Do you know those cookies that have already been eaten before they could even make it from the oven to the cooling net? Those that if one is not in the area when they are ready, there is a slim chance of getting any? At our home these were the Ma’amoul.
The first time I tasted quiche was in the first apartment I ever rented in Tel Aviv. We were 3 roommates in our early 20’s. To this day, I can’t explain why we chose a 30 something woman that just came back after living quite some time in Canada to take the place of the roommate that left. Back then, mid 30’s seemed to us as one leg in the coffin.
It doesn't matter if you know them by Ghriba, Rayvah or Jrieva these cookies are addicting. When I make them I have to hide some so that my family won’t devour them before they are chilled. I can’t really remember the first time I ate them, it seems as if they were always there, part of my mom’s Shabbat cookies. Over time I forgot about them.
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.
