1. Pat diced eggplant dry with paper towel and salt lightly.
2. In a large bowl, mix tomato paste, vinegar, olives, sugar, basil, oregano, salt, and pepper; set aside.
3. Heat olive oil in a large skillet. Add green peppers, onions, and mushrooms, and sauté on high heat for 4 minutes, stirring occasionally.
4. Lower heat, add eggplant, and continue cooking for about 7 minutes, until all the vegetables are nicely browned. At the last minute add garlic, and brown quickly.
5. Immediately add contents of bowl, stir the mixture in, cover, and simmer on very low heat for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Serve hot or cold.
Falafel
MAKES ABOUT
25
Abe, a frequent visitor to Israel, loved its most popular national dish. So we decided that, even though he never offered falafel at the Deli, we had to include it in this book. We tested recipe after recipeâwith less-than-thrilling resultsâand were getting close to despair. Then it occurred to us that right across the street from the Deli was a very authentic Yemenite restaurant called Rectangles. Abe used to eat there occasionally and was a friend of owner Gili Tsabari. We stopped in and explained our plight, and chef Tzipora Said kindly shared her falafel expertise. Not only are these falafel delicious, but, of all the recipes we tried, they're also the easiest to prepare. But do plan in advance, since the chickpeas have to soak for at least 6 hours.
¾
pound dried chickpeas
1 cup chopped onion
1 tablespoon chopped or crushed fresh garlic
3 teaspoons cumin
â
cup finely chopped fresh parsley
â
cup finely chopped fresh cilantro
1½ teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
3 tablespoons flour
1½ teaspoons red pepper flakes (optional, for those who prefer spicier falafel)
Soybean oil for frying
2 lemons, halved
ACCOMPANIMENTS
Toasted pita breads, slit open on one side to form a pocket
Cucumber, diced into ½-inch pieces
Fresh tomatoes, diced into ½-inch pieces
Shredded lettuce
Coarsely chopped onions
Tahini sauce
Middle Eastern hot sauce (optional)
1. Soak chickpeas overnight (at least 6 hours). Rinse, drain thoroughly, and pat dry with a towel.
2. Combine raw chickpeas, onions, and garlic in a food processor or grinder, and pulse or grind. If you use a food processor, don't make your mixture perfectly smooth; it should have a slightly pebbly texture. Place mixture in a bowl and add the cumin, parsley, cilantro, salt, pepper, flour, and, if desired, cracked red pepper. Mix thoroughly, using your hands. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour.
3. Form mixture into firm cakes about 2 inches wide and ½ inch high. Refrigerate them for ½ hour or longer.
4. It's easiest to cook falafel in a deep fryer. Place as many falafel patties as fit in one layer in the bottom of your wire basket (do not stack), and set aside. Pour about 1½ inches of soybean oil into your cooking pot, heat to sizzling, submerge wire basket in pot (oil must cover the patties completely), lower heat to medium, and cook for about 5 minutes, until falafel turns a light golden brown. Remove the wire basket, and carefully place falafel patties on a plate covered with paper toweling. Gently pat off excess oil with additional paper toweling. Squeeze some fresh lemon juice over each.
If you don't have a deep fryer, pour about 1 inch of soybean oil into a large skillet, and place patties carefully in the hot oil, using a spatula. Cook as above.
5. Place 3 falafel patties in the bottom of each pita and, layering salad ingredients with tahini sauce, continue filling pitas with a mixture of cucumber, tomato, lettuce, and onion. Serve hot sauce on the side.
Tabbouleh
MAKES ABOUT
2½
QUARTS
Bulgur wheat, a nutritious, nutty grain that figures largely in Middle Eastern cooking, makes a substantial basis for this tangy and refreshing salad. For a variation, substitute couscous (prepare according to directions on box) for bulgur.
1¾ cups bulgur wheat
¼ cup very finely chopped onion
¾ cup finely chopped parsley
2 tablespoons very finely chopped fresh mint (dried if unavailable)
¼ cup lemon juice
¾ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1½ teaspoons salt
¼ teaspoon pepper
2 cups tomatoes, seeded, and chopped into ¼-inch pieces
1 12-ounce jar sweet roasted red peppers, thoroughly drained of liquid and chopped into ¼-inch pieces
1 cup chickpeas
1. Boil 7 cups of water. Place bulgur wheat in a large bowl, and pour boiling water over it. Cover, and let stand for 3 hours. Drain in a strainer, press to thoroughly squeeze out excess water, and return to bowl. Set aside.
2. In another bowl, mix onions, parsley, mint, lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper. Pour over bulgur wheat, and mix in. Place tomatoes and red peppers in a strainer to eliminate excess liquid. Add to bulgur wheat along with chickpeas, and toss to combine. Serve chilled or at room temperature.
Note:
Serving each portion on a bed of lettuce in a domed mold (you can use a dessert cup or shallow wine goblet as a mold) makes for a nice presentation.
Note:
Very fresh, seasonal tomatoes are best; off-season, toss your tomatoes into boiling water to cover for about 40 seconds, until skin peels off easily. Discard skins and seeds before chopping.
PROMOTIONS, PITCHES â¦Â AND PITCHING NO-HITTERS
A
BE
L
EBEWOHL
loved his restaurant, and he promoted it with pride, joy, and enthusiasm. When it came to the Deli, his any-excuse-for-a-party personality came to the fore; hence, such unlikely manifestations as green matzo balls on Saint Patrick's Day or an invitation to runners in the 1990 New York City Marathon to carbo-load on free kasha varnishkes. One way or another, his promotions were always expressions of his abundant generosity. For example, Abe not only invited the blind to free luncheon parties, he also hired major Borscht Belt comedians like Sam Levenson to entertain them and even printed up menus in Braille. Still other promotions were political in natureâlike the eight-foot-high Robert Grossman statue of Mikhail Gorbachev he placed atop the Deli's canopy in 1992 to celebrate the collapse of the Soviet Union. “We owe him so much,” Abe said at the time. “He brought freedom and democracy to the Soviet Union. It was unheard-of before he came to power. He started perestroika.”
Baseball, Hot Dogs â¦Â and Kosher Salamis?
T
HE PARENTS OF
Mets pitcher Frank Viola (Frank Sr. and Helen) were regular customers at the Deli. One day, in 1989, when they stopped by for a bite to eat, a
New York Post
photographer, who happened to be munching pastrami at another table, snapped their picture. This seemingly innocuous occurrence gave rise to one of Abe's wackiest schemes. He announced that he would give a free ten-inch-long salami to anyone presenting a ticket stub from a Mets game won by Viola throughout that season. In those days, Shea Stadium usually sold close to forty thousand seats for Mets games; that's a lotta salami!
Viola lost his first three games after the offer was made in early August.
Finally, he pitched a winning game, but it was at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles, three thousand miles from the Deli. Nevertheless, a Manhattan man, who had sent away for a ticket to the L.A. game but did not attend, showed up at 9:00
A.M.
the next day to claim his prize. Abe gave him two salamis for being the first to cash in.
But things really started hopping in early September, when Shea Stadium flashed the offer on the scoreboard during a Mets-Cardinals game. Dozens of ticket holders began showing up by the seventh inning; since the Mets were clearly going to demolish the Cardinals (Viola pitched a 13-to-1 victory), the Deli didn't hesitate to begin surrendering $7 salamis, more than four hundred of which were claimed in ninety minutes (seven hundred by day's end)! If anyone didn't like salami, they were given $7 worth of other items. One customer got so carried away, he urged Abe to run for mayor. “And everyone who votes for him gets a free salami,” he yelled. Another man stunned Abe with 374 ticket stubs he'd collected from other fans or picked up off the ground! When he explained he was going to donate the salamis to City Harvest, a group that distributes food to the homeless, Abe upped the ante, rounding off the donation and contributing four hundred salamis.
Frank Viola