plate 36: lebanon

Me and Middle Eastern cuisine go way back. With Egyptian-born grandparents and my grandmother who had an incredible repertoire of Middle Eastern delights, I grew up on this kind of food. Even now I try to get my fix where I can - Almond Bar in Darlo (Syrian), Emad's in Surry Hills (Lebanese) and Dergah (a Turkish takeaway chain) are some of my faves.

Although they make primarily Turkish cuisine, Dergah is responsible for my love of kibbeh. Kibbeh is the national dish of Lebanon, but like so many Middle Eastern dishes, the borders blur slightly. Kibbeh used to be a Sunday-night takeaway special at our house, which is apparently the day it's traditionally eaten in Lebanese households, too. My mum and I would buy a bagful of kibbeh and eat them with a side of half-hollowed-out eggplant with a thick capsicum and onion filling. While the eggplant was awesome, the kibbeh was the highlight.

Kibbeh takes on a few forms in Lebanon. There's kibbeh nayeh (raw kibbeh), kibbeh rass (fried kibbeh) and kibbeh bil-saneeya (baked kibbeh), which was what I tried my hand at. Made from lamb mince, burghul (cracked wheat), spices, herbs and pine nuts, kibbeh are shaped like little torpedoes. The baked version consists of a raw meat and burghul mixture that's filled with a cooked meat mixture before being baked. As soon as I'd made the cooked mince mixture with pine nuts, onion, allspice and sumac I breathed in that scent I'm so fond of. It smelled exactly like the kibbeh of my youth - beee-autiful.

While the kibbeh were easy to make, I must admit it was fairly time consuming to prepare, but then again I was making 40 of them for my mate Lauren's spring fling. Every year, on the first weekend in spring, Lauren gets her front garden ready for an afternoon of boozing and barbecuing. Kibbeh would be the perfect barbie finger food.

Sadly though, Sydney spring came and left after its first day. Sunshine graced us on 1 September, then disappeared as swiftly as it appeared, leaving spring fling day grey and rainy. Poor Lauren was heartbroken, but it meant more kibbeh for me and AJ - hehe. Lunch was kibbeh wrapped in white bread (that I'd bought to make fairy bread for the spring fling) with homemade babaganoush.

That was a winner, too. I've made a few dips in my time and after having made this delicious number, I really wondered why I don't do it more often. For a fraction of the cost of bought versions, they're so much healthier when you make them at home, too. Plus, you're guaranteed of no nasty preservatives or additives, and they taste sooooo much fresher.

This babaganoush was fabulous and very easy to make, although there was a little hiccup. AJ had been going on all week about how the gas for our barbecue was lasting so long, but two minutes into turning my eggplant, the flame extinguished, leaving me to stick the eggplant under the grill of the oven.

It was a slight shame because it probably didn't have the wonderful smoky flavour the barbecue would have given it, but the result was still mighty tasty - it was so deliciously garlicky and tangy. Once you take the eggplant skin off, pop the the rest of it in a big bowl and use a potato masher to break it up. The tip from the recipe I used was not to use a blender - mashing it by hand keeps the seeds intact which gives a better, less pasty consistency. After that you just stir in tahini, lemon juice, crushed garlic, natural yoghurt and olive oil until it's smooth.

Voila - homemade babaganoush! Apparently the word loosely translates to "the Imam wept". No one knows for sure whether he wept because it tasted so darn good or because of the cost of the olive oil used to make it, but I know which reason I'm leaning towards...