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’sĚýĚýis no ordinary cookbook; in fact, Dunlop’s a travel writer, as well, and employs both skills to bring together a compelling treatise on the history and evolution of Andalusian food since the arrival of the Moors.

The Arabs and Berbers who crossed the strait separating North Africa from the Iberian Peninsula revolutionised the gastronomy of an erstwhile hum-dun Visigoth diet.

The Muslim conquerors brought pomegranates, eggplants (originally from Persia), almonds and pine nuts, bitter oranges, ginger and saffron, and so on.

The Moors’ methods of irrigation and terraced farming similarly upended traditional cultivation. And it was 9th-century Baghdadi musician Ziryab who set forth a new sequencing of dishes: salad and soup were served first, followed by fish or meat and vegetable, and, finally, fruits, desserts, and nuts.

Dunlop even makes the case that noodles were more likely brought to Europe by Arabs rather than Marco Polo. Muslims adopted noodles from China and introduced them to their conquered lands in Sicily and Spain in the 900s. It is noteworthy that Iberian words for noodles derive from the Arabic wordĚýfidaws, which means “surplus” flour turned into dry pasta for shortage or travel.Ěý

Dunlop explores how much of the Moorish legacy remains today in the country’s cooking. Food communicates culture and identity, and after the Christian reconquest of Spain, the new owners did not take too kindly to some practices they associated with Islam.

For instance, couscous became a symbol of a banned identity. And pork was imposed on the residual Jewish and Muslim populations (until their eventual expulsion in 1609).

No wonder the Galician writer Julio Cambo quipped, “Spanish cooking overflows with garlic and religious prejudice.” But whether beneath the surface or overtly acknowledged, the Moorish legacy is seasoned, saturated, stewed — and so much more — in Spain’s iconic cuisine: shrimp fritters to quail in pomegranate sauce and almond and olive oil cake (all featured in the book).

“We realised how important it is to recover our roots and bring to light this history that was buried”

Unusual for a cookbook, Dunlop makes the brilliant decision to highlight local restaurants throughout Al-Andalusia. One such establishment is Chef Paco Morales’s Noor (light in Arabic) which eschews New World ingredients like tomato and peppers and focuses on reviving the old flavours of the Moorish period.

“We realised how important it is to recover our roots and bring to light this history that was buried,” Morales tells Dunlop.Ěý

If Dunlop’s travelogue approach to a cookbook sounds novel, the London chef behind the restaurant Persepolis,Ěý, definitely adopted her own unique approach with a Middle Eastern cookbook that is entirely vegan.

The inspiration behindĚýĚýcame from Butcher’s diners inquiring about vegan dishes. It was not a stretch for Butcher to reimagine dishes.

As she relates, Middle Eastern food is already heavy on vegetables, and most of the time, meat and fish may be omitted from recipes without sacrificing taste as the flavour mainly derives from spices, herbs, and cooking methods. “The Middle East is Allah’s gift to the non-meat eater,” Butcher writes.

One thing’s for certain, however: Veganism is practically unheard of in the Arab world. And Butcher is aware that her audience, Arab or otherwise, might be sceptical about a Vegan diet’s ability to provide enough nutrients. What about protein, calcium, zinc, etc? Grains, nuts, pulses, and vegetables as part of a balanced diet can satisfy our needs.Ěý

In her capable hands, we get dishes like cauliflower and pickle filo pie, celeriac (celery root) steaks with caper and olive sauce, and, for dessert, quince and cardamon trifle.

"The Middle East is Allah’s gift to the non-meat eater"

It doesn’t seem like you’ll miss out on flavour or nutrients with these dishes. If veganism is so readily adaptable to a Middle Eastern diet, it raises the question: is veganism really unusual in the region?

Butcher quotes the 11th-century philosopher-poet Al Ma’arri to argue that there has always been a vegan spirit: “Do not unjustly eat fish the water has given up … And do not grieve the unsuspecting birds by taking eggs … And spare the honey which the bees get industriously … For they did not store it that it might belong to others…”Ěý

Etal Adnan had It Was Beirut, All Over Again, Fairuz had Li BeirutĚýand nowĚýĚýłó˛ą˛őĚýĚýa beautiful tribute to the food and people of her native city.

The Lebanese-American cookbook writer and TV host, and the author ofĚýĚýMassad’s latest cookbook is inspired by a desire to do something to help her fledgling homeland in the face of tragedy: the August 4th, 2020 Beirut port explosion, political instability, and a food and electricity shortage.

“I write cookbooks,” Massad relates, so she decided to work on a new one featuring 100 easy-to-make recipes reflecting Lebanon’s culinary heritage.

"The streets of Beirut never cease to inspire me … reflecting the emotional roller-coaster ride we are living on a daily basis”Ěý

The book conserves that heritage and raises funds for the Lebanese Food Bank to feed needy families. Interwoven between the recipes are the photographs and personal stories captured by Massad. “The streets of Beirut never cease to inspire me … reflecting the emotional roller-coaster ride we are living on a daily basis.”Ěý

At a precarious time for Beirut, “a recipe is so much more than just a set of ingredients,” Massad writes, “it can be a custom that brings us to our senses, enabling us to reflect on, embrace, and preserve the ties that bind us.”

The recipes here stir your cravings and, true to her word, are simple to prepare for the uninitiated cook.ĚýShankleeshĚýsalad — spiced cheese with tomatoes, peppers, and onion — followed by Aleppo kebab (kebab halabi) andĚýatayefĚý(stuffed pancakes) for dessert can hopefully bring some people together.

Khelil Bouarrouj is a Washington, DC-based writer and civil rights advocate. His work can be found in the Washington Blade, Palestine Square, and other publications