These stuffed grape leaves tell a story
These stuffed grape leaves tell a story
Food as a way forward
Hi there! I’m back after taking last week off to rest and recharge. I’ve just arrived safely in Egypt to spend some time with Mohamed’s grandparents and extended family – a much needed change of pace. More updates to come next week!
Like most of us, I’ve been glued to the news this week watching some of humanity’s darkest days unfold before our eyes. I was feeling a bit down, and all the stories of culinary adventures I had on my list to write started to feel a bit pointless in the current context.
But then I started thinking about the fact that while food can be a great source of joy, that’s not necessarily a given. Sometimes it’s simply a means of sustenance. When scarce, it’s a source of stress, and in abundance, something to count on when everything else feels out of control.
In 2020, while filming one of my first videos for Eater, I had the chance to meet someone for whom food was a lifeline when everything else hadn’t gone to plan. Nabil Attard is the owner and chef at Närenj in Orléans, a cozy city about an hour south of Paris. His restaurant is fully booked most nights of the week and there’s a homey feel to both interior, decorated with his sister’s paintings, and the multi-course, family-style service where guests help themselves to bowls in the center of the table. Attard wanders around the dining room, checking in on everyone, and asking if they enjoyed their meal. His wife and son help him, too, creating the perfect portrait of a family business.
What diners may not know is that the dishes they’ve eaten at Närenj are more than a delicious meal, they’re a way of preserving memories.
For many years, Attard had a well-paying job as a bank manager in his hometown of Damascus, Syria. His free time, however, was dedicated to his passion since childhood – cooking. He loved to experiment with cuisine from around the world, especially the flavors of Japan and France. His friends would often receive gifts of his homemade cheese and bread.
Attard had long dreamed of opening a small restaurant in Damascus, but he never felt quite ready to make the leap.
Then, in 2015, the family was forced to flee Syria. When Attard arrived in France with his wife and two sons, not a single member of the family spoke French. For months, they took lessons and tried to get by with English. As they rebuilt their lives from scratch, Attard realized it was the moment to finally achieve his dream.
In a country famed for food and bureaucracy, opening a restaurant is not a casual endeavor – especially when you’ve just changed countries and cultures. But Attard set his sights even higher: Not only did he plan to open a restaurant, he was going to create a Syrian-flavors-meet-French-gastronomy fine dining establishment.
“Sometimes, when we don’t have a choice, we are forced to succeed,” he said. “With determination, we can achieve everything we dream of doing.”
And wow, did he succeed.
Beef slow-cooked for 13 hours resting on a tangy yogurt sauce accompanied by a wheat ball called kubeh stuffed with nuts and more beef? I could have eaten it every day for the rest of my life. And don’t get me started about what he calls his “spoon lamb” – meat so soft it seems to shred before the spoon even touches it.
Speaking with Chef Attard, I understood that Syria will forever be in his heart. The restaurant’s signature dessert is pistachio rice pudding perfumed with the närenj blossom, the orange trees that spill into the courtyards of Damascus and the restaurant’s namesake. The recipes he creates at Närenj incorporate French techniques and ingredients in a way that offers just the right degree of comfort to allow French diners to transport themselves into his world.
All recipes tell stories. Modern ones might shed light on hectic lifestyles or the ability to combine flavors that wouldn’t have been available in the same grocery store 20 years ago, while older ones paint a portrait of the natural environment and transport us to a time before microwaves replaced flames and preparing dinner could consume an entire afternoon.
While the video above follows Närenj’s recipe for stuffed grape leaves, similar dishes exist across the Mediterranean, from Greece to Turkey, Lebanon and Egypt.
The Egyptian version is called mahshi, and while it can be made with grape leaves, it’s more commonly done with cabbage. Unlike chef Attard’s recipe, the mahshi filling is meatless, although the dish isn’t entirely vegetarian as it’s cooked in chicken broth (and almost certainly accompanied by meat.)
As the rice cooks and absorbs the broth, it expands, creating a vacuum effect on the finger-sized cabbage leaves. The texture is addictive, which is why it’s best to eat it with your hands, like chips, until you realize there’s none left. The taste is cumin and sometimes a touch of dill, a little spicy or not at all, depending on how the cook feels that day.
I know a lot about mahshi because it’s Mohamed’s favorite dish and the one his mom makes whenever there’s a birthday or holiday or family dinner after someone has been away. It's a labor-intensive recipe, but that reflects its origins in a culture where people are in much less of a hurry than my own. It’s much nicer to prepare in a group, with tea and family and a lot to chat about.
I’m getting kind of good at rolling mahshi, which is perfect timing because I’ve just arrived for a two-week trip in Egypt. The day is cool (by Egypt standards) and bright, and out my window I hear the constant din of traffic and the mosque’s call to prayer. There’s not much indication of the ongoing crisis at the country’s borders, but then again, I’ve been here for less than 24 hours.
I’m not quite sure what these two weeks will look like, but a few things are certain: in an hour or so, we’ll get started preparing the mahshi. Tomorrow morning breakfast will be eggs and foul, dark brown, stewed fava beans scooped onto chewy flatbread. The family will show up, and there will be a lot of talking and laughing and more tea and the food and the memories will be inextricably linked.
If you ever find yourself in Paris, Orléans is a quick train ride away. The city itself is worth a visit, and you can also make a reservation at Närenj!
If you want to try your hand at mahshi (patience required), try this recipe, approved by my Egyptian mother-in-law.