A Cuisine for all Tastes, and a Taste for all Cuisines

Either tea or Turkish coffee must be drunk after meals, noting, of course, that coffee should be called Greek coffee in the presence of an Armenian or a Greek. Both are hugely popular with Alexandrians and until recently were the only hot beverage of choice for the intellectual-cum-artist community huddling over a cup of unsweetened coffee, or strong dark tea, extra sweetened in the “les deux maggots” style cafés in downtown Alexandria. Formerly at the top of those hangouts was the Elite, with Mme. Elite (that was the only name by which it mattered that she be referred to) kept a watchful eye over her regular cliques of customers. The cosmopolitan atmosphere seemed to agree with the liberal intellectuals of the seventies and gave the place an air that the cafés frequented today do not provide. On the top of the list is el Ahwa el Togareya (in Manshieh), and in the last year, Clay Café (in Sporting, on the tram). Nescafé has not managed to displace them as the favorite caffeine drink, but likewise has a certain, if different pretension, to acquired taste. Rituals of blending the Nescafé with sugar and milk and stirring briskly are devoutly kept in order to ensure a frothy consistence. A variety called “Moag el Bahr” (sea waves) is made by stirring the powdered coffee, sugar and just a drop of water constantly, then very gradually adding the milk. The result is an astonishing effect of a degrade color of café au lait.

Next to the Ottoman, the French was probably the second most influential cuisine in Alexandria. The French influence on culture in Egypt has been profound, despite the brevity of their stay in Egypt during Bonaparte’s expedition. In addition to the immense contribution made by Bonaparte’s savants in intellectual affairs, it must be remembered that French was the language of culture and refinement, and French missionaries were busy opening their schools from Alexandria in the north to Upper Egypt in the south, from as early as the 17th century (France being the protector of Catholicism in Ottoman lands). Though the French rarely mixed with the indigenous population or intermarried, all westernized homes served French food, especially when there were guests. Eating out really meant having French food, for although there might have been a few Greek dishes on the menu, the main fare at restaurants was French. French names for foods entered the everyday language and became Egyptian words. Even the Anglophones used French when it came to food, so it was always saumon fumé and never smoked salmon. French was the language of cuisine.

Isabelle Tawil, a French woman who married an Alexandrian of Syrian origins, Pierre Tawil, settled down to a kitchen of adapted recipes. She cooked cassoulet, a dish from Toulouse, on special occasions. She purchased the frankfurters and pork from Monaco, the best charcuterie in town, but as the rest of the sausages needed for the dish were not available in Alexandria, she simply did it without. The dish might be prepared with the assistance of the driver, Osta Hamed, who would look for the ingredients, particularly the sausages, and find alternatives. Sunday was reserved from molokheyya, known as mouloukiyya, regal, food of the kings. That was the supreme dish of the week. It was cooked Egyptian-style, like a soup (the Syrians and Lebanese cooked it differently, with the leaves whole), but out of deference for Pierre’s aunt, with whom they lived, a concession was made to Syrian cooking, and mutton was added to the chicken with which it is made in Egypt. In the afternoon, they had delicious cakes from Flückiger, the Swiss patisserie in town. Ful was never far from the table: Wednesday was the day for ful! During Easter, the whole household was engaged in making the traditional ka’ak, but Isabelle also kept a recipe book of pastries which she collected from the cookery classes she took with the nuns. It was indeed a cosmopolitan flavor.

Cassoulet

Ingredients

¾ kg white beans

1kg tomatoes (for the juice)

½  leg of lamb

3 garlic cloves

¼ kg sausages

Calabrese

Bacon

I thick slice neck

Salt, pepper, bay leaf, bouquet garni.

·         Soak the beans overnight

·         Discard  the water

·         Cook the beans in cold water to which we add one clove of garlic for around ½ hour.

·         Check the cooking by pressing the bean between two fingers.

·         Fry two medium onions, two cloves of garlic until golden in color.

·         Add the meat then the diced bacon (cook rapidly), then add tomato juice,  and the meat broth (obtained from cooking the meat)

·         Let it simmer until the butter surfaces (around half an hour).

·         Remove the beans from the water. ( keep this water in case we need to  lighten the cassoulet if necessary)

·         Add it to the meat and sauce.

·         When it comes to boil, put it in a pyrex plate, cook for 1-2 hours .

·         Add the sausages and calabrese when it is almost cooked.

With a total disregard for the delicacy of French sauces, which had to be prepared with great care and properly weighed ingredients, Rosette de Menasce adopted a happy-go-lucky attitude to her recipes. Rosette had arrived in Alexandria in the 1890s, and had married one of the city’s wealthiest men, Baron Felix de Menasce.

They lived in his palatial residence at Moharrem Bey, then a posh suburb of Alexandria, home to the Turco-Egyptian aristocracy and the wealthy Jews. It was named after Mohamed Ali’s son in law, who was the Admiral of the Egyptian fleet, and it was every Alexandrian’s dream to have a house there.

The popular saying went: “A hundred thousand pounds, and a palace in Moharrem Bey (meet alf gueineh, wa saraya fi Moharrem Bey)”.


In between her socializing, Rosette de Menasce prepared a personalized cookbook of French recipes, without much attention to quantities but with a flair for anecdotes.

The table of contents gives an indication of the French dishes served in Alexandria, with the ingredients provided locally, such as the geese from Moharrem Bey for the foie gras.

Foie Gras Moharrem  Bey

In Moharrem Bey, a suburb of Alexandria, the geese wander among the flowers and in the meadows. They are of all kinds, of all nationalities, and of all religions.  Moharrem Bey has a sanatorium where these Capitoline birds go to treat their advanced cirrhosis. When there is no hope left from medicine which cannot be found, or from the doctors who are in a mess due to the black-out, these poor creatures are sacrificed to remove their sick liver. And then, neither Strasbourg nor Périgord can compete with the Alexandrian foie gras. This is how it is done.
Firstly, any livers are suitable provided they are from poultry. All livers from “katakit” to Fayoum chicken, from duck to turkey, can be blended together to give a first class ersatz.
Heat some butter in a frying pan and quickly add all the chopped livers with a little grated onion for barely one minute, just sufficient to heat them slightly. Remove the livers from the frying pan, without the butter used for cooking them, and then pass them through a sieve with cold fresh butter. The amount of butter used must be equal to one third of the liver.
Make a pinkish colored paste, add salt and pepper, blend in a cooked egg yolk and put this mixture into mold, preferably a bowl, which has been buttered and covered with breadcrumbs. Place the mold in the refrigerator. This foie gras must be served very cold. Unmold the foie gras, place some pink radishes around it and, if by luck there are some truffles available, place some slices here and then to decorate.
If you have won the sweepstakes, then grate some truffles and sprinkle them all around the foie gras which then looks like a luxurious tête-de-nègre (chocolate-covered meringue). As real foie gras is forbidden to those with dyspepsia, the Moharrem Bey version is strongly recommended for its simplicity, its flavor and disregard for fat. A bon entendeur salut!

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