Lynn Strong

Cozy fantasy and beyond

Category: Chai and Charmcraft

  • Back in 2023, I hadn’t had nearly as many resources for my first rahat al-hulqum post as I do in 2026. So here’s the updated version of that post, with a lot more history!


    Rahat al-Hulqum and Faludhaj

    The story that Nathaniel Webb bought for Wyngraf  was an 8,000 word version of the prologue of Chai and Charmcraft, which I’d titled “Rahat al-Hulqum” because of Ashar’s nickname for Faraj and the rose-flavored sweets that inspired the nickname. The confection behind that name is still available today, sometimes in rose flavors, other times in apricot or pistachio or more; you most likely have heard it called Turkish Delight. (Some people love it, others are disappointed after CS Lewis’ build-up in The Chronicles of Narnia. I ended up in the loving-it camp, obviously.)

    The confection called Turkish Delight and other names like lokum (Turkish) and rahat (Romanian) is often traced to a shopkeeper in the Ottoman Empire — but for centuries before that shopkeeper’s variation, people have laid claim to it under other names and areas, including the Safavid Empire in Iran and tenth century Egypt. I was enchanted to discover Salma Serry’s gastronomy blog post about her grandmother’s lemon faludhaj, which she connects to the 10th century versions via our queen of medieval Arabic food history, Nawal Nasrallah. Serry’s grandmother served her lemon faludhaj for sore throats when she was a child – just as the 10th century cookbook noted that faludhaj was good for the throat, and the name rahat al-hulqum meant “comforts the throat.”

    The historic version

    In the glossary of Annals of the Caliph’s Kitchens, around pages 596-7, Nasrallah gives the connections between faludhaj and lokum that Serry mentioned, and there’s an entire chapter of faludhaj variations (chapter 93). Since corn hadn’t arrived in Europe in the 10th century, the recipes here use wheat or rice starch instead, along with saffron, camphor, rose water, and other flavorings and colorings.

    This is the recipe she cites as particularly similar to lokum / Turkish Delight:

     A recipe for chewy faludhaj, fit for royalty (mulukiyya): Put 3 ratls (3 pounds) honey in a clean tanjir (copper cauldron with a rounded bottom) and light the fire under it. [When it comes to a boil,] skim its froth and pour on it ½ ratl (1 cup) olive oil, shayraj (sesame oil), or fresh clarified butter (samn). Let it cook on a low-heat fire until it comes to several good full boils. 

    Finely pound 1/3 ratl (5 ounces) sweet starch in a mortar and taste it lest it should be sour. Add water, rose water, and crushed camphor or musk, and knead them together. Do not let it be too thin in consistency. In fact, it will be better if it is rather thick. Add ½ dirham (1½ grams) saffron to it and stir it into the pot. 

    Keep stirring the pot from the moment you put it on the fire until you take it away from it. Do not neglect this for the secret of good faludhaj is good quality honey and starch, and constant stirring (darb). When the pudding starts to thicken, gradually feed it with more and more fat, beating all the time until fat starts to separate from the pudding and comes up. Now, start removing the fat as it comes up while you beat the pudding. Do this until faludhaj develops the desired color and thickness. Remove all the remaining separated fat and put the pot away from the fire. Ladle (and spread) the pudding on a platter, God willing. If you want to make it extremely chewy in consistency (mu’allaka shadidan jiddan), use more honey and less starch, thicken the pudding as mentioned above, and let it cook much longer. It will come out very chewy, God willing.” (Nasrallah, Annals of the Caliphs’ Kitchens, pp 383-4)

    (For comparison, the recipe after it lists “1 uskurruja (½ cup)” of starch per pound of honey, which works out to 1 ½ cups starch for 3 lb (or 1 quart) honey, if you have an easier time finding volume measures than weight measures.)

    A modern rendition and alterations

    Most modern lokum and Turkish delight recipes involve cornstarch, so I haven’t been able to try cooking them myself. But Nico’s recipe at the Yumsome blog looks delightful for those who can have cornstarch! 

    Kate Valent is an absolutely delightful author and human who’s as enthusiastic about recipes as I am, and she took this pomegranate Turkish Delight recipe and made her own coconut variation on it (along with adorable flying carpet ceramics from the Daevabad LitJoy box!)

    Low spoons: In addition to the many vendors’ versions of rose-flavored Turkish Delight that can be bought online, Aplets and Cotlets are made using pectin from fruit, some of which are vegan, and they ship. The founders were particularly looking to replicate “rahat locum” from Armenia, and you can see the language connection there!

    Vegan: I’ve made several flavors of Japanese kanten from agar seaweed; there are many variations online, often with fruit and fruit juices rather than nuts and rosewater. But agar will absolutely give you something solid enough for easy cubes that are finger-food compatible. Just One Cookbook has a vegan recipe including options for all three forms you may find kanten / agar in, and several flavor options.

    Kathleen’s cornstarch-free Turkish paste: My friend Kathleen knows that cornstarch is a no-go zone for me, which means most salesfolks’ rahat al-hulqum variations are off my menu now — as is most anything rolled in powdered sugar, which regularly includes cornstarch for anti caking. So for the holidays last year, she made me some specially cornstarch-free variations on her family’s gelatin-based Turkish paste recipe, including mulled wine, mint, and (in this case) coconut milk. She kindly gave me permission to share her recipe with you:

    Turkish Paste, coconut variant 

    (Kathleen Fuller, from a recipe by Martha Manderson) 

    The technique here is a bit different because the coconut milk needs to be heated gently to avoid splitting. I use canned coconut milk, which I believe has a higher fat content than the carton variety. Shake the can well before starting and be prepared to do some further stirring to integrate the cream layer. 

    • Soak for 10 minutes: 
      • 3 Tbsp (4 envelopes) granulated gelatin 
      • 1/2 cup coconut milk 
    • Warm to barely simmering, stirring constantly: 
      • 2 cups sugar 
      • 1/2 cup coconut milk 
    • Add together, continuing to stir until thoroughly integrated. Remove from heat. 
    • Add: 
      • 1/3 cup coconut milk 
      • 1/2 tsp coconut extract 
      • 1/2 tsp vanilla extract 
    • Pour into 8” x 8” pan. (Rinse pan in cold water first.) Cool and remove from pan. Cut in squares and roll in confectioner’s sugar. If the paste is stored in humid conditions it will get sticky; just roll it in sugar again. This should be stored in the refrigerator.
  • The day I’m posting this (March 14, 2026) is the latest Queer Your Bookshelf day! For one day only, hundreds of queer books will be available for 99 cents (or as inexpensively as the vendors allow in other currencies). Have a browse, click some links, queer your bookshelf, wins all around.

    Also, here’s the first of my recipe batch from Chai and Charmcraft — Shai Rahim is one of the mendicant priests of Upaja who comes to Tel-Bastet for the Greater Convocation, and he sends Faraj a basket of treats and poetry as a gesture of courteous goodwill. (Photo credit to Olgucz at Openverse. Don’t worry if your wraps look different than these, though– these aren’t officially bazmaward, just the closest photo I could find in Creative Commons-land!)

    The Earl of Sandwich really wasn’t the first one off the post here, for all that he’s got the press in English. Bazmaward would be right at home on any banquet table with the decoratively arranged canapes: You make a roll with soft flatbread (lavash or tortillas are quite reasonable cousins), an assortment of barida (think cold deli food), some herbs and spices and hard-cooked eggs, and then you roll them up and slice them into rings. It’s documented that bazmaward was often served at the start of a banquet because they can be made ahead of time, for logistical reasons that are likely similar to the trays of canapes now. 

    From the recreation images I’ve seen involving sliced hard-boiled eggs, they tend to make the wrapping look chunky, and we also know that the medieval Egyptians were very fond of omelet-type things. So I’m sneaking in the “cook a thin omelet and use that in place of hard-boiled eggs” option in my version because the whole object will roll more smoothly for you.

    The historic version

    From al-Warraq’s 10th century Kitab al-Tabikh, translated by Nawal Nasrallah and described in her blog post recreating it:

    Use cold [cooked] meat of two legs and shoulders of a kid or lamb. Finely shred the meat into thread-like pieces. Choose whatever you like of leaf vegetables, excluding watercress (jirjīr) and endives (hindibāʾ). Finely chop them until they resemble sesame seeds and mix [part of] them with the shredded meat. Set the mixture aside.

    Now choose good quality sharp cheese, scrape it with a knife, and collect the scraped cheese. Coarsely grind walnuts and add them [with the cheese] to the [set-aside meatless] chopped vegetables. Also add some chopped herbs and rue. A portion of the chopped vegetables should have been set aside unmixed with the meat. Next, peel and chop some olives and add them to the [meatless] chopped vegetable mixture.

    Spread a soft and large ruqāqa [similar to lavash/markook bread], cover it with some of the meatless vegetable mixture and sprinkle it with seasoned salt. Next, spread the meat and vegetable mixture [to which you should have added] some spices. Then arrange a layer of eggs sliced lengthwise. Next, spread another layer of the meat and vegetable mixture followed by a layer of the meatless vegetable mixture. Sprinkle them with fine-tasting salt and drizzle them with sweet vinegar and rose water.

    Tightly roll the bread with the filling and slice it crosswise into discs. Arrange the [pinwheels] on a platter and pass them around, God willing.” (Nasrallah, Annals of the Caliphs’ Kitchens, chapter 23)

    Daniel Newman has a tasty-looking rendition using chicken rather than lamb on his blog as well. He also mentions substituting lemon for some of the historical predecessors.

    The modern rendition

    In her blog post, Nasrallah declines to give exact quantities because the amount needed will depend on how many you want to make. She’s got a really good point, but I’m going to give some suggested ranges to work with, and some low-cooking-needed options that may get an assist from your local market.

    • 2-4 large fajita-sized tortillas, or more small ones, or lavash
    • About 1 lb shredded cooked protein: Your choice among pot roast, pulled chicken, minced (and cooked) lamb, canned salmon, or your preferred meat substitute – fried tofu or quorn may work well here
    • About 1 ½ cups finely minced greens (spinach, kale, arugula)
    • 2-4 Tbsp minced walnuts (or pecans / almonds / pumpkin seeds if nut-sensitive)
    • 2-4 Tbsp minced fresh herbs (your choice among basil, parsley, tarragon, fennel fronds, mint, celery leaves) – if you don’t have fresh, or need easy mode, a splash of vinaigrette or Italian dressing could substitute for both the herbs and the later vinegar dressing. (I wouldn’t recommend 4 Tbsp entirely of mint, it’s pungent…)
    • 2-4 Tbsp minced olives
    • 2-3 eggs, either hard boiled and minced fine enough to sprinkle or cooked into a thin omelet or two and sliced into strips
    • As much (or little) cheese as you like – from the scraping description I would suggest a hard cheese like Parmesan, but the historical Mad Alchemist’s boiling acid qanbaris cheese might work too
    • Dressing: “Sweet vinegar” suggests sushi-seasoned sweet rice vinegar to me, with a few drops of rose water in a couple tablespoons and sprinkled as necessary. (To make your own, heat 3 Tbsp rice vinegar with 1 Tbsp sugar until the sugar dissolves, then cool, then add about 1/4 tsp rosewater.)
    • Salt for sprinkling, possibly sea salt if you have it

    To prepare in advance and refrigerate until ready:

    1. Either hard-boil and mince your eggs, or make thin omelets and slice into strips.
    2. Cook and shred your meat or meat substitute (or get your deli container).
    3. Mince your olives, removing any seeds along the way.
    4. Harvest or buy your greens and/or herbs.
    5. Prepare or buy your sweet-tart dressing, and add rosewater to your personal taste.

    When ready to roll:

    1. Finely chop your greens and/or herbs.
    2. In a large flat pan (or 10 seconds in a microwave), warm your tortilla or lavash until it’s soft and flexible and roll-friendly.
    3. Mix about half your chopped vegetables with your meat.
    4. Mix the other half of your chopped vegetables with your olives, optional nuts, and any fresh herbs. 
    5. Spread a layer of your chopped vegetables on your tortilla pizza-style (flat and spread to near the edges, not a burrito-style mound in the middle).
    6. Add a layer of your meat (or meat substitute) and vegetable mixture all over.
    7. Add either flat strips or minced sprinklings of your eggs all over.
    8. Scrape cheese (if desired) all over.
    9. Add your next layer of chopped meat (or meat substitute) and veg mixture.
    10.  Add the last layer of vegetables on top.
    11.  Lightly sprinkle your rosewater-scented dressing and a pinch of salt over the surface. (You don’t want so much that the bread gets soggy.)
    12.  Roll tightly from one edge to the other while your bread is still warm and flexible.
    13. If desired, wrap snugly in cling-wrap or tinfoil to help it hold its tight shape while you prepare additional rolls.
    14. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
    15. Slice into pinwheels and arrange on a decorative platter for serving.

    Alterations for food sensitivities or low spoons

    This really is as choose-your-own-adventure as you like!

    • Gluten sensitive? Choose a no-flour tortilla or substitute soft lettuce leaves or steamed cabbage for rolling
    • No vinegar? Squeeze a lime wedge into a couple tablespoons water and olive oil, shake or whisk, apply rose water or orange blossom water if desired
    • Prefer non-floral flavors? You could use orange, lemon, lime, or fresh ginger juice
    • Low spoons? Get some ready-made pinwheel rollups from your local market and lightly sprinkle with your choice of flavors (dressing, olives, nuts, herbs) before noshing

  • (Part of the recipe collection from Haroun and the Study of Mischief. But also, it seemed like a pink and rose-petaled recipe was quite suited to start off February! And I’ve just opened preorders for Chai and Charmcraft this week; I’ll keep adding links to the page as more distributors come online. I seem to have an accidental Thing about preorders and pickles, remembering the pre-release post for Haroun too…)

    The distinction I make between quick pickles and slow pickles is whether you plan to sterilize things for long term use or whether you’ll eat them within a few days. You’ll also find that distinction noted in the medieval cookbooks – some of them note that they’re meant to be eaten after two or three days, and others say they’ll be good for a year (assuming appropriate cleanliness and saltiness in the making, of course).

    For all that turnips have an unfortunate reputation for being bland and unpleasant, that made them a marvelous candidate for medieval pickling. In the table of contents of Nawal Nasrallah’s translation of Kanz al-Fawaid / Treasure Trove of Benefits and Variety at the Table, there’s over twenty recipes for pickling turnips alone. The Sultan’s Feast by Ibn Mubarak Shah, translated by Daniel Newman, offers many pickling recipes as well. (It’s a condensed version of Kanz al-Fawaid, but it’s available in an ebook, which means it’s more accessible to me; I’ve worked back and forth between the two.)

    Among just the turnip pickles alone, you get salted brines, vinegared brines with and without sugar, saffron for dyeing the pickles yellow, and yeasted brines. Like an upscale market’s olive bar, the cooks also took already-cured olives and applied new flavors to them: walnuts, hazelnuts, coriander seeds, salt preserved lemons, and olive oil, smoked olives, and so forth.

    Some of the recipes include instructions for scenting or smoking the jar they’re to be preserved in. And rose petal pickles are particularly fragrant.

    Sweet and Sour Rose Petals with a Low Spoons variant

    Recipe 609 in Nasrallah’s Treasure Trove either has three sub-variants under the same number, or this one might have been meant to be 611 but it just wasn’t numbered? I can’t tell for certain because of the clipping in the Google Scholar preview. I’m clearly going to have to try this with my damask roses this summer. And I was delighted that this historic recipe also contained a Low Spoons variation built into it!

    “Another recipe [for sweet and sour rose petals]:

    Take [the petals of] white roses of Nusaybin, put them in honey, and leave them in the sun until they wilt. Fold wine vinegar and a bit of mint into them, and put them [in a jar], and use [as needed].

    Those who do not have fresh roses can take ready-made rose-petal honey jam and add vinegar to it. If it turns out to be too sour, sweeten it [with sugar or honey]. This will be as fine as the first one mentioned. It will look nice, and it is quite easy to make.” (Nasrallah’s Treasure Trove / Kanz translation, somewhere between recipe 609 and 611)

    My modern note: You can find gulkand or Yunnan rose petal honey jam online if you’d like.