The Mediterranean Plus In Pensacola
Woooo HOOOOOO on YOU, AdventureMan, you were RIGHT! (He always looks for his name, so might as well put it right up front for him 😉 )
We had visited an international grocery store to look for some particular spices, and AdventureMan spotted the Mediterranean Plus just around the corner. We thought they might be related . . . both have felafel and other “Mediterranean” specialties we have come to associate with the Middle East – hummus, tabouli, baba ghannoush, fattoush . . .
As we walked in, we knew we had come to the right place:
The menu was to die for – almost all the things we love. The owner is Jordanian, and, while there is no fattah for my early breakfast 🙂 he has a lot of other wonderful dishes to satisfy our ‘Mediterranean’ cravings. Once again, I apologize. Sometimes when the food shows up, I forget about photos until it is too late. I wish you could have seen this plate when it was prepared, it was beautiful. Even better, the baba ghannoush is lush and smokey, as good as any I have ever had in Kuwait and Qatar. The tabouli was just exactly right, the right blend of parsley and bulgar, exactly the right amount of lemon. Mumtaz.
I have been on a mission. I have a good friend who is down to the last of some Kuwait biriyani spices I had brought back as a guest gift a while back, and I was hoping to find more. I found biriyani spice AND I found Lebanese olive oil. I laughed when I saw Vimto:
As AdventureMan talked with the owner, he discovered we actually had been in the restaurant before, in its previous location on Cervantes. This location has a lot more space for diners and for parking. We are thrilled to find it – the food is GOOD!
Mediterranean Plus
6895 N 9th Ave
Pensacola
850 469 9225
Oh! Didn’t It Rain!
I love it that this YouTube version of Mahalia Jackson’s rendition of “Oh Didn’t It Rain!” starts out with photos in Wadi Rum in Jordan, a couple peeks at Petra, and as the camera backs off, the effects of wind and rain on the topography of the Wadi Rum area. We camped there for three nights, lo, these many years ago, going on camelback into the deeper parts of the canyon. It was unforgettable.
My trip back into Doha last night was unforgettable.
In what is usually the most mundane of flights, we found ourselves bumping up and down with lightning striking all around us, from about the halfway point all the way into Doha. I’ve never had a lot of faith in the aerodynamics that keeps airplanes up in the air, and seeing flashes of lightning all around me was a genuinely religious experience, LOL.
(From article on lightning strikes plane in Japan: According to a Scientific American article about lightning strikes and aircraft, its is “estimated that on average, each airplane in the U.S. commercial fleet is struck lightly by lightning more than once each year”. However, the article notes that the last crash directly attributed to a lightning strike occurred back in 1967 when the fuel tank exploded.)
At the airport, all the baggage handlers actually had on rain-gear, and on the way home, there were deep pools where drains have clogged. And, as AdventureMan said, when you live at sea level, just where is the water going to drain?
I am so thankful to be home. Home for the next scant three weeks, anyway, as I pack up all those boxes once again for what we think will be (one of) our last moves. Sorting, giving away, “can I live without this if I leave it behind?” “Will I regret it forever if I leave this behind?” “Is there someone who could give this a good home?”
I have two great avenues of disposal; my own church, where incoming church personnel can make use of household goods and not have to buy everything new, and my housekeeper’s church, where they cherish anything they get.
A Question of Balances
This made me laugh out loud – send to me by a good friend in, of course, Washington State:
God was missing for six days.. Eventually, Michael, the archangel, found him, resting on the seventh day.
He inquired, ‘Where have you been?’
God smiled deeply and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds, ‘Look, Michael. Look what I’ve made.’
Archangel Michael looked puzzled, and said, ‘What is it?’
‘It’s a planet,’ replied God, ‘and I’ve put life on it.. I’m going to call it Earth and it’s going to be a place to test Balance.’
‘Balance?’ inquired Michael, ‘I’m still confused.’
God explained, pointing to different parts of earth. ‘For example, northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth, while southern Europe is going to be poor. Over here I’ve placed a continent of white people, and over there is a continent of black people. Balance in all things.’
God continued pointing to different countries. ‘This one will be extremely hot, while this one will be very cold and covered in ice.’
The Archangel , impressed by God’s work, then pointed to a land area and said, ‘What’s that one?’
‘That’s Washington State, one of the most glorious places on earth. There are beautiful mountains, rivers and streams, lakes, forests, hills, and plains. The people from Washington State are going to be handsome, modest, intelligent, and humorous, and they are going to travel the world. They will be extremely sociable, hardworking, high achieving, carriers of peace, and producers of software.’
Michael gasped in wonder and admiration, but then asked, ‘But what about balance, God? You said there would be balance.’
God smiled, ‘There’s another Washington. Wait till you see the idiots I put there.
Stop Honor Killings.com
I used to send out e-mails to close friends about my adventures travelling and living in “exotic” places. When you live your entire life in one place, the smallest things that may seem trivial to you are interesting and different to those who have never been to your country. I would get letters back saying “you don’t know me, you don’t even know the person who shared your e-mail with me, but (that person’s) former wife is related to one of the people you sent the e-mail to . .”
If someone makes an interesting comment on a blog I follow, sometimes I follow that comment, which I did today. On the blog of a person I don’t follow, from a comment from another blogger I don’t follow, I found this fascinating website:
Stop Honor Killings.com
Here is what I would describe as their mission statement:
INTERNATIONAL: International Campaign Against Honour Killings
Posted by Ginger on Wednesday, September 05, 2007 (12:56:46) (187 reads)
Over 5000 women and girls are killed every year by family members in so-called ‘honour killings’, according to the UN. These crimes occur where cultures believe that a woman’s unsanctioned sexual behaviour brings such shame on the family that any female accused or suspected must be murdered. Reasons for these murders can be as trivial as talking to a man, or as innocent as suffering rape.
I’ve lived in countries where honor killings happened, and we knew about it. It would be in the paper. We saw it in Jordan, in particular, where there is now a huge effort to put an end to the killings, and in Qatar, where it was never in the paper, but the kids would tell their teachers about it, and word travels fast in a small country.
I never hear a word about honor killings in Kuwait.
Is that because there aren’t any?
French Chocolate Ice Cream
Perfect for beating the summer heat! This ice cream is so rich, so creamy, and so chocolat-ey that it makes you forget your worries.
French Chocolate Ice Cream
This takes a little time – and an ice cream churn – but oh, is it so worth it.
2 teaspoons vanilla flavoring
2 cups milk
6 egg yolks
1 cup sugar
1 Tablespoon cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 squares unsweetened chocolate
3 cups heavy cream
Heat milk in small saucepan just until bubbles begin to appear around edge of pan.
Beat egg yolks in large bowl with sugar, cornstarch and salt.
Slowly add hot milk into egg yolk mixture, stirring constantly.
Return all to saucepan and heat slowly , stirring constantly, over medium heat until mixture thickens and just comes to a boil.
Remove from heat and add two teaspoons vanilla and chocolate squares, and continue stirring until the chocolate is melted.
Stir in cream.
Cool completely.
Strain into a four quart freezer can of ice cream maker.
Freeze according to manufacturers directions. Serve immediately, or spoon into freezer container and place in freezer. This won’t last long – it is SO good!
Note:
One time I was making this ice cream for guests. My small son, who loved this ice cream, kept asking if it was cool enough to churn yet. I told him one thing: Don’t touch the ice cream container.
He couldn’t help it. He had to see if it was cool enough to churn. Unfortunately, the refrigerator-slick canister slid through his hands, and as he struggled to catch it, he somehow hit it up, and put some spin on it. As I prepared to welcome guests, the gooey, thick, chocolate mixture twirled up, up and out of the canister, spinning ALL OVER THE KITCHEN and all over my small son.
He looked so horrified as he stood there, rooted to the floor, covered by his chocolaty guilt. He looked at me with terror in his eyes. He had disobeyed, and he feared the consequences.
I struggled really really hard not to laugh, and I looked at him very crossly and told him he had to stand there, covered with chocolate, until I had cleaned up the rest of the mess. Then I cleaned him up, and started another batch of the mixture. Just in time, I popped him into the bathtub as the guests arrived. The mixture was cool enough by the time I served dinner, and churned as we ate. It was ready just in time for dessert.
To this day, I think of my son with a big grin every time I see this recipe.
No Accounting for Taste
My Mother once joked that the definition of good taste was someone whose taste agreed with your own. Her house is all smooth, modern, elegant lines, while mine is all old, antique and semi-antique. She has clean lines and clear surfaces, and I am guessing that to her, my decor is cluttered. (Not that she criticizes me.) We just have different tastes.
My husband and I also have different tastes. Often, his eye will alight on something, say like a Masai shield 7 feet long, and he will say “wouldn’t that be great in our house?” and my response is “yes! In your den!” He calls his den The Adventure Man Museum, and says that the only thing the Tarek Rejab has on him is that they have had a couple more decades of collecting. But he is still working on it!
He LOVES these trees. He keeps threatening to buy a couple for our yards back home. I mention little things like shipping expenses. . . . or maybe he is pulling my leg – ya think?
So far, we agree that they look great in context. I am not so sure they would do so sell in a rainy climate.
And this is what I love:
You used to find these everywhere in the Gulf, even in the cities you would find them in the diwaniyyas. This is the only one I have seen since I came to Kuwait, and it is in a museum. I remember being out in the beit-as-shar in the desert (for my non-Arabic speaking friends: tents, literally, House of Hair because the tenting was woven of goat and camel hair.) I remember the sound of the metal clanging as the coffee was ground in the morter, I remember the smell of the wood fire when the coffee was brewing, and I remember the coffee being poured through branches that kept (some of) the grounds out. I miss that ceremony; I miss the sounds and smells and taste, because out in the desert coffee tastes different. It wasn’t that long ago – but I never see them anymore.
Do you?
Widad Kawar’s Passion
Many years ago, in another life, I was honored to visit the collection of Widad Kawar in Amman, Jordan. I was so young, and so completely in awe of Widad, who had made it a life mission to collect traditional clothing of the area, Palestinian, which was her own heritage, and nomadic.
It was like being a little girl and getting to play dress up as we oooohed and aahhhed over these gorgeous old dresses and head dresses. I had no idea she had become an institution, until I began to research a style of hijab I had seen there which I found very elegant.
LIttle Diamond, these are for you. They are from several sources, including The Arab Heritage site on Widad Kawar which I urge you to peruse when you have a spare hour or half a day or . . . a lifetime. She has created a monumental body of work with her passion for preserving these fabulous textiles.
From Widad Kawar’s collection: North Jordan
Shows a little of the glitz – this one is from Salt, photo from Widad Kawar’s collection:
I love this photo. The woman has a plain version of the headdress, and is wearing a double dress . . . and her husband is holding her hand!
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