My name is Megs. But who I am isn't exactly that important. Who I would like to introduce is Ursola Elizabeth Josephine Calleja.

Also known as my Grandmother.

My grandmother is and was a lot of things: a knitter, a baseball-watcher, a strong-willed woman, and a cook. In fact, according to my dad, she was a fantastic cook. And I've decided that these recipes should live on in my kitchen. The traditional dishes, the family favourites, and the smells of the Mediterranean. I've created Maltese Mondays. This blog is a nod to the Maltese cooking of my grandmother.

Let's talk about Ursola Elizabeth Josephine, or Lena, for a second. After surviving World War II in a country that was routinely attacked for its prime location, she met a boy, got hitched, packed her sons and belongings into very few suitcases (belongings, not the sons), left the majority of her family, and hopped on a boat across the entire Atlantic to Halifax's Pier 21. Then she got on a train and raised five boys and her brother in a one-bedroom apartment without speaking English. In inner-city Toronto.

And I'm often wishing my apartment had hardwood floors.

So I've basically established that my grandmother's a boss. Carrying on her cooking probably seems like such a trivial thing. But once a week my kitchen's going to be Valletta on a weekday. Full. Of. Food.

I should mention that I have one other Grandmother as well, also a mighty fine cook, whose homemade buns are better than yours. Why did I choose Lena's cooking and not Elsie's (to whom, by the way, I owe my middle name)? A few reasons. For one, Elsie kept recipe cards. In English. Elsie also had daughters who know many of her recipes. Elsie was also cooking until about 8 years ago so many children and grandchildren (all, like, 80 of us) have been able to carry on the Moore cuisine. Lena didn't have any of that; she never told anyone her recipes. So I've gathered my dad's memory, a few things I was exposed to or that I remember from fam-jam potlucks many years ago, traditional recipe books and what I saw/smelled/tasted in Malta. Perhaps down the line I'll instill Scottish Sundays, without the haggis.

My treasured travel companion.

Ever met a Maltese Scot? What on earth is that? A plaid-wearing, loud-talking gal with a love for Limoncello? This adorable creature? Well, you are about to find out.

Welcome to Maltese Mondays.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

bigilla

Bigilla.
Maltese broad bean dip.
Or, as I like to call it, "I'm dipping carbs into beans and I don't feel bad about it".

 Having friends over? Bigilla is the perfect appetizer. No friends? These tasty beans won't judge.

Seriously, bigilla is a healthy dip. And not healthy as in eat-a-bowl-of-hummus-and-have-smelly-chickpea-gas. For this, I am happy. I ate this a lot in Malta, either in restaurants or at relatives' houses as part of the dragon-sized hors d'oeuvres spread us Europeans love.

Bean terminology:
Broad beans: you can also call me fava beans. I sort of look like a lima bean.
Tic beans: I'm not sure excactly how I differ from a broad bean, I'm just smaller with a hard shell (but am a sensitive bean on the inside).
Butter bean: I'm a lima bean.

Bigilla uses broad beans or tic beans. If you can't find these fresh or dried, butter beans can be a substitute. They are even lighter on your belly, meaning you should probably eat double the amount. Soak and drain the beans if they are dried first. Then, cook them in boiling water and drain them. You can remove the thin shells that are sliding off the bean if you want, too. Next, mash them with parsley, olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic, cayenne or tabasco. Feeling adventurous? Add a little marjoram and mint.

Serve with crackers, breadsticks, or spread on toast.

Dip away, friends. Because nobody knows you like carbs and beans do.

Cooking tunes: nosnow/noalps "Far Into the Night". This song by indie-maltese-rockers is worth watching if solely for the use of key-tar.

1 comment:

  1. This sounds spicy.... I'ma gonna try sans tabasco...and I'm not gonna feel bad about it :)

    ReplyDelete