Walnut sujuk: the autumn sweet of Aleppo

Walnut sujuk is the second product of the grape harvest. Walnuts are threaded onto a string with a needle, grape must is boiled down until it thickens, and the string is dipped into the hot mixture over and over. Each dip leaves a layer, a thick rod builds up along the string, and the rod then hangs in an airy place for days and sometimes weeks until it dries. In Syria it is called jaq malban, and also aqoudeh.

How it is made

The must is boiled and thickened with flour or starch to the consistency of a pudding. The hot mixture goes into a shallow vessel and the strung walnuts are lowered in and lifted out; the coat is left to cool so that it sets, then dipped again. As many repeats as you want layers. When the drying is finished what is left is a rod, matt and slightly tacky outside, packed with walnut inside. It is rolled in starch so it does not stick.

Why it is the harvest’s second product

Because it is the same cauldron. The boiling of dibs described in the grape molasses record on this site happens in the same week and over the same fire: part of the must goes into jars as molasses, part is thickened further and becomes sujuk. The difference is portability. Molasses is a syrup, taken with a spoon at the table; walnut sujuk is solid, and travels in a pocket. Qamar al-din is a sheet made from apricot; this is a rod made from grape and walnut.

What it means in Aleppo

In Aleppo walnut sujuk is a gift. In the Armenian tradition malban is sent to a visitor arriving in the city and to relatives far from it, a custom carried from Cilicia that is still kept. The version imported from Antep is sold under the same name, so a counter can hold both local and imported. Its history runs older than Aleppo’s claim on it: Ibn Battuta describes malban made in Damascus in the 14th century — thickened grape syrup with ground almond and pistachio. The food historian Nawal Nasrallah writes that it was already being made in the sausage shape it has now.

Where to buy it

At dried-fruit and spice counters. In autumn you find it fresh: still soft outside, and the walnut glossy where you cut it. Towards winter it dries and hardens, becomes harder to slice, and tastes more concentrated. They are the same thing; it is a question of which texture you prefer. It keeps for months unwrapped, which makes it a practical gift for someone about to travel.