Take the Spice Route

f you have ever walked through a Middle Eastern or North African spice street, you will never forget the intoxicating effect of the mingled scents and the extraordinary displays of red, brown and golden powders, knotted roots, bits of bark, shrivelled pods, seeds, berries, bulbs, and buds. Practically every main town in this region has a spice street in its souk or bazaar, where rows of shops – some as small as cupboards – sell spices and aromatics.

In the Middle East, you know where you are by the smell of the cooking and the taste of the food

Even now, when I smell garlic frying with crushed cumin and coriander seeds, I am instantly transported back to a bustling Egyptian street. Each country has its favourites and its own special combinations so that if you travel with your eyes closed, you can tell where you are by the smell of the cooking and the taste of the food. Cinnamon and allspice are used to flavour meat in Turkey. The sharp, lemony red spice called sumac is popular on salads, kebabs and grilled chicken in Lebanon, Syria, Iran and Turkey. In Tunisia they put harissa in almost everything. The most aromatic cuisines are those of Morocco and Iran; there you can find very delicate combinations of saffron, ginger and cinnamon – sometimes with an additional touch of honey in Morocco.

The use of spices in these countries has had a long time to develop. North Africa and the Middle East was the crossroads on the spice routes between the Far East, central Africa, the Spice Islands and Europe; it formed a transit area for the transport of highly valuable spices. And the middlemen – Arabs and north Africans – fiercely guarded their sources of supply. Ships brought spices from China, Tibet, Malacca, Java and Sumatra as well as India and Ceylon and the east coast of Africa through the Persian Gulf and the Red Sea. Goods were transferred to camels following the caravan routes through the Arabian desert to Palestine and Syria, or came via Cairo in boats on the Nile. Trading ships waited in the Mediterranean to carry them into Europe – and the intermediaries succumbed early on to the culinary attractions of their precious merchandise.

Centuries later, spices still feel special: cooking fish, chicken, meat or vegetables as they are, pure and simple, is great, but spices add another dimension of sensual pleasure and enjoyment. It is something you can explore with just a little experimentation – it doesn’t have to be a big deal.

The secret is to use only a little spice so that the flavour is subtle. You can always add more

When I pan-fry fish, I often mix a teaspoon of ground cumin and a little salt with the flour to coat the fillets. They do this in Egypt and Lebanon and it is delicious. I sometimes add a touch of turmeric with garlic and lemon when I’m braising chicken – just as my mother did. And when I bring home a bag of young spinach leaves, I put them in a pan with a drop of water and steam them with the lid on; when they wilt, I add a knob of butter and a grating of nutmeg. A little allspice and cinnamon add depth to lamb burgers, and I often use a few cardamom pods with a stick of cinnamon or a pinch of saffron to enrich a rice pudding. These light touches of extra flavour make the food special. The secret is to use only a little so that the flavour is subtle and delicate – you can always add more later if you need to.

It is not such a part of the British culture to use a wide variety of spices. But we have been so open to the influence of countries that do, that we should now be confident about using them in our own ways to enhance our own foods. Think of that when you are considering what to make tonight.