I am often assumed to cook Russian dishes for my Turkish family or at least sneak in some Russian influences in our daily fare. The disappointing truth is I can’t remember cooking much Russian food here in Turkey apart from the potato fritters I prepared during the romantic stage of the relationships with my husband-to-be.
The fritters that manifested the Russian culinary ascetics were accepted and eaten for two reasons: 1) fried foods are universally lovable and 2) I was too new to the family to discourage my efforts even though Özgür’s mom did immediately suggest how I could ‘improve’ the Slavic classic, and I had neither the confidence nor the language ability to say that giving dish a Turkish touch does not equal improvement.
Why would I cook Russian? Because I crave for the flavors I grew up with. But when you adapt the flavor to the Turkish palate all the kekik and pulbiber cancels the very purpose of making the dish - it tastes like nothing I know and will not be satisfying for the eaters as, say, mercimek çorbası. After the potato fritters every single foreign dish I cooked had a Turkish flair because I found hearing suggestions for “improvement” after every meal is tiring and rather discouraging.
So I embraced Turkish cooking and eating with my whole stomach: besides Italian pizza in Moscow, Ukrainian dumplings in Lviv and Thai food in Thailand I have not eaten anything non-Turkish in the three years I am here. I had accepted the notion commonly shared by the locals that Turkish food is the greatest cuisine in the world so why to bother with anything else?
My recent visit to Russia was cathartic food wise. Meals like cottage cheese bake (zapekanka) prepared by my friend Yulia or pounded chicken with cheese and garlic by my mother reminded me of the food I grew up with and then parted ways with as I first left my home country 10 years ago. Why did I not take the food with me? Why did I never crave for it until recently? These are the questions I have no answers for. Now, after re-trying, after re-entering those foods of my childhood I feel a great urgency to include more of them at least in my own diet.
The other day we cooked together with a Lebanese-American family father of which was fascinated by the idea of fusion cooking. He paged through the two most inspiring cookbooks I own - Ottolenghi’s Jerusalem and Malouf’s Turquoise - and we talked about so many similar dishes found in both Lebanese and Turkish cuisines and about the great talent of the chefs who create the meals where the close yet different cuisines met. The highlight of our cooking class was the stuffed eggplant (Turkish classic) with firik for a tiny Middle Eastern touch. Fusion and stuffed eggplant stayed in my mind after the guests left.

I eyed another eggplant in the Ottolenghi’s Jerusalem a while ago: spiced eggplant and herbed couscous drizzled with thick yogurt seemed like a perfect meatless summer meal, and I decided to play with the idea. Stuffed eggplant is a common dish with hundreds of variations in Turkey and the neighboring countries. Ottolenghi suggests bathing if not drowning eggplant in the spiced olive oil and baking it, which results in the almost deep-fried effect that I always try to avoid. So I significantly cut the oil and still got moist, flavorful and a bit healthier eggplant.
I thought I could replace the couscous with millet - light yellow tiny round grain that we use in Russia a lot. Grains are a staple crop and indispensable part of the Russian diet. Everyone knows kasha, but we also use grains for the soups, as a pie stuffing, in festive sweet treats or even as a garnish. Millet may not be so glamorous as buckwheat, another Russian staple, but it is also a super-grain, creamy and nutty, that is very-very good for you. I had some millet I smuggled from Russia, and in my head I was already dancing at marriage of the Middle Eastern flavors and Russian grain.
I also updated the herbs in the original recipe to the dill and green onions for a more Slavic touch. But could not resist the temptation to strengthen that green with the kuşboku Antep pistachio, wildly intense in color and taste. Fusion of not, here is the recipe of a healthy vegetarian summer meal of the Turkish-Russian origin.

Spiced Roasted Eggplant with Millet
Choose medium thin eggplants for this dish (mine were about 15 cm/5 inch long and each weighed 150 g/5.3 oz): they bake through quickly and make for a good portion size.
Source: Adapted from Ottolenghi’s Jerusalem
Prep Time: 10 Min
Cook Time: 25 Min
Total Time: 35 Min
Serves: 2 as a main, 4 as a starter/side
Ingredients
For the spiced eggplants:
- 2 medium eggplants
- 1 tsp cumin
- 1 tsp ground coriander seeds
- 1 tsp hot red pepper flakes
- 1 tsp sweet red pepper flakes
- 1/2 tsp coarse sea salt
- 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
- 2 tbsp lemon juice
For the millet topping:
- 1/4 cup millet thoroughly washed
- 3/4 cup water
- 1/2 tsp fine sea salt
- 5 g dill finely chopped
- 2 green onion springs finely chopped
- 15 g pistachio toasted and coarsely chopped
- 1/2 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
- 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
- 1/2 cup Greek yogurt whisked, for serving
Directions
- Prepare the eggplants: Trim off the green parts of the eggplants, halve each eggplant lengthwise and make crisscrossing deep cuts on each half, but be careful not to cut through the skin. Soak the eggplants in plenty of ice-cold salted water for 30-minutes if you are worried about bitterness (I have never bought a bitter eggplant in Turkey).
- Cook the eggplants: Preheat the oven to 200C/390F. Whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, cumin, coriander, two types of pepper flakes and salt. Place the eggplant halves cuts on a baking tray facing up and scoop the sauce onto the halves distributing equally among the eggplants. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the eggplants are nice and soft.
- Cook the millet: Meanwhile combine the miller, water and salt in a small pot with a fitting lid. Cover and bring to boil on the high heat, then reduce the heat to low and simmer covered until the moisture evaporates and the millet is soft (about 15 min). Switch off the heat and let sit covered for 10 more minutes. Then stir in the olive oil, lemon juice, green onion springs, dill, pistachio and salt.
- Assemble the dish: Once the eggplants are cooked top them with the millet mix and drizzle with Greek yogurt. Serve immediately.



