, about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, make the gondi.

The best Israeli hummus has a smooth-as-butter texture and great flavor. Here’s how to get the best of both worlds at home. Sometimes recipes come off really easily, without a hitch. Other times they take lots of tweaking and planning. This is a rare case of a recipe that came out relatively easily, but was full of so much fascinating science that I ended up devoting a few extra days to it anyway. It ended up yielding an explanation of a technique that I’m going to be incorporating into countless recipes going forward. That’s my favorite kind of recipe: one that delivers on deliciousness right now, and even more deliciousness in the future.

*If you impatient types wanna cut to the fun, science-y part, skip down to where I talk about The Science of Garlic Flavor, and see what it’s all about. Just promise you’ll come back and read up on the rest, okay?

Making Tahini for Hummus
The other day in my post on roasted eggplant with lentils and tahini, I mentioned that the method of making tahini sauce in Michael Solomonov’s Zahav is the best technique I’ve ever tried, and it works wonders for hummus as well.

While tahini may play only a small role in the hummus of, say, Lebanon or Greece, in Israel it stands on equal footing with the chickpeas. Some recipes call for a ratio of almost 1:1, which means that great Israeli-style hummus must start with great tahini sauce.

Hummus is Levantine and Egyptian in origin, but the puréed mixture of chickpeas and sesame has been eaten all over the Middle East, the Mediterranean, and North Africa for centuries. Its flavor and relative ratio of ingredients vary wildly from region to region, but today I’m focusing on the Israeli version familiar in the US, which is made with tons of tahini and a touch of cumin. The problem is, it’s hard to find a perfect batch. Store-bought hummus typically has a great, ultra-smooth and -creamy texture, but it lacks flavor and is not easily customizable to our own personal tastes. Homemade hummus, especially when made with dried chickpeas, may have amazing flavor that we can play with any way we like, but it’s quite difficult to get it as smooth as the store-bought stuff. So what if you want hummus that is smooth and flavorful?
I’ve spent the last couple of weeks soaking, peeling, boiling, pressure-cooking, blending, puréeing, smashing, smooshing, occasionally trashing, and, of course, eating chickpeas to figure out all the tricks in the hummus book. Here’s what I’ve learned so far. (And yes, there is a way to pack in both flavor and texture without the tedious task of peeling hundreds of individual chickpeas!)