It's history is lost to time. That happens sometimes when a recipe has been around for so long, that people forget where it came from. Take, for instance, salmorigio (which comes from the Sicilian word, salmurigghiu, a lemony sauce made with parsley, oregano, and olive oil that has been used as a marinade or served alongside dishes for centuries in kitchens and restaurants across Calabria and Sicily. (Although one could indirectly date the sauce back to at least the 9th century C.E., when Arabs brought lemon trees to Sicily during their colonization of the island.)
When I first came across a recipe for salmorigio, my mind immediately associated it with the chimichurri sauces of Argentina. Fresh green herbs, combined with garlic, and then blitzed or mixed with olive oil and, in the case of salmoriglio, a little bit of water.
As I would come to learn, salmorigio is separate and distinct from chimichurri sauce. For one thing, the prominent taste element in salmorigio is lemon, which is infused two-ways into the sauce: first, through the addition of lemon juice; and, second, through the use of lemon zest. The result is a sauce that features the citrus first and foremost, unlike a chimichurri, in which much more garlic is used to create sauce. The difference is notable: salmoriglio is a thinner, smoother sauce that has a lighter, fresher flavor.
That texture and flavor may explain why Calabrians and Sicilians use salmoriglio as a sauce, dressing or marinade with chicken and seafood. I, on the other hand, decided to use it with beef. I came across a recipe for Carne Arustuta, which is a Sicilian grilled steak recipe. The recipe calls for marinading the beef with, among other things, lemon juice and lemon zest. I thought that those ingredients, which are shared by both salmoriglio and carne arustuta, could be what ties the two recipes together. And, it did. In this sense, the salmoriglio worked like a chimichurri, perfectly complementing the grilled meat.
1 cup packed fresh oregano leaves (or bee balm leaves)
1 large clove garlic
1/2 cup light olive oil
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Zest from one large lemon
Kosher salt and pepper
Directions:
1. Prepare the oil and herbs. Mix the two oils together. Bring a quart of salted water to a boil. Add the parsley and cook for 5 seconds. Remove the parsley and refresh in cold water. Squeeze the parsley dry and reserve.
2. Prepare the sauce. Add the garlic, lemon juice, water, oregano, and parsley to a blender. Begin pureeing the mixture, drizzling the oils until the sauce is smooth and emulsified. Double check the seasoning for salt and pepper and then transfer the finished sauce to a container. Stir in the lemon zest and refrigerate.
"Don't worry about Yemen. Yemen started in peace, and it will end its revolution in peace, and it will start its new civil state in peace."
-- Tawakkol Karmon, Nobel Peace Laureate (2011)
The journalist, politician and human rights activist -- Tawakkol Karmon -- spoke those words fifteen years ago when she accepted the Nobel Peace Prize. She accepted the award in the midst of the Arab Spring, when masses rose up against dictatorial regimes across North Africa and the Middle East. One of those revolutions took place in Yemen. That revolution brought down then-President Ali Abullah Saleh, a military officer who served in that role since 1990.
Yet, over the course of the following fifteen years, peace has proved elusive in Yemen. The country has become a battleground between different forces, political and religious, internal and external. Those battles have inflicted severe harm upon the over 40.6 million residents spread out from the Red Sea across the southern Arabian peninsula to the borders of neighboring Oman. Yet, at least in the West, much of that harm goes untold, as the media focuses more upon the offensives of the political and religious actors. We hear more about missiles being fired from Yemen or ships being seized in the Red Sea than we hear about the millions of Yemenis who face starvation or the lack of essential infrastructure for much of the population. The result is a damning story that talks more about violence and less about the people.
"The People are Not the Same as Their Government."
One really has to dig deep to get past the narrative that has been built by the media over the years to learn more about the Yemeni people. I have never been to Yemen, although I have always read with fascination and viewed with wonder about the country, its residents and their achievements. For example, there is amazing mud brick architecture, such as the 16th century walled city of Shibham. The city has densely packed, mudbrick buildings that are several stories tall, which has led to the city being often referred to as the "Manhattan of the desert." And there is the Seiyun Palace in the eastern region of Hadramut, which stands as the largest mud brick structure in the world.
Another great resource (surprisingly enough) is YouTube, where one could watch videos posted by people who have been brave enough to travel to war-torn and troubled places. Many of those travelers go out of their way to learn about the people themselves. And, as traveler and storyteller Drew Binsky has noted, the Yemeni people are not the same as their government. His video can be watched here:
I strongly recommend Drew's videos generally, because of his efforts to talk with the people of a country to learn more about their culture and cuisine. In his video about Yemen, Drew is honest about the difficulties Yemenis face, but he is equally honest about the Yemeni themselves. As Drew says in his video, "the people are not the same as their government." Yemeni's hospitality is warm, curious and genuine. Yemenis are quick to welcome people in, share food, and talk about themselves, their cuisine and their culture.
Yemeni cuisine differs from the cuisine of Arabic cultures. The differences arise in part from Yemen's relative isolation from the broader Arabic world. The country lies at the southwestern end of the Arabic Peninsula. The Rub al Khali -- the "Empty Quarter" -- limits land routes to Yemen, leaving only those that trace along the coastline of the peninsula. Yet, Yemen has nearly 2,000 miles of coastline, as well we major ports like Aden, Hodeidah, Mukallah and Nishtun. Yemen's ports played an important role in the maritime history of the spice trade, welcoming foods and ingredients from Persia, India and as far away as Indonesia.
Over time, these foods and ingredients, along with culinary practices, became interwoven with the indigenous ways of cooking. They helped to create a cuisine that sets itself apart from other Arabic cuisines. There is a diversity that, for example, blends Persian cooking methods and indigenous cooking ingredients, Turkish ingredients with local fish, and much more. It is a cuisine that focuses on slow cooking methods, with many herbs and spices (cardamom, caraway, cumin, fenugreek, saffron, and turmeric, just to name a few), and, of course, chiles. The dishes are often served communally, shared among family and friends. Once again, a practice reflective of Yemeni culture and hospitality.
The rich culinary history cannot be viewed in isolation from the present situation in Yemen. The toll of decades of war, both fueled internally and externally (by Saudi Arabia and the UAE), have created a situation where mass starvation has the people in its grips. In the good times, Yemen imported a substantial amount of its food (sometimes up to 90% of it); war makes such imports problematic. It also makes the delivery of food aid and other humanitarian aid very difficult. As a result, mass starvation threatens large numbers of Yemenis. The United Nations estimated that, as of June 2025, nearly 5 million Yemenis faced food insecurity, with nearly 1.5 million of those Yemenis facing emergency food security. To put it in context, that would be the same as the entire population of Dallas, Texas or San Diego, California facing emergency food insecurity. And those are just the numbers from the southern regions of Yemen.
There are numerous reasons for food insecurity in Yemen. That discussion is best left to another post or perhaps another blog. (There is a lot of reporting about food insecurity in Yemen out there). The point here is that such insecurity is projected only going to get worse, as the violence -- but not humanitarian assistance -- continues. The U.S. Agency for International Development provided substantial assistance (as much as $1 billion in Fiscal Years 2019 and 2020) that helped to provide food, medical care, safe drinking water and more to Yemenis. With the Trump administration's closure of USAID, the ripple effects are felt across Yemen, such as, by way of example, the closure of malnutrition support services for Yemeni children, as well as pregnant and breastfeeding mothers.
MAIN COURSE
Given this rich culinary history, and the ongoing food insecurity issues, this particular occasion is a challenge for me in more ways than one. On the one hand, there are a wide array of main dishes that could be the subject of this challenge. For example, there is mandi, which is considered Yemen's national dish. It consists of lamb or chicken, marinated in spices, and cooked in a tandoor. There is also maraq, which is a soup made with lamb, that often serves as a first dish but can be used to make salta, a stew that is also considered a national dish. On the other hand, there is the knowledge that millions of Yemenis are struggling to find that "one bite."
Lamb shanks before the marinade.
In the end, I decided to make Lamb Haneeth. It is a dish that originated in the Hadhraaut region, which is the area that Drew Binsky traveled when he was in Yemen. However, Lamb Haneeth is more than just a regional dish; it has deep roots in Yemeni culture and cuisine. Indeed, this dish has been described as "an expression of familial bonds, cultural continuity and the preservation of a culinary legacy that transcends time and borders." The word haneeth hints at that legacy, as it refers to slow-cooked meat, which is a cornerstone of Yemeni cuisine.
The dish is also served in a manner that is truly reflective of Yemeni culture. Lamb Haneeth is served "family style" or "communal style," on a large platter with rice to be shared by guests and family members. Such a dish makes the perfect challenge for me to prepare.
4 lamb shanks or lamb pieces with bone (about 1.5 pounds)
Directions:
1. Prepare the marinade. Combine all the ingredients from the green onions through to the butter (everything but the dried lemon and the lamb) in a food processor or blender and process until well blended and has turned into a thick paste consistency. If you need to, add a splash of water if the sauce is so thick that it won't combine well.
2. Marinate the lamb. Pour the green sauce over the lamb and toss to coat thoroughly, then cover tightly by placing a sheet of parchment paper on top of the lamb, then sealing with foil and marinade for as much time as you have, anywhere from four hours to overnight.
3. Roast the lamb. Preheat the oven to 465 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the shanks from the wrapper Place the shanks, covered with foil, on a foil covered pan in the oven for 1 hour. After 1 hour, reduce the temperature to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and cook for another 2 hours. Halfway through, toss the lamb, flipping the pieces over. When 30 minutes of cooking time remain, uncover the dish so the outside of the lamb crisps up a little.
4. Finish the dish. Serve with rice, preferably topped with toasted nuts and garnished with chopped cilantro.
CONDIMENT
Shatta is a spicy hot sauce that often accompanies dishes in Yemen. It is not unique to Yemen, and, its culinary history can actually be traced to the Palestinian cuisine. The popularity of the hot sauce enabled it to transcend Palestine to reach tables in Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and, of course, Yemen.
This condiment is typically prepared with long red chiles or jalapeno chiles. I did not have access to red chiles, so I went with jalapenos. The end result is not a fiery red hot sauce, but a deceptively hot green sauce (as I left as many of the seeds in as possible.)
1. Prepare the pepper mixture. Slice the chiles into coin-wide rounds. Combine the sliced chiles with the salt and stir well. Transfer the salted chiles to the jar and pop the lid on. Place the jar in a cool, shady place for 3 days or transfer to the fridge for up to 7 days.
2. Finish the hot sauce. Drain the chiles through a colander or sieve and transfer them to a food process or mortar and pestle. Add the vinegar and lemon juice and process - or pound in the pestle - until you are happy with the texture. Transfer the chile paste back to its jar and pour in enough olive oil to cover it. Store in the fridge for up to six months.
* * *
In the end, the Lamb Haneeth was delicious and, when served with the shatta, it seemed to be truly reflective of Yemeni culture and cuisine. A land where it is hot (over half of Yemen is desert), but, like the people, warm and welcoming to those who are brave enough to make the trip there. This challenge was important to me, because it is important to highlight what does not get disseminated by the global media, and to put the focus where it belongs ... the Yemeni people.
