'Bouleh, 'bouleh!*

My husband accused me of making too much food the other day.  He did it in a way that compared my cooking to the spending habits of Marie Antoinette… Overzealous. 

Apparently when I prepare meals for the two of us, we wind up with enough to feed at least four, sometimes eight additional people.  He then went on to suggest that I start halving recipes in order to keep from wasting food.

Unfortunately, I have a huge problem with this.  See, I cook extra food for one reason and one reason alone: Leftovers.  Personally, I enjoy a sandwich for lunch as much as the next person (although I will mention I am incredibly picky when it comes to the preparation of said sandwiches), but if I had to choose, I’d go with leftover lunches every time.   Do you ever find yourself excited over the possibility of eating last night’s dinner a day or two (or three) later?  It happens to me more often than I'd like to admit.

I will concede he left me feeling guilty about it.  Maybe he doesn’t love leftovers as much as I do.  Perhaps he eats more of them than I ever will (but c’mon people, isn’t this one of the assumed “husband responsibilities?”).  Either way, we are clearly at a standstill in our beliefs.

There is one recipe I will never feel bad about making excessive amounts of and it’s tabbouleh. I have a sneaking suspicion there are one of two things happening in the minds of our readers right now.  One is, “I love tabbouleh!”  The other is, “What’s tabbouleh?”  For those of you who don’t know, I’m about to change your life.

Tabbouleh is a dish that comes to us from our Lebanese brothers and sisters across the Atlantic.  Essentially, it’s a salad made with bulgar wheat, cucumbers, parsley, mint, green onion, and the holy trinity of Mediterranean cooking: olive oil, lemon juice and salt.  Not only is it incredibly easy to make- you feel good, healthy and nourished while eating it, too. 

My husband still manages to complain about leftovers when I make tabbouleh, but it’s usually because I’ve eaten the entire bowl on my own.

Happy Eating,

Elizabeth

Tabbouleh

1 heaping cup bulgar wheat**

1 bunch of parsley

1 bunch of mint

1 bunch of green onions (scraggly ends removed)

1 cucumber, peeled and chopped

Lemon juice  ***

Extra virgin olive oil ***

Salt ***

Pour cup of bulgar wheat into a large bowl.  Pour hot water over the bulgar wheat (at least enough to cover the top of the wheat) and let sit for an hour.  Drain in colander and get as much excess water out of the grain as you can.

Using a food processor (I love this one particularly), blend the parsley, mint and green onions (stems and all) until well chopped (not to the point of green paste, but enough where the bits of herbs are very small).  If you do not have a food processor, a blender will do, however, there will be a considerable amount of scraping down the sides in comparison). 

Combine green mixture with bulgar wheat.  Add lemon juice, olive oil and salt***.  Finally, add cucumber and serve immediately.  Can be stored for up to a week in the fridge, but tastes best eaten fresh.

* I thought I should mention why I chose this particular title for this write-up.  When I was little, my mom made tabbouleh all the time.  Whenever she’d whip up a batch, she’d start singing, “’Bouleh, ‘Bouleh” to the tune of “Wooly Bully,” while moving her arms back and forth like she was doing a fast-paced hula dance. I urge you to do the same.

** Bulgar wheat can be found at most health food stores, and some regular supermarkets.  Look for it in the bulk or grain sections of your favorite grocery.

*** Were you freaking out back there when I didn’t put measurements down for the lemon, olive oil and salt?  That’s because it’s up to you, silly!  I know what you’re thinking… “How will I know what’s enough?!!!!”  Simple: you trust your palate and go slow.  Remember, it’s always easy to add more, but it’s impossible to take flavor out.  I would start by squeezing the juice of one juicy lemon, adding two tablespoons of olive oil, and a hearty pinch of salt (salt is a VERY necessary component of this dish).  Mix it, taste it, then go from there.