SELLOU

moroccan nut halva

This healthful confection is prepared during Ramadan, the Muslim month of daytime fasting, and after childbirth as a restorative for the mother.

SERVES 6

1²/₃ cups [250 g] unbleached all-purpose flour

³/₄ tsp ground aniseed

2¹/₄ tsp ground cinnamon

4 small grains mastic (optional; see page 55), finely ground in a small mortar with a pestle to yield ¹/₄ tsp powdered mastic

1¹/₄ cups [125 g] sesame seeds

¹/₂ cup [80 g] blanched almonds, toasted (see page 25)

Heaping ¹/₂ cup [75 g] confectioners’ sugar, plus more for sprinkling

¹/₃ cup [75 g] honey

1¹/₂ Tbsp unsalted butter

¹/₄ cup [60 ml] sunflower oil

Put the flour in a frying pan and place over medium heat. Toast the flour, stirring constantly, until it is golden, about 10 minutes—be careful not to let it burn, as it will turn bitter.

Transfer the flour to a large mixing bowl and let cool. Add the aniseed, cinnamon, and mastic (if using) and mix well.

Put the sesame seeds in a small skillet and place over medium heat. Toast the seeds, stirring constantly, until just beginning to change color, about 10 minutes. Let cool.

Process the sesame seeds, ¹/₄ cup [40 g] of the almonds, and the confectioners’ sugar in a food processor until very finely ground. Add to the flour and mix well. Make a well in the center.

Heat the honey and butter in a small saucepan but do not let the mixture boil. Add to the well along with the sunflower oil and work together until you have a smooth paste.

Transfer to a shallow serving bowl and shape into a pyramid. Sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar and arrange the remaining whole almonds in four lines fanning out from the top of the pyramid and in a line around the bottom. Serve immediately.

halva

Halva made with tahini is well known, but few people know how it’s made. And I have to admit I didn’t until many years ago, when I prepared it following a published recipe and nearly broke my food processor trying to grind the sesame seeds. I ended up with a halva that bore no resemblance to any I had ever eaten. A few years ago, I was being taken around the old souks of Aleppo by a wonderful character, Hassan Khoja, a burly man with an encyclopedic knowledge of all things Aleppine. We stopped at the shop of a friend of his, Omar Akesh, who sells tahini and halva that he produces in a sprawling and rather medieval space behind and above his shop.

To make tahini, Akesh roasts sesame seeds, and then soaks, hulls, and presses them. He boils soapwort roots to produce a brown liquid that when beaten miraculously turns into a brilliant white foam (because of soapwort’s saponin content). He then mixes the foam with sugar syrup to produce a meringue-like dip called natef (see page 59). Then the natef is mixed with the tahini and the mixture is processed in three different stages. First it is churned in a big metal vat. Next it is beaten with a huge wooden pestle that is attached to an automated arm. After that comes the final stage, kneading: the mixture is transferred to a gorgeous large metal bowl with a round bottom, and the halva maker kneads the mixture as he would dough until it is smooth. He then portions out the halva and packs it in containers.

However, tahini halva is only one type of halva. There are many others, made with semolina or flour, that are prepared for specific occasions. Some cooks start toasting the flour on its own before continuing the browning process with the butter, while others brown the flour and butter together from the very beginning. Some cook the halva with the sugar syrup while others add the syrup away from the heat. And some don’t even make any syrup, directly adding confectioners’ sugar to the flour to produce a more brittle halva. In any case, flour or semolina halva is a lot easier and quicker to make than tahini halva; and it will keep for a few days, stored in an airtight container kept in a cool place. This kind of halva is basically a spoon sweet. It is either spread in a shallow bowl and then spooned onto individual plates—it has a smooth, creamy texture, a little like dense mashed potatoes—or it is shaped into quenelles for a prettier presentation. I sometimes cut it with tiny cookie cutters.