In culinary circles, Yotam Ottolenghi is known mainly for his modern Middle Eastern cooking. He was born in Jerusalem, served in the Israel Defense Forces, studied literature in Tel Aviv and worked as an editor for the Israeli newspaper Haaretz. He relocated internationally a few times and eventually settled in London to study pastry cooking at the famed Le Cordon Bleu.
Ottolenghi has had an extremely successful career in England as a pastry chef and a restauranteur, and has become known worldwide as an author, newspaper columnist and television personality. In October 2024, Ottolenghi released his 12th cookbook, “Ottolenghi Comfort: A Cookbook.” This book was a collaboration with three of his friends — also chefs — who come from diverse ethnic backgrounds. It includes just over 300 pages of delicious recipes and beautiful pictures that will make your mouth water.
The book begins with a deep dive into the philosophy behind “comfort food” and why this term means different things to different people. I can honestly say I’ve never read so much text in a cookbook that didn’t get straight to the recipes, but the insights about why certain foods give us comfort were enlightening. Ottolenghi and his co-authors outline what they see as the four keys to comforting food:
1. Who we eat with — Often, a meal can call back a memory of the people we’ve shared it with or those who have prepared it for us. The joy of family and community brings deep emotions to the table. Even when you eat a dish that is prepared in a slightly different way than you remember, it can still stir those feelings of nostalgia and familiarity.
2. Why we eat — Aside from needing basic nourishment, food can offer structure and simplicity that we miss when life is over-scheduled and we are over-taxed. Making “the same old thing” can be easy, safe and comforting.
3. What we eat — We all have different ideas of what qualifies as “comfort foods,” but across the globe they tend to have three things in common — carbs, fat and sugar. These foods are often guilty pleasures we eat in times of stress, and they can actually affect our unconscious mind as well as body chemistry.
4. How we eat — Whether we’re sitting on the sofa, eating with our hands, holding a warm bowl or sharing something we’ve made for a crowd, the act of eating plays a big role in what makes food comforting.
Each recipe in the book is accompanied by an explanation of what makes the dish comforting, what or who inspired it, its ethnic flavor profile or what makes it so delicious. These insights combine with beautiful photography, sure to inspire readers to try their hand in the kitchen.
Some of the dishes are new takes on familiar recipes (like Matza Ball Soup with a Yemeni spice blend), while many may be unfamiliar as they are more common in other cultures (like Bohemian Fish Pie.) There are recipes for vegans, vegetarians and meat-eaters alike.
Sections of the book are: Eggs, crepes, pancakes; Soups, dips, spreads; Fritters and other fried things; Comfort veg; Roasted chicken and other sheet pan dishes; Dals, stews, curries; Noodles, rice, tofu; Pasta, polentas, potatoes; Pies, pastry, bread; Sweet things.
Three recipes from COMFORT, shared here, include Ottolenghi’s insights about why he finds them comforting.
Please send any feedback to recipes@americanisraelite.com.
Dutch apple cake – serves 8-10
photo: Food-Column-1
Courtesy of Marcie Rosenston.
Pastry
1 1/4 cups/280g unsalted butter, at room temperature
Packed 1/3 cup/75g light brown sugar
1 1/4 cups/255g granulated sugar, plus 1 teaspoon extra for sprinkling
1 teaspoon lemon zest
Scraped seeds of 1 vanilla pod
1 egg and 2 egg yolks
2 1/2 cups/310g all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
2/3 cup/65g almond flour
1 1/4 teaspoon mahleb (leave this out if you don’t have it)
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
Filling
1/3 cup/40g sliced almonds, toasted and roughly crushed
1/3 cup/50g raisins
3 tablespoons dark rum (or apple juice)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
4 Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, and cut into 1-inch/2.5cm chunks (5 2/3 cups/560g)
2 Pink Lady apples, peeled, cored, and cut into 1-inch/2.5cm chunks (3 1/4 cups/320g)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3 tablespoons light brown sugar
1 tablespoon molasses
1/8 teaspoon salt
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon mahleb (leave this out if you don’t have it)
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 cup/20g panko breadcrumbs
To serve
Whipped cream
This cake is the result of two sets of memories. First, Yotam’s of living and studying in Amsterdam, where he’d stop by a café called Villa Zeezicht, now sadly closed, for a slice of their famous apple cake. The second set of memories are Verena’s [one of the co-authors], of the German cake she grew up on — gedeckter apfelkuchen (covered apple cake) — raisin-filled and covered with a thin layer of lemon icing. Verena was also inspired by another Dutch sweet staple, boterkoek (literally “butter cake”), sweet, egg-rich and very buttery, which pairs beautifully with the spiced apple filling. Either way, this cake is always served with whipped cream.
Ingredients note: Mahleb is an aromatic ground spice made from the pit of the St Lucie Cherry. It’s wonderfully distinct bitter and almond like but if you don’t have any, just leave it out.
First make the pastry. Put the butter into the bowl of a stand mixer, with the paddle attachment in place. Add both sugars, the lemon zest and vanilla seeds and mix on medium speed for two minutes, until lightened in color and creamy (but not super fluffy and airy.) Whisk together the egg and yolks and set aside a small spoonful of it to use for brushing later. Add the remaining egg to the mixer bowl and continue to mix, until just combined. Decrease the speed to low, add the dry ingredients and mix just until a dough forms. Transfer the dough to a piece of parchment paper and form it into a rectangle. Wrap it in parchment and chill in the fridge for at least 1 1/2 hours (or overnight.)
Preheat the oven to 375°F and place a parchment-lined baking sheet inside.
Butter the bottom and sides of a 9-inch/23cm springform cake pan, line the bottom with parchment paper and set aside.
Divide the pastry equally into thirds. Take one piece of the pastry (keeping the rest in the fridge) and transfer it to a well-floured work surface. Using a floured rolling pin, roll the dough out into a circle, about 8 1/2 inches/22cm wide. Use this to line the bottom of the cake pan, using your fingers to push it into the corners of the pan — don’t worry if your dough breaks up or tears a little — just patch it up as you go.
Take a second piece of pastry and roll it out into a 5 1/2 x 11 1/2 inch/14x29cm rectangle. Cut it in half lengthwise (so you have two strips) and use it to line the sides of the pan. Again, use your fingers push it into the sides and corners as needed. Set aside in the fridge. Roll out the remaining piece of dough into an 8 1/2 inch/22cm wide circle and set aside on a parchment-lined plate in the fridge.
Combine all the ingredients for the filling in a large bowl and mix together until well combined. Remove the pastry-lined cake pan from the fridge and spoon the filling into it. It will seem like a lot, but it will cook down. Remove the pastry circle from the fridge and place on top of the filling. Seal the top by pinching it together with the pastry sides. Brush the surface with the reserved egg mixture and sprinkle with the extra granulated sugar. Place on the prepared baking sheet and bake for about 1 hour, rotating the pan halfway through, until deeply golden.
Remove the cake from the oven and allow it to cool on a wire rack for at least 2 hours. Carefully run a small knife between the cake and the sides of the pan before releasing the spring lock. Cut into thick wedges and serve with the whipped cream alongside.
Charred sprouts with olive oil and lemon – Serves 6, as a side
2 lbs and 2 oz (1kg) Brussels sprouts, trimmed and halved lengthwise
12 garlic cloves, peeled and left whole
1 small, hot green chile, pierced a few times with a sharp knife (1/2 oz/15g)
8 tablespoons (120 ml) olive oil
2 onions, finely chopped (2 cups/300g)
1 cup/240ml vegetable (or chicken) stock
2 lemons; finely grate the zest to get 2 teaspoons, then juice to get 3 tablespoons
1/2 oz/10g tarragon leaves, roughly chopped
1/2 oz/10g dill fronds, roughly chopped
1/2 oz/10g parsley, roughly chopped
1 1/4 oz/35g preserved lemon (1-2), flesh and seeds discarded, skin julienned
Salt and black pepper
Is it possible to write a recipe for Brussels sprouts and not say that this is one to convert all sprout-doubters? We suspect not! But this is the one! The combination of charring and then slow-braising the sprouts makes them so very soft and sweet. The lemon and herbs then do their job to make the dish both vibrant and comforting.
Getting ahead: These can be made in advance, if you want to get ahead (or even the day before). Simply hold back on the fresh herbs and stir these in just before serving.
Place a large sauté pan, for which you have a lid, on high heat. Once smoking, add a quarter of the sprouts and cook about 5 minutes, tossing the pan occasionally until they are charred in places. Transfer to a baking sheet and continue in batches with the remaining sprouts. Add the garlic and the chile to the pan and cook in the same way, until charred all over — about five minutes — then add to the sheet with the sprouts. Set the pan aside to cool slightly.
Add 6 tablespoons/90 ml of the oil to the pan and place on medium-high heat. Once hot, add the onions and cook for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until soft and golden brown. Add the charred sprouts, garlic and chili, the stock, 1 1/2 teaspoons of salt and a good grind of black pepper. Bring to a simmer, lower the heat to medium-low and cook for about 20 minutes, covered, until the sprouts are very soft. Stir in the lemon zest and juice.
Meanwhile, put the herbs, preserved lemon, the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil, 1/4 teaspoon of salt and plenty of pepper into a small bowl and mixed to combine.
When ready to serve, stir the herb mixture into the sprouts, just to incorporate. Serve warm, or at room temperature.
