Posts in Tag

Lebanon

I learned this on the balcony in Kayfoun. My grandmother sat facing the sun. My aunt came to find me. “Tayta is coring the zucchini. You can learn from her,” she said. Heritage is as much nostalgia as tradition. I sat at one corner of Tayta’s small table and she pointed at the ingredients, naming them one at a time. “Riz, benadoura, cousa, wara’ ‘anab, milleh . . .” We never could communicate in sentences, but we both spoke food in any language. I used to regret that I was unable

It took me a long time to get this one right. I had it several times in Lebanon, but could never recreate the tangy taste without sumac, but it is good without the sumac if that’s an ingredient you can’t find. 1 lb fresh spinach 1/4 cup chopped onion 1 tsp minced garlic 1/2 tsp cumin pinch salt 1 tbsp olive oil 1-2 tbsp lemon juice, depending on your tastes 1/2 tsp sumac salt and freshly ground pepper to taste Heat olive oil in sautee pan. Add onions, garlic, and

If there is a salad I miss, this is the one. Yes, I could make it without the bread, but what’s the point? That crouton-like crunch, the way the bread soaks up the dressing, the beautiful mix of texture and flavor in your mouth . . . Well, I don’t know that I can do this salad justice. It only take a few minutes to throw together. This is the type of dish you can throw grilled chicken on top of and feel like you’ve had a gourmet meal. Another

My aunt made this for me when I was visiting Lebanon in 2003. It was hot hot hot, even up on the mountain. I think she could see how much I wanted something more than the Tang-like powdered mango drink they kept feeding us. She got a whole bunch of oranges, lemons and a knife and set to work. Ingredients: 5 lb bag oranges 3 lb bag lemons 2 cups sugar Wash and cut up lemons and oranges into small pieces–rinds on. Put them in a huge bowl with the

There is something I want you to know. It is about the way I live my life since your embrace. It is the way you live in my life even after you pass, and until we meet again. In the Spring, I sit with my windows open so I can feel a connection to the world. It’s not like Kayfoun here. There is no direct connection to the land. No one lives in a flat above me. No laundry hangs outside. But I’ve come up with a way to counteract

I was solicited by wherever mag to write a piece for their web publication addressing my experience with place and Lebanon. I agreed. This piece is for everyone who knows how difficult it is to exist in the between spaces, and for those who have yet to find out. You will find an excerpt of and link to my published piece, Wishing for Home in Lebanon, below. “This visit to Lebanon was my second. The summer before, I had travelled with my parents. My father, returned to his native country,

My father, throughout my life, has clung to small food rituals. Here is how you spread the labneh on the pocket bread. Here is how you open the pocket bread. Now the olives. Now the tomatoes. Now the salt and pepper. Here, now. Here. This is how you drizzle the oil. Then we roll it. Then we eat it and, ahhh. Call me Baba, he would tell me when I called him Dad. It was not a food ritual, but he asked more than once. It feels weird, I would tell

Shorba Hamra bi Lahmi Serves: 6 Preparation time: 15 min Cooking time: 20 min My dad loves this soup, as do I. There’s something very beautiful about a simple tomato-based soup. I am shocked I do not have an image of this dish. I make it frequently enough that I should have one handy, but as the weather is fine for this particular culinary delight, I will share now and return with an image the next time I prepare it. I learned this recipe from my Aunt Ghada. She used a

Latest Stories

This Post Empowers Women (and How You Can Help)

I Can’t Wait to Write with YOU!

Not All Men

The Emotional Labor and Delivery of Boundaries

Heavy Things

How I Started Writing

Search stories by typing keyword and hit enter to begin searching.