Never-Ending Sunrise 2 Jan 09
Good morning!
We stayed up late last night watching movies. At my normal time this morning, I woke up and told myself I could go back to sleep, but . . . sleep didn’t come. I don’t know how it works for you – I am a morning person. Once I am awake, I am awake. And it was just about time for a sunrise, so I joined the Qatteri Cat in the living room, and took a photo of a very grey, very cold, day.
I thought yesterday was WARM. I had headed out, all bundled up for winter, with AdventureMan, and we were both warm almost as soon as we got in the car. I had to take off a layer as we ran our errands. Late last night, seeing our guests off, we were both shivering in the cold – the weather changed so quickly.
Here is what it looks like this morning:
Here is the dawning at 0630:
Just 15 minutes later, a whole new sky:
And another 15 minutes it looks like an artist took paintbrush to the sky, giving it highlights and depth and color:
My cholesterol actually came down this year – it wasn’t high, but it was rising. Eating the dreaded oatmeal and more vegetables, less meat seemed to help. When I just can’t stand the thought of another bowl of oatmeal, I fix myself a bowl of Kashi with blueberries, which, for my US viewers, costs around $11 – $12 a box – not a large box – here in Kuwait. I save it for special occasions. 😉
What is it called in Kuwait? Can you do it?
In the comments of a recent post, blogger Moodi asked if I liked Qatayif. I checked the Wikipedia page, and it reminded me of something else.
In Qatar, when I lived there, our teachers at The Qatar Center for the Presentation of Islam demonstrated making a large, thin dough that was used in many ways, folded and used in casseroles, used as a foundation in serving dishes, crumbled up when dry and used in breakfast making . . .
It was made by hand, using a dough that you held in your hand, and tossed and brought back to your hand after leaving a dot on a hot griddle. I think the hot griddle might have been flat some times, and like an upside-down wok other times. The pancake would turn out large and round, but only a few atoms thick, they were very very thin and delicate.
I never have seen this in Kuwait, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
Do any of your grandmothers or mothers make thin pancakes for special holidays in this manner? Can you tell me what it is called?
In Tunisia, women used to make Malsouqa, the thin thin dough used to make brik and sell it in stacks in the marketplace. You could wait, and buy it fresh off the stove, they would toss and grab, toss and grab, and then peel the very thin, fragile skin of dough off the burner. Pop in a little tuna, chopped parsley. salt, pepper and egg, fry lightly in a little olive oil in a frying pan – heaven in a wrapper.
I was obsessed. It took me an hour – but I found a wonderful blog, Chef Zadi with these fabulous photos of how malsouka are made. His blog is all about healthy North African cuisine
So – have you seen anything similar, something done on a hot iron with a dough held in the hand and tossed at the got grill over and over, leaving small spots of dough that gather into a large flaky thin pastry?
Cross Cultural Eating
“And we are going to roast chestnuts!” my good friend said, and inwardly I cringed.
I remember years ago, when a French friend told me her mother was bringing marron glace to Tunisia, she was so excited, she could talk of nothing else for days.
“And when she comes,” my friend said, “you must come over and we shall eat marron glace together!” Her mother came, I was invited, and eager. Then I took my first bite of marron glace, and almost gagged. It was the flavor. It was the texture. I didn’t like them at all! Fortunately, there were other small foods, and I could push the chestnut around and hide it on my plate, and politely demur that I didn’t want to eat all her special marrons and deprive her of the pleasure.
We love being with this couple, and I accepted the invitation. Little did I know, as I dreaded being polite about the roasted chestnuts, that a perfectly roasted chestnut is a different food altogether! We sat outside, on a mile winter’s night in Kuwait, around a eucalyptus fire, with that fabulous aromatic smoke drifting around us, eating toasted delicious chestnuts and enjoying every bite.
Some things you just grow up knowing are wrong wrong wrong. Another friend wrinkled her nose when I told her my favorite Christmas dish was cranberry gelatin salad. In her experience, jello salads were full of horrid things like miniature marshmallows, whipped cream, cottage cheese. For her, it was inelegant, just about the worst thing you could say about any food. (To her surprise, she ended up liking the gelatin salad.)
“Oh, Harissa!” my Qatteri friend nearly swooned in bliss, when I asked her about her favorite Ramadan treat. I could hardly wait to try it, and when I did – it was the texture that stopped me cold in my tracks. I can’t even tell you how it tasted; there was a viscosity in it that deterred me from trying another bite.
When we go out with my Chinese friend for dim-sum, there are dishes she won’t even let us try. We trust her; she really knows what will be over the line for us. Chicken’s feet, for one. They bring out so many dishes, there are plenty that we like, and we never go hungry.
For my husband, a Southerner, it isn’t Thanksgiving or Christmas without cornbread dressing. I have to keep him out of the South to keep him alive; when we live in the South, he can’t resist the deep fried seafood. For me, I have to stay away from France and Germany, I love the pate´, the terrines, the cassoulet; the fatty geese, the fatty duck, the fried the vegetables and salads laced with lardons.
When we eat at one of the Japanese restaurants here, I can’t help but wonder how really Japanese the food is – when I have eaten with Japanese friends, there are odd colored things made with fruit juice, delicate morsels of unidentified meat . . . I suspect there are things common on Japanese menus in Japan that they know we won’t eat, and they don’t even bother to put on the menus in the US, or in Kuwait. When I see the cooks, I don’t think most of them are Japanese, and I wonder if Japanese people here ever ask for a truly Japanese dish, only to learn that the cook doesn’t know what it is.
One of the best things about living in another country is that you learn that the things you take for granted, you can’t take for granted. I learned that you can’t trust that every person you meet was raised eating with a fork. I learned ways to eat with my hands and not be messy. I learned that in some countries, you NEVER touch food with your fingers, you always use a utensil. I learned that in some countries, it is considered “uncultured” to drink your coffee with cream or sugar or any additive. I learned in some countries, you never smile in the market until you have agreed on a price. I learned in some countries, you can have a cup of tea while shopping and it doesn’t obligate you to buy. I’ve learned things I don’t even know I’ve learned, conquered prejudices I didn’t even know I had. I’ve stepped on toes, thinking I was behaving politely. I’ve violated customs I didn’t know existed. Some of what I have learned has been painful . . . and worth the pain.
Sunrise 27 December 2008
It’s another beautiful winter’s day in Kuwait. The bone-chilling cold has gone – for the moment, anyway – and the days are balmy high sixty’s (Fahrenheit) – low seventies. At night, you get to wear a light sweater. It is heaven.
The market is still full of Kuwaiti shrimp, which disappear around the 15th of January, when the season finishes. Meanwhile – a feast!
AdventureMan and I are dining on leftovers these days, sounds bad, but Christmas leftovers are the best. Flavors have time to mellow and marry, and we’d rather eat these leftovers than go out to eat!
Smoked Salmon Spread:
Rouladen:
Cranberry Salad:
The faucet in my kitchen is fixed, thanks be to God!
Have a great day, Kuwait.
Good Morning, Kuwait
Another gorgeous winter day dawning in Kuwait, with a high expected around 77°R/25°C today, while my poor family in the US is shivering with cold. I have a good friend who had three different family members stranded in three different airports, trying to get home for Christmas, and snow accumulating up to 18 inches while she prays for their safe arrivals.
Have a sweet day, Kuwait. 🙂
I will spend the day preparing for major meals on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Mom, I am making your Cranberry Salad. 🙂
Anthony’s At the Airport
We like the Anthony’s chain of seafood restaurants in the Seattle area, and we did not know they had one at the Seattle airport. We got there early, our flight was delayed, so we decided to have breakfast. There were all kinds of options, but when we saw the Anthony’s, we knew that was where we wanted to eat.
First, as you walk in, the floor is sort of sea-like, beach and sea-like, all done in stone and concrete and glass, but in waves. I was so fascinated by having all that beauty underfoot that I completely forgot to take any photos, but it thrilled me to have artwork so beautifully utilitarian. I can’t imagine who designed it, but it delighted my heart.
And, speaking of hearts, AdventureMan and I were disgustingly good. We just got our blood tests back and while our cholesterol levels have improved, we are still borderline, and want to be careful. I am not a big fan of oatmeal, but when it is smothered in brown sugar and pecans and blueberries it is a whole different ball game.
AdventureMan had the granola with bananas and blueberries – and said it was a “Yumm.”
We loved the windows of the restaurant – it reminded us of the old Saarinen TWA wing at JFK airport, with it’s soaring ceilings and feeling of flight.
I love the care taken with the details – even the teacups:
And the reminder that Anthony’s – even at the airport – sticks close to the sea:
One Step Down
It was a real eye opener, being back in the USA. AdventureMan had an interesting observation, something he learned a long time ago in a sociology class. It has to do with dining in restaurants. When a guy eats his lunch out every day, he goes to one kind of place, and then when he takes his family out for a meal on Sunday, he goes one step up, takes them to a better restaurant than he would go to every day.
As we travelled in different parts of the United States, what we saw was just the opposite – one step down. People we know still have jobs, still make their house payments, still have the same income. The PERCEPTIONS however, are very different. People are nervous, maybe even a little worried about their jobs. They are not FEELING as prosperous as they felt last year, or the year before. They are spending less. They are going to eat out, but will eat out at that one-step-down restaurant, and not the higher priced restaurant.
As we Christmas shopped, we saw HUGE differences. The Macy’s and the Dillard’s and the big delightfully fancy stores are like ghost towns, and for good reason. They have drastically cut back on their inventory. Where you had to fight your way through the crowded racks a couple years ago, there is a lot of space this year. I didn’t see anything very exciting in terms of fashions or shoes. The Targets and the Fred Meyers (a Pacific Northwest chain) were packed with shoppers, prices were cut, and products were flying off the shelves.
A newspaper article said that what people are buying are . . . appliances. Things people really use – toasters, mixers, etc. The big difference is, they are insisting on appliances in COLOR – carmine reds, blueberrys, greens – chartreuse seems to be big this year, for Christmas, for clothing, and for decorations. Even for Christmas cookies. Chartreuse and pink are this year’s Christmasy red and green. Total hoot. But when people start drawing back from spending, they buy practical things – in fanciful colors. I remember reading once that when times get tough, lipstick sales soar. Women will spend on something small to make themselves feel good, and lipstick does the trick.
The trip was a real eye opener. AdventureMan has sticker shock. I just laugh. I think Kuwait is expensive! AdventureMan doesn’t buy groceries. I remember one time we were together at the Co-op and he couldn’t believe what we were spending on milk – but what are you going to do? Not buy milk? I have always used powdered milk for baking, but with the Chinese thing, I even worry about powdered milk.
Are you going through sticker shock? Are your spending habits changing? Do you eat in restaurants, or are you eating more at home?
Muslim Prisoners in France
One of the things that keeps me blogging is the input I get from my readers. Behind the scenes this morning, I was sent two fascinating articles. This first one, from blogger Facts and Doubts, is an article from The Washington Post on Muslim Prisoners in France – and Europe.
Here is just a short excerpt from an article you will want to read:
This prison is majority Muslim — as is virtually every house of incarceration in France. About 60 to 70 percent of all inmates in the country’s prison system are Muslim, according to Muslim leaders, sociologists and researchers, though Muslims make up only about 12 percent of the country’s population.
On a continent where immigrants and the children of immigrants are disproportionately represented in almost every prison system, the French figures are the most marked, according to researchers, criminologists and Muslim leaders.
“The high percentage of Muslims in prisons is a direct consequence of the failure of the integration of minorities in France,” said Moussa Khedimellah, a sociologist who has spent several years conducting research on Muslims in the French penal system.
In Britain, 11 percent of prisoners are Muslim in contrast to about 3 percent of all inhabitants, according to the Justice Ministry. Research by the Open Society Institute, an advocacy organization, shows that in the Netherlands 20 percent of adult prisoners and 26 percent of all juvenile offenders are Muslim; the country is about 5.5 percent Muslim. In Belgium, Muslims from Morocco and Turkey make up at least 16 percent of the prison population, compared with 2 percent of the general populace, the research found.
I had no idea. And my eyes were opened to food being a big issue in prison – but of course. (smacks head) Thank you, Facts and Doubts, for passing along this fascinating and enlightening article.
Joe Patti’s and Joey Patti’s in Pensacola
My son’s wife looked at me thoughtfully, and said “Has anyone ever told you about Joey Patti’s?”
“I’ve seen his ads,” I replied.
“Pensacola people say his seafood is the BEST,” she says. “I’ve eaten there once, and I thought it was pretty good. You might want to give it a try.”
I understand what she means. She knows that wherever I go, I like to look behind the curtains, to know where the locals go, what they talk about, how they think. I like to know what makes peoples tick. We are all more alike than we are different, but the differences are so interesting.
Joe Patti runs his own fishing fleet. He processes and sells some of the freshest seafood in the Gulf. He is a big feature on the Pensacola waterfront, and nearby is Joey Patti’s restaurant. We saw lots of happy seagulls and pelicans around the boats and seafood plant, and the parking lot at the restaurant was totally full.
We followed the signs for Joey Patti’s, connected – we don’t know exactly how – one is a seafood seller, one is a restaurant. We were given the very last available booth in the very large restaurant, which was totally bustling with customers – all of Pensacola seemed to be eating lunch there the same day we were there. We soon learned why – the food was simple Southern seafood at its best – fresh, hot and oh, so good.
Clam chowder
Crab Cake Sandwich
Oyster Po'Boy Sandwich
Hush Puppies (actually, there were more, but we couldn't wait)
If you get to Pensacola, look down on the waterfront for Joey Patti’s. You’ll be in for a treat.
Re-Entry
When I first arrive back in the United States, I always have to transition slowly. I have no sales-resistance. I usually have a list for Target, supplies I will need immediately while I am traveling; not glamorous things, but things like shampoo and underwear and scotch tape and wrappings, that sort of thing, useful things. We always come out with way more than our list. No resistance.
I won’t even let myself go into the Apple Market until I have been back for a while. When I get to their spices aisle, my heart just starts going pitty-pat:
One entire aisle, entirely devoted to seasonings – and so many things we never see in Kuwait – poppy seeds! File’! A variety of Chili mixes, seasoned shrimp boils . . . It’s all I can do not to buy one of everything.
And the irony? What do I bring back for my friends in the US from Kuwait? Kuwaiti spices – that biriyani mix, pine nuts, saffron, and those little red dried pomegranate seeds. They are always a huge hit – it’s always about what you can’t get your hands on, isn’t it?
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