Searching the Ancient Libraries of Tombouctou for Morisco Recipes from Al Andalus
The Wood-Oven Cook in the Mediterranean Garden
On a sleepy sunday morning, in my little town stuck to the granite mountainside up the hill from Madrid, after a couple of espressos in bed — I wandered into the salon to catch-up on the developments overnight on my growing list of digital sources: to increase communication with my teenage daughters, WhatsApp; Twitter to get the word out; Medium to see how my incipient cookbook is being digested; then over to Facebook for the daily doings of my friends, acquaintances, and a few new contacts that friends had connected me with.
Last week while I photographed the African trade beads my Malian friend from Tombouctou, Cisse Boubacar “Bouba”, had recently returned to Spain with; we discussed the recipes of the Sephardim found in the records of the Spanish Inquisition and I wondered aloud what culinary secrets the ancient libraries of Tombouctou held of the Moriscos expelled by Queen Isabella five centuries ago. “I have a friend that runs one of those libraries, Bouba said, “I'll tell him to be your Facebook friend.” He continued: “Here he is with his relatives from Andalucia last summer: those that stayed and those who left. The African branch got blacker and the Andalusi, whiter.”
But this sunday morning in Spain, I was surprised to see my daughters birthday cake appear of the Facebook feed of the Fondo Kati Tombouctou.
“Timbuktu Chocolate” Cake
But what should we name her cake that we had just “made-up”, suggesting “Timbuktu Chocolate” cake because of the unusual combination of ingredients more common on the Levant side of the mediterranean than the European.
We talked about Ferran Adria’s decision long ago to not repeat the recipes of any other cooks — as a validation of our cooking experiments together. We reminisced about the many different versions of brownies we'd made with all our favorite things, baked — and how good they always emerged from the oven. Even the one we forgot for a couple of hours at low heat that reproduced those fun Italian cookies whose name has long escaped from my vocabulary and whose recipe, never seen.
Our “made-up” otherworldly cake has lots of rye sourdough starter and Moroccan yeast; butter; cream, 5 egg yolks; orange blossom water — all the wet ingredients mixed together with the brown sugar and pure chocolate powder— but the magic is produced by the star anise; cloves; cinnamon; 1/2 cardamom black pod 1/2 cardamom black pod — ground up in a mortar and pestle by Carolina’s older sister out in the sunshine and away from the sparks. Carolina asked how much of the white flour she had insisted on instead of whole rye. I replied that it was her cake and she must decide. Without the flour or with much less and with the addition of cocoa butter and you'd have a flavorful bonbon.
The merengue was an after thought — we just had to do something with the 5 egg yolks. So with the hand mixer we added a little white sugar, much less than called for, for a traditional merengue, then a healthy dollop of grenadine syrup; a little sprinkle more of white sugar to help it set up good; and a squirt of fresh lemon.
As my friend from the Tasting Jerusalem community said “ A family collaboration — they are the best! love that combo of spices — exotic but comforting.” A photograph of a slice would have been fun, but this cake was on it’s way to being gobbled up. The very light texture likely came from the cup of whole rye sourdough and the generous amount of dried Moroccan yeast brought alive with a little sugar and water. The lack of sugar was easily compensated for with the rich spice blend. The bar has been raised higher for the next birthday cake — MINE!!
