Shabbat Table
From Friday afternoon through Saturday morning, these dishes perfume the house and tell the family it is time to rest.
T'beet
The overnight Shabbat masterpiece — chicken and spiced rice slow-cooked from Friday to Saturday morning.
Sambusak
Crisp crescent pastries filled with spiced chickpeas or curry paste — made every Friday morning as Shabbat approaches.
Kahi
Flaky, honey-drenched pastry served for Saturday morning breakfast with qishta clotted cream — the taste of Shabbat morning.
T'beet
The great Shabbat dish of the Iraqi Jewish table — a whole chicken buried in fragrant spiced rice, slow-cooked overnight and brought to the table golden and trembling with perfume.
Sambusak
Crisp crescent pastries filled with spiced chickpeas or fragrant curry paste — made every Friday morning so the smell of frying dough announces that Shabbat is coming.
Kahi
Gossamer-thin layers of flaky pastry, soaked in honey and clarified butter, served warm with qishta — the thick clotted cream that is the glory of the Iraqi Jewish Shabbat morning table.
Holiday Table
Each holiday calls its own flavours into being. These are the dishes that mark the turning of the Jewish year.
Kubbeh Hamda
Silky semolina shells filled with spiced lamb, floating in a sour golden broth — the great celebration soup.
Timman Z'affran
Golden saffron rice with caramelised onions and toasted almonds — the rice of every celebration and lifecycle event.
Masgouf
The legendary fish of the Tigris — slow-grilled open over tamarind-spiced coals. The soul of Baghdad on a plate.
Kubbeh Hamda
Semolina dumplings filled with spiced lamb, swimming in a sour-sweet golden broth perfumed with celery, lemon, and dried limes.
Timman Z'affran
The golden rice of Iraqi Jewish celebration — each grain stained amber with saffron, scented with cardamom and rosewater, crowned with deeply caramelised onions, toasted almonds, and plump raisins.
Masgouf
The legendary river fish of the Tigris — butterflied open and slow-grilled over tamarind-scented coals until the skin is crackling and the flesh is smoky, rich, and falling apart. The most ancient dish of Baghdad.
Everyday Table
The quiet meals of a week — Tuesday soups, Thursday stews, the dishes that need no occasion because love is reason enough.
Hamusta
The everyday sour soup — a sharp lemony broth with Swiss chard, meatballs, and the haunting note of dried lime.
Bamia
Slow-braised lamb with okra in a deep tomato-tamarind sauce — one of the great comfort dishes of the Iraqi Jewish kitchen.
Iraqi Salata
The essential Iraqi salad — finely diced tomato, cucumber, and herbs dressed with lemon and sumac, served at every meal.
Hamusta
The everyday sour soup of the Iraqi Jewish kitchen — a bright, lemony broth with Swiss chard, tender meatballs, and the deep background note of dried lime that makes this soup unmistakably Iraqi.
Bamia
Slow-braised lamb with baby okra in a deep, rich sauce of tomatoes, tamarind, and warm spices — one of the most deeply comforting dishes in the Iraqi Jewish repertoire.
Iraqi Salata
The essential Iraqi salad — everything cut small, dressed simply with lemon juice and the fruity tang of sumac, present at every meal from breakfast to the last course of a celebration dinner.
Add Your Own Recipe
Your family's recipes belong in this book too. Write them down here — for yourself, and for every generation after you.
Recipe Details
Ingredients
Method
Linda's Notes (optional)
Our Kitchen
A word about where these recipes come from, and why they matter.
The Jewish community of Baghdad was one of the oldest in the world — present on the banks of the Tigris since the Babylonian exile of 586 BCE, more than 2,600 years ago. At its height, Jews made up more than a third of Baghdad's population, and the city's culture, commerce, and intellectual life were inseparable from their presence.
Iraqi Jewish cooking is a cuisine shaped by that deep history — by Babylonian and Persian influences, by the Ottoman spice routes, by the particular rhythms of a life governed by Shabbat and the Jewish calendar. It is a cuisine of dried limes and rosewater, of baharat and saffron, of slow-cooked overnight dishes and soups that simmer for hours. It is generous, fragrant, and built for feeding people you love.
On Preservation
Between 1948 and 1952, nearly the entire Jewish community of Iraq — some 130,000 people — left or was expelled. They brought almost nothing with them. What they carried, they carried in memory: the names of streets and families, the words of prayers sung in particular melodies, and the recipes that had defined their kitchens for generations.
These recipes are acts of preservation. They are the taste of a world that no longer exists except in the hands and memories of those who remember. Writing them down is a way of saying: this happened, this mattered, this is yours.
A Note on Ingredients
Several ingredients appear again and again in Iraqi Jewish cooking. Loomi (dried limes) give soups and stews their haunting sourness — available at any Middle Eastern grocery. Baharat is the warm spice blend at the heart of every meat dish; buy the Iraqi version if you can. Rosewater gives the rice dishes their floral perfume. Tamarind paste brings the complex sourness to fish and stews. With these four ingredients, you are most of the way to Baghdad.
This book is dedicated to every Iraqi Jewish grandmother whose hands knew these recipes by heart, and to every grandchild learning them now for the first time.