"Are you sure that this is what you want to make as first course for Passover dinner?” asked my better half, with a look that makes you wonder if it wasn’t better to stay in bed that morning and play sick. “I thought that this might be an excellent first course” I answered trying to sound convincing. “Actually, I’m sure it will make an excellent first course, excellent and delicious” she added, “but preparing 25 personal dishes? The kind you have to make to order so they come out right??”
For years, the relationship between me and eggplants was to simply ignore each other. It was invisible to me. I’d pass an eggplant’s stall at the farmer's market and wouldn't even notice it. When someone would make an eggplant dish i’d ignore it as if it didn’t exist.
"What is this flavor in the chicken?” my mom asked, still trying to identify it herself. “Is it tasty?” I answered her question with a question, “yes, but I can’t tell what is it”. “Silan” I said, “you add silan to chicken?” “yes, and soy sauce too”.
“What is this spice?” mom asked when I took the sumac out of the spice cabinet. “Sumac” I answered, “and what are you using it for?” she continued “you can add it to rice, to meatballs, today I’m using it for chicken”. Mom and dad came to visit us, and as usual mom would enter the kitchen.