Algerian Pastries in Ann Arbor

Three months ago, I decided to take the plunge and follow one of my dearest dreams. That week, butter, flour and orange blossom water spent most of the day on the countertop and my hands were rolling, shaping and filling pastries almost every single day. That week, Wednesday came faster than ever before and I’ve found myself one Wednesday afternoon packing my car with a table, a chair, a cardboard sign and a bin filled with pastries. With a kiss on the forehead from my husband and a hug goodbye from my daughter Layla, I backed up on the driveway and took the road that would get me closer to the Ann Arbor farmer’s market, to my dream; the road that would give birth to Al Meida fine Algerian pastries. That day, I gave birth to a slice of my country in the heart of Ann Arbor and it never felt so beautiful, so sweet, just like pastries.

Algerian Baked Fish

Today I came with the intention of telling you about the reason that made me disappear from my blog and fills most of my days, and my heart, with joy, perfumes of orange blossom water and so much bliss. (No, it’s not another baby!) But then, on Saturday, I baked these cute Sea Bass pictured above and they were so amazing, so lip-smacking delicious that I had to tell you about the fish and leave my life for later.

Meatballs and peas Tagine with asparagus and eggs

I should have called this dish: compromise peas; finding the middle ground peas.

A warm spring day, about seven years ago, back when I was a new bride with smoother hair, smaller waist and nonexistent squeaky toys in my living room, Mohamed and I came home from the farmer's market with a bag full of fresh green peas for dinner. He made mint tea for both of us and we took the bowl of green peas to our then tiny, but beloved, balcony and started shelling. We shelled, he ate and I talked. It was the perfect harmony, the perfect start to a beautiful dinner and evening; until I went to the kitchen and cooked peas the way I always had them at my parent's house, which is in a hearty stew with meatballs and a touch of cream.
It was delicious, comforting; at least to me. He set the table, must have lit some candles (we don't have candles on the table anymore, as all our daughters want to do when they see them is either touch them, blow on them or sing happy birthday) put on some music, must have made his way to the living room table dancing (thank goodness he still dance. I love his moves and so do the girls) and sat down to see in front of him a pool of green-brownish peas with scattered meatballs swimming.

Hidden gems of Algerian cooking

A couple of days ago, my husband came back from a business trip to Europe and an agreeable, though extremely short, one to Algeria where he visited our family and feasted on some of our beloved, dearly missed dishes that we can’t find or have difficulties duplicating here in Michigan due to the lack of ingredients. While most of our cooking is based on spices, fresh seasonal vegetables and grains, most of them widely available in the US, some more regional recipes are based on local herbs, techniques and just the heritage of our cherished native country.

Mexicans have Mole and Algerians (mostly Eastern part of the country) have M’loukhiya. While all Mole preparations begin with chili peppers, M’loukhiya (which in Ancient Egypt means “for kings and nobles”) is made using the leaves of Jute, removed from the stem and ground to a fine powder. It is cooked with olive oil, lamb, beef or chicken, garlic, fresh bay leaves, dried mint leaves, ground caraway and coriander and other spices. While the meat and garlic and spices are cooking, jute powder is mixed with water or broth and slowly poured into the meat mixture. M’loukhiya simmers until it thickens to a smooth mole like sauce, between 5 to 7 hours. And though the smell can be quite strong and reminiscent to some people to Henna, it is simply exquisite, with complex flavor that only calls for a crusty French baguette and a hungry stomach. Algerian and Tunisian M’loukhiya is different from Egyptian and Middle Eastern M’loukhiya where they use a different variety and the whole leaves of Jute. I might see Indian stores if they have the same variety of Jute to recreate this recipe at home.