I was a Sabra, with an ancient Babylonian Jewish lineage, transplanted to the very British environs of the southern suburbs of Sydney, Australia.

At Kirrawee Public School, I wore a light brown plaid school uniform. I attended the compulsory Church of England scripture class and took part in the nativity plays and the Easter egg hunts (no separation of Church and State).

Auntie Jan, my nanny, took me to the Gothic-style Catholic Church, where I was fascinated by the dim candlelight and the old art (and very offended that I didn’t get what I thought was “candy” that the priest was placing on the tongues of the other congregants).

I enjoyed afternoon teas (scones, sweet biscuits and other baked treats) with the very kindly and refined Australian ladies that worked with my mother in my uncle’s fashion store at the Westfield Mall.

I spent long afternoons at my father’s construction sites, houses that he built from the ground up, starting with metal scaffolding, freshly poured concrete and then painstakingly laid bricks. Many times, I would sit in the cab of his truck, pretending to be a teacher, putting red check marks all through his Thomas Map guide book. I loved watching Anais, a kind and talented Lebanese carpenter, work alongside my father. They would tell each other stories in Arabic and I loved when my father would explode in gales of laughter.

My friends were Regina and Bronwyn, and my nanny’s daughters, Leanne and Cathy. My favorite diversions were my Enid Blyton books and my musical recordings of Cinderella and the Sound of Music.

Living not too far away were my grandmother’s sister, Auntie Naima and her husband Uncle Morris. They had emigrated to Australia in the late 1920’s, via India and Shanghai, China. They were “modern” and enamored by the utopian ideals of Communism and had left their observance of Judaism behind in the old country, the little village of El Azair in Iraq.

My grandparents, Aba Naji and Nana Aziza and my five uncles and two aunts were a one-hour drive away, in the Eastern Suburbs. Every Friday afternoon, we would drive to their home in Rose Bay. That is when the real miracle happened, when my brother Rafi and I would be cocooned in the warmest, most joyous atmosphere ever. That is where we were embraced in our true Jewish heritage.

My grandmother excelled at the job of creating beautiful Shabbats. The long dining room table was set with a white tablecloth, fine china, wine glasses, as well as pitchers of her homemade lemonade.

We were washed and dressed in our finest clothing and we were ready for the magic. We would all sing “Shalom Aleichem” in melodic tones and it felt that the Ayshet Chayil (Woman of Valor) was sung in heartfelt gratitude to my grandmother for her hard work in preparing for Shabbat.

Decades later, I can still remember the delicious food that she served. A first course of fried kubbah, spiced ground beef cased in mashed potato or bulghur, lots of salads and homemade pickles. A main course of saffron chicken, red rice garnished with sliced almonds, plump, fried golden sultanas and caramelized onion, and of course, a kubbah stew.

Dessert was usually her sweet almond and walnut bak’lawa and lots of fruit accompanied by hot cardamom tea and lots of Zemirot (Shabbat songs).

Kubbah is the jewel of the Babylonian Jewish kitchen. Generally, kubbah are dumplings with shells made from semolina or finely ground rice and stuffed with a mixture of ground beef, Italian parsley and onion. These yummy, creamy, slightly chewy, round balls are then gently simmered in a sweet and sour beet broth soup (Kubbah Shwandar) or a tomato-based sweet and sour okra and butternut stew (Kubbah Bamia).

Recently, a friend texted me asking if I had a recipe for Kubbah Hamusta, because her (male) friend was craving some. “Of course, I have a recipe,” I replied to both. “But let’s plan a Friday night dinner at my home and I’ll cook for you.”

“I’m clearing every Friday night in February,” he responded.

At dinner, he told me that his (Ashkenazi) uncle had married a wonderful warm Kurdish woman. Whenever he and his family visited Jerusalem, she invited them to her home on Friday afternoons, where she served them Kubbah Hamusta. He had the best memories of those times.

The Hamusta broth is tart and lemony and generally calls for Swiss chard. I made mine the way I remembered my grandmother’s, with beefy neck bones, lots of onion and garlic, celery and white squash and freshly squeezed lemon juice. I added canned chopped tomatoes because my grandmother started almost every dish with sautéed onions and chopped tomatoes.

We gathered round my Friday night table and when my guest took his first bite of Kubbah Hamusta, the contented sigh was audible.

I’m a long way from the little girl who relished Friday nights at her grandparents table in Sydney. But I’m lucky enough to live in the heart of Jewish Los Angeles, with my husband, my family and my many friends and that I have a chance to create my own magical, memorable Shabbats.

—Sharon

I first tasted Kubbah many years ago in the Mach’ne Yehuda Shuk in Jerusalem. Every time I go back to Jerusalem, Neil and I try to get a table at Azzura, where they are famed for their authentic home style Kubbah stews.

Part of the fun of being a Sephardic Spice Girl is taking on the challenge of new/old recipes. Sharon never thought that she’d make Kubbah. But we tackled the recipe together and we got it right. It’s not the easiest job to make the semolina dough shell and then stuff it with the meat filling. It’s tricky to get it perfect—make the shell too thick and it’s like a cannonball, too thin and it will break apart. But when you get it right, it’s truly creamy, meaty, delicious magic.

—Rachel

Semolina Kubbah

For the dough

2 cups semolina or farina

1/4 lb ground beef

1 cup warm water

1 tsp kosher salt

1/2 tsp pepper

3/4 lb ground beef

1/2 cup finely chopped Italian parsley

1 small onion, grated

2 tsp baharat spice

1 tsp kosher salt

1/2 tsp pepper

In a large bowl, combine the semolina, ground beef, water, salt and pepper until a smooth soft dough is formed.

Cool in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes.

In a large bowl, combine the ground beef, Italian parsley, grated onion, baharat, salt and pepper.

Wet palms with water and roll the dough mixture into walnut-sized balls and place on a tray lined with parchment or wax paper.

Flatten each dough ball into your palm and place a large teaspoon of the filling in the center.

Gently stretch the sides of the dough to cover the filling and delicately pinch closed and roll into a ball.

Place the stuffed kubbah balls on a tray, loosely cover and leave in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours.

Gently drop the balls into a pot of boiling soup and cook for about 25 minutes.

Note:
Raw kubbah can be frozen for up to 2 months.

Hamusta Stew

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 large onions, finely chopped

1 lb beef neck bones

8 cloves garlic, minced

6 celery stalks, finely chopped

4 Mexican squash or zucchini,  diced

2 tsp paprika

2 tsp turmeric

2 tsp garlic powder

1 28oz can crushed tomatoes

1 Tbsp sugar

2 large lemons, juiced

2 tsp salt

1 tsp ground black pepper

8 cups water

In a large pot, warm oil over medium heat, then add onions and sauté until translucent. Add the neck bones and sauté until browned, about 5 minutes.

Add the garlic, celery, squash, paprika, turmeric and garlic powder, then simmer about 10 minutes, until vegetables soften.

Add the crushed tomatoes, sugar, lemon juice, salt and pepper and water. Stir well, cover, lower heat and allow to simmer for 15 to 20 minutes.

Gently place the Kubbah balls into the stew, making sure that the liquid covers the Kubbah completely.

Cover pot and cook for 25 to 30 minutes.

Serve hot over white rice.

Note: Leftover Kubbah Hamusta can be stored in a tightly sealed container in the refrigerator for 5-6 days.

Sharon Gomperts and Rachel Emquies Sheff have been friends since high school. The Sephardic Spice Girls project has grown from their collaboration on events for the Sephardic Educational Center in Jerusalem. Follow them
on Instagram @sephardicspicegirls and on Facebook at Sephardic Spice SEC Food. Website sephardicspicegirls.com/full-recipes.