When my sister B was in third grade, her teacher asked the students in the class to go around the room, naming their favorite dessert items. From among the common answers of cookies, brownies and ice cream emerged a gem: upon her turn, B confidently stated that her favorite dessert was...ka'ak.
Ka'ak is a traditional pastry in the Middle East. |
So imagine Mrs. Smith's surprise when her star pupil stated that her favorite dessert was "cock."
I always felt a little different than most of my friends, growing up "brown" in a "white" suburb. I had a big crooked nose (they mostly had turned up button noses that I so coveted), wiry dark hair (I would have killed for silky blond locks!), and a last name that no one could pronounce. For the longest time, I didn't realize that the delicious food that my mom* often prepared wasn't standard in most homes: khoubiz wa laban, hummus, baba ganoush, fatayeh, kibbi, taboule, baqlawa and so on... I didn't know that most people don't know what saha means (basically like "bless you" when someone coughs or sneezes), so I didn't understand why I got weird looks when I said it.
There are hundreds of ways to make ka'ak. |
Anyway, if you research ka'ak recipes, you are sure to find hundreds of options to suit your palate. Some cultures use sesame seeds and make a slightly more savory version. Others pepper the batter with anise seeds. It can be prepared like a doughy donut, or a crunchy cookie. Of course, you can always incorporate the traditional Arabic favorites of rosewater or orange blossom water. Growing up, my great aunts always made it sweet, heavy on the anise (mmm!), and shaped like a roll but with the chewy texture of a bagel.
I cannot read the previous paragraph without chuckling. If you don't know what I'm referring to, then read it out loud. If you still don't understand, then you are an innocent creature that I do not wish to corrupt.
Ahhh, euphemisms...
A simple Google search of ka'ak will yield thousands of images and recipes. Just make sure you spell it the transliterated way (ka'ak) and not the phonetic way (cock.) |
At any rate, I supposed I better get on to the point of this post. Ka'ak can be a pretty labor intensive treat. (Baaahahahaha! Read that out loud to your co-workers!) If you are limited on time and resources (as I usually am these days with a busy six-month-old), here is a quick and easy shortcut that I like to call...
A whole mess of mock ka'ak...tra la la!!! |
Mock Ka'ak
Makes approximately 20-24 cookies,
depending on how big you like them...
(Oh boy. There she goes again.)
Ingredients:
For cookies
- 1 box of white cake mix
- 2 eggs
- 1/2 cup Canola oil
- A few tsp (up to 1 tbsp) of anise extract
For simple syrup (optional)
- 1/2 cup water
- 1/2 cup sugar/other sweetener
- 1/2 tbsp lemon juice
- A few tsp of orange blossom water (if desired, may adjust to taste)
Directions:
For cookies
- Pre-heat oven to 350 (Although I usually set mine at 325 when a recipe calls for 350. It depends on your oven and how well you know it!)
- Mix cake mix, eggs, oil and anise in a bowl. Drop by spoonfuls onto a prepared cookie sheet.
- Bake in oven for 8-12 minutes. (I did one cookie sheet of 12 for 10 minutes, a second cookie sheet of 9 for 8 minutes. Always better to undercook than overcook!)
- Remove from oven and allow to cool.
For simple syrup (optional)
- Add water, sugar/sweetener and lemon juice to a heavy bottom pan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
- Reduce to simmer for about 10 minutes.
- Add orange blossom water, if desired. (Add by small amounts at first and adjust to taste.)
- Using a basting brush, brush warm syrup over cooled cookies.
- Extra syrup may be stored in fridge to add to coffee, tea, soda water, pancakes/waffles, oatmeal, rice pudding...whatever!
Let's have a little stereotypical fun. Yes, I actually own an oil lamp (it plays music). And my grandpa got those shoes when he was in Morocco in WWII. |
*SIDE NOTE: Although my mom is not Arabic (she is of European and both "dots and feathers" Indian descent) she learned to dominate Lebanese cooking. Furthermore, she taught me how to cook that way as well. I am incredibly grateful to her for learning this part of my heritage, so that it will live for generations to come.
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