Turkish Meal Mondays are a glimpse into
the food we enjoy here in Turkey, accompanied by a recipe. Mondays are
one of our favourite days, because they're Market Days. Ever since our first market day a
year and a half ago we have only missed two, due to torrential down
pour a few weeks ago. Our trips to the market will continue to focus on
selecting fresh and delish produce to use in our weekly Turkish
recipes. Get ready... This blog just became appealing to foodies.
Early in our Turkish lives, I fell in love with Mantı, a ravioli or tortellini style pasta with a tangy yogurt sauce. I started asking friends to teach me to make it, (meaning the sauce, because Americans don't make pasta, we buy it dried).
All of my friends shook their heads and said "Oh it's too hard. You can't learn."
When I explained that I just needed the sauce recipe, because I could buy the dried mantı at the store, they refused again. "Don't eat that. It's not good. Only eat home-made."
We were at an impasse.
Well two years later, we found a patient and knowledgeable teacher. Our neighbor Hacar, who's been there all along, offered to teach me in exchange for Alan's babysitting services.
"Oh no! Don't make me hold your ridiculously cute baby!"
As you can see in the picture, Ege wasn't too happy about nap time. And he was a fighter. Alan started the rocking, and singing 20 minutes before the cooking started... I'll point out the point that he finally won the nap-battle.
So we started with the noodles. If you're really Turkish you won't measure a thing. You'll just use your eyeball.
So use this much flour (3 cups?), scoop it into a little donut shape, and crack an egg into the middle. Sprinkle salt around the donut two or three times.
Un, yumurta, tuz
Use your fingers (possibly with disposable gloves on) to break the yoke, and then mix it into the flour starting at the center and slowly mixing around the middle of the donut, incorporating more and more flour in each time you go around. This mixing process took about 10 minutes with Hacar adding small amounts of water a few times. Once the dough comes together in a flaky ball, move it to a clean floured surface, and kneed, kneed, kneed.
Separate into two even balls, flour the tops, and allow it to "rest" while you make the filling.
Filling: One fist full, or approximately 200grams, of ground meat. (We used lamb, I've had beef, and Hacar said we could use ground chicken or Turkey for my non-red-meat-eating-mom.)
One small onion finely chopped.
Salt and pepper
And one finger-full (not joking about the measurements here, folks) of pepper paste.
Mix with hands.
kıyma, soğan, tuz, kara biber, aci biber salçası
Now comes the fun part. Rolling it out. If you don't have a super skinny Turkish rolling pin, use your American one, although you may not be able to do this crazy trick where you roll it all the way around your pin like magic. Bummer.
Turkish people use this rolling method to make Gözleme as well. Before this lesson, neither Alan or I had succeeded in making anything other than something resembling a large corn dog with this method.
But Hacar shared the magic.
Start by rolling it into a smallish personal-pan-pizza size.
Sprinkle flour all over the top.
Place pin near the end of the dough, and flip the end over the pin.
Roll slowly towards the center, pushing down gently and spreading hands towards the edge as you roll. The outward movement is key, without it you'll end up with the corn-dog.
Do this multiple times, spinning the dough 90 degrees between each rolling, and adding another sprinkle of flour every few times.
This is how thin your ball-o-dough should be when you finish. Hacar kept saying "See? Not too thin." Looked mighty thin to me.
Use a sharp, floured knife to cut long one inch strips. use the rolling pin as a straight edge.
Cut again, perpendicularly, making little one inch squares.
Add super small portions of the filling, using your finger tip. Don't add too much, or it will squeeze out the sides. Don't add too little, or Hacar will ask if you're poor.
Fold into adorable little triangles pinching the edges shut.
Or fold into fancy purse shapes by making a hod-dog fold, pinching the corners, and then squeezing the corners towards the center.
By the way, this is where Ege finally gave up the fight.
As it turns out, this isn't difficult. It's just time consuming. Hacar warned that it isn't a task to take on by yourself, but rather with a group of friends or family members.
After all was said and done, we made enough for two large servings of mantı that night, a large pot of yüzük corbası or ring soup for the next night, and and a freezer full for when Diana visits.
To freeze, set mantı out on the balcony for a few hours to dry it (it was evening, please don't try setting it in the sun). Then pack into Tupperware, and pop it into the freezer.
Boil the mantı for about 15 minutes, spoon into a bowl and cover with the best sauce ever.
Directions below:
Unfortunately this is where we stopped taking photos because I was busy with this guy. Shortest napper ever. Lucky me.
The sauce has two parts:
Yogurt sauce: 2 cups of yogurt mixed with 5 cloves of crushed garlic (cold).
Topping: Heat 3-4 TBSP olive oil in a pan, stir in 1TBSP of tomato paste. Add a tsp of dried mint, and a 1/2 tsp crushed red pepper.
Layer the yogurt sauce first with a small amount of the red sauce on top.
yoğurt, sarımsak, zeytin yağ, domates salçası, nane, pul kırımızı biber
Eat with a baby on your lap for maximum enjoyment.
Posts
