Despite that it has qualities which have become rare in modern cook books. That is it exudes a passion for a cuisine which in the 70's was little known in the west. Each chapter has a narrative which are based on the author's affectionate memories of her time living in the middle east. She relates folk tales and old myths and contemporary stories. Her book had the sort of quality that Elizabeth David's books had. That is she portrayed a cuisine and a style of life that seemed exotic but attractive and which people explored.

With the preparation of food when a cook has some experience one tends to alter recipes slightly depending on taste and to achieve the sort of texture and thickness one desired. Thus unlike previous reviewers I have not had many recipes not work although this is to say it might not have happened.

This book arrived in Australia about the same time that we started to have significant numbers of migrants from the middle east. It started to sell at the time when Lebanese and Turkish restaurants started to become popular. It enabled people to make hommos, felafels and flat bread at home.

To some extent the work of the book has been done as now most of the food products are available in supermarkets.

The acceptance of Middle Eastern Cuisine has enriched Australia. In a time in which all of us are becoming health conscious it allows one to incorporate a range of low fat items into our diet which are rich in vitamins and proteins.

This book may be a little dated but it will always remain a classic.


Let the buyer beware!   August 1, 2000
 4 out of 10 found this review helpful

The more I have studied Middle Eastern food, the less enthusiastic I have become about this book. Rather than repeat the criticisms found in the June 13 customer review (which are quite legitimate), I feel I must voice my own reservations.

To begin with, the author doesn't provide essential information on ingredients. Many important ones are not even mentioned. Nor is there any discussion of arak (raki) or of the region's wines. There is nothing on traditional utensils and no menus. Little is said about the culinary specialties of various places. For example, Roden doesn't tell us that karabij (page 404) is an Aleppan specialty; in fact the full Arabic name of this popular pastry is karabij halab (Aleppo karabij). Nor does she mention that both Damascus and Tripoli have long been renowned for their sweets, including ice cream. Her remarks about amardine (page 382) don't include Damascus, a city celebrated for this confection, which it has exported to many parts of the world for centuries.

There are glaring mistakes in this book. For instance, the oldest Arab culinary manual that has been found dates not from the twelfth century but from the tenth (page 7). On page 8 Roden implies that Assyrians and Babylonians are something other than Mesopotamians, which, of course, they are not! On page 12 she refers to burghul as "the Turkish burghul (cracked wheat)." She is wrong on three counts: (1) there is no proof that burghul is Turkish in origin; it may well have been eaten in this area centuries before the Turks arrived; (2) the Turks call this product bulgur, not burghul, which is its Arabic name; and (3) burghul, unlike cracked wheat, is precooked. On page 135 Roden erroneously states that omelets do not appear in early Arab culinary literature. The Kitab al Wusla il al Habib, to which she refers on page 177, was written in the thirteenth (not the twelfth) century and contains 74 (not 500) recipes for chicken. The word for broad brown beans in Arabic is "ful," not "ful medames," which is the name of a dish using these beans (page 268). The usual conclusion to a Middle Eastern meal is fruit, not sweets (page 373). On page 404 Roden incorrectly identifies soapwort (erh halawa) as bois de Panama. Yet this author has been praised for her high standards of scholarship!

This volume is riddled with shortcomings. Though there is as yet no definitive cookbook that covers the entire region, readers may want to look at "The Complete Middle East Cookbook" by Tess Mallos, which at least includes more countries and contains recipes that are much better written.


Let the buyer beware!   June 28, 2000
 10 out of 22 found this review helpful

The more I have studied Middle Eastern food, the less enthusiastic I have become about this book. After reading the June 13 customer review, I feel I must voice my own reservations. Rather than repeat that reader's criticisms, I wish to point out some additional deficiencies that cast doubt on the credibility of those in the food profession who have praised this book so highly.

To begin with, the author doesn't provide essential information on ingredients. Many important ones are not even mentioned. Nor is there any discussion of arak (raki) or of the region's wines. There is nothing on traditional utensils and no menus. Little is said about the culinary specialties of various places. For example, Roden doesn't tell us that karabij (page 404) is an Aleppan specialty; in fact the full Arabic name of this popular pastry is karabij halab (Aleppo karabij). Nor does she mention that both Damascus and Tripoli have long been renowned for their sweets, including ice cream. Her remarks about amardine (page 382) don't include Damascus, a city celebrated for this confection, which it has exported to many parts of the world for centuries.

There are glaring mistakes in this book. For instance, the oldest Arab culinary manual that has been found dates not from the twelfth century but from the tenth (page 7). On page 8 Roden implies that Assyrians and Babylonians are something other than Mesopotamians, which, of course, they are not! On page 12 she refers to burghul as "the Turkish burghul (cracked wheat)." She is wrong on three counts: (1) there is no proof that burghul is Turkish in origin; it may well have been eaten in this area centuries before the Turks arrived; (2) the Turks call this product bulgur, not burghul, which is its Arabic name; and (3) burghul, unlike cracked wheat, is precooked. On page 135 Roden erroneously states that omelets do not appear in early Arab culinary literature. The Kitab al Wusla il al Habib, to which she refers on page 177, was written in the thirteenth (not the twelfth) century and contains 74 (not 500) recipes for chicken. The word for broad brown beans in Arabic is "ful,"not "ful medames," which is the name of a dish using these beans (page 268). The usual conclusion to a Middle Eastern meal is fruit, not sweets (page 373). On page 404 Roden incorrectly identifies soapwort (erh halawa) as bois de Panama. So much for her high standards of scholarship.

That this volume should have been considered the standard work on Middle Eastern cooking for over a quarter century by many so-called food authorities says a great deal about those who are passing judgment. It is riddled with shortcomings! Though there is as yet no definitive cookbook that covers the entire region, readers may want to look at "The Complete Middle East Cookbook" by Tess Mallos, which at least includes more countries and contains recipes that are much better written.


Highly overrated   June 14, 2000
 11 out of 17 found this review helpful

I was quite disappointed with this book. Many of the recipes yield very mediocre results, and some don't work at all. For example, the recipe for tabbouleh produces a salad that has little but a name in common with the genuine article. To begin with, it calls for 1/2 pound (2 cups) fine burghul, which doesn't make sense since 1/2 pound yields only about 1 1/4 cups. The quantities for other ingredients are also incorrect. For each cup of burghul one should use at the very least three times as much parsley as specified and about twice as much onion, mint, olive oil, and lemon juice. "A little tomato" is suggested as an option, yet this salad is hardly worth making without a generous amount of tomatoes. Also, the recipe doesn't specify that flat-leaf (not curly) parsley and spearmint (not peppermint) should be used. The author writes that tabbouleh is traditionally served with boiled vine leaves, or raw lettuce or cabbage leaves. Actually, it is served with fresh vine leaves, romaine, or white cabbage leaves.

Ms. Roden's burghul pilaf is another disaster. Her recipe calls for 4 cups burghul, which serves at least 12 (not 6)! It neglects to specify what size burghul to use (it should be coarse rather than fine), calls for an excessive amount of butter, and uses less than half the quantity of liquid required. The recipe for meat eggah (omelet) doesn't work because the meat should be browned (not raw) before being combined with the eggs. The recipe for dondurma kaymakli (ice cream) asks for 1 teaspoon sahlab or cornstarch, which is wrong. Far more sahlab is required for this recipe to work, and cornstarch will not work at all.

The recipes often fail to provide essential information, nor are they consistent. They frequently neglect to specify the type and size of pan needed, whether or not to cover the pan during cooking, how long to cook the ingredients and if and when to stir them, whether to use high, medium, or low heat, and how far to place the food from the heat source when broiling or grilling. They often don't specify the amount of butter or oil needed, what kind of vinegar to use, what size and/or weight eggplant is required, and, sometimes, what size burghul to use.

Recipes for many well-known dishes are missing. There is little information on Middle Eastern breads; some of the most important ones, for example khubz markuk and its regional variations, are not even mentioned. Several countries, among them Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and the Yemen, are very poorly represented.

The book could have been better organized. For instance, rice and burghul aren't discussed in the same chapter, which would have been appropriate since they are both grains and can often be substituted for each other in recipes. Also, the index leaves much to be desired.

This cookbook is hardly the standard work it has been made out to be. Readers will need to look elsewhere.