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One of the things I like most is finding new recipes or revising old recipes. When we host or are being hosted, these are the times when the joy of creation rests upon me and I turn the guests into guinea pigs for dishes I have never made before. One of the times last year that that we were invited to friends, I asked what we should bring, the answer was a salad. “What do you think about black lentil yam salad?” I asked my better half. “Yam?” she looked at me playfully, “isn’t that one of the vegetables that you don’t eat?”
“What is it?” my younger son asked me, looking at the plate I placed in front of him. “Lefet” I answered. “Lefet?” he repeated after me with a puzzled look. “Turnip” I said, “Turnip in Hebrew is Lefet”. Even though he speaks Hebrew fluently and when needed he can read and write too, there are still words that I have to translate for him.
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Tanzia
Tanzia we ate at grandma’s, my father’s mother, the one my sister is named after. In our family, there are three Shimons, two Hannas and two Shulas, so whenever one mentioned the name Shimon it was always accompanied with uncle Moshe’s Shimon or Aunt Simmi’s Shimon. For some of my cousins, I am still Uncle Shalom’s Shimon today.
Usually, I try to avoid eating carbs. This is not an easy task, because I really love pastries. Bourekas, pizza, empanadas, eggrolls, dumplings, cakes, cookies…I like almost anything wrapped with, baked or fried dough. The biting aroma of baked goods that fills the house makes my taste buds tingle and throws me back to my childhood Fridays and to my mom’s homemade bourekas, cakes and cookies that we used to eat while they were still warm.
There are those days that Murphy comes to visit you. Those days where anything that can go wrong, goes wrong. It’s not about major crises, it’s just that everything you planned goes the wrong way. It was supposed to be a state of the art planned and productive day. And then, FedEx delivers the wrong package…