A Fat Kid's Tribute to Lebanese Food

It bears saying that my Refugee Mother is Lebanese. I ought to also mention that her parish, St. Elias, has a massive Lebanese Festival the weekend after Memorial Day. ...or, right now. Being a good fake daughter, that is exactly where I headed after work last night and where I was at 8:00a this morning (okay, okay, more like 8:30a.) I am currently on my four-hour reprieve and opted to come home for a nap, a diet coke and some AC.

Aside from a shameless promotion for the St. Elias Lebanese Festival (Honestly, if you're anywhere near the valley, you should stop by. We have a TON of food, dancing, beer, wine, a raffle ... food. No seriously, we have food.), this post is to honor all those things I adore about how they make the delicious things they do in the middle east.My Top Ten Happiest Lebanese Foods
1. Hummus. Chick pea, garlic, olive oily goodness. I could happily sit in a corner with a bowl and just eat it with a spoon.
2. Tabbouleh. As a child (okay, we still go all the time), my parents would take us to the Lebanese Taverna Market where we would stuff our faces with schwarmas, couscous, hummus and the like. I never liked tabbouleh growing up because I thought parsley was weird, but at some point in high school, I realized it was glorious and couldn't get enough. There were nights at my Refugee Camp where dinner was a fork, an enormous bowl of tabbouleh, and a glass of wine. Amazing. Today I've made some obscene amount of tabbouleh and it has been fantastic. 20 cups parsley, 16 cups bulgar wheat, a few healthy handfuls of mint, and other large portions of necessary ingredients. Taste-testing is a necessity that I am more than happy to fulfill.
3. Labneh. I never ate much of it prior to living with my Refugee Parents, but this combination of strained yogurt, cucumbers, dried mint and lemon juice is one of the happiest dipping sauces known to man. It's refreshing for summer and I enjoy it even just as a side salad.
4. Kibbeh. (I have seen about 12 variations of spelling of kibbeh this weekend ranging from "kibby," to "kibbi" and "khibbe," I have no idea what the proper spelling is.) Ground beef or lamb, onions, bulgar wheat, mint and a dash of perfection. Whatever recipe they use at St. Elias is truly written by the Big Man Upstairs. I inhaled a portion last night around 10p when I left, and decided it was the most satisfying dinner I've ever had.
5. Stuffed Grape Leaves. ...do I even need to explain why these are so mind-blowing? When I celebrated Easter with my Refugee Parents and their family, I ate a plate of approximately ten of these. Yesterday, they were my go-to snack.
6. Baklava. Honey. Pistachios. Phyllo dough. Win.
7. Anything grilled, roasted, from a dead animal. I don't know how, but the Lebanese just do it better than the rest of us.
8. Anything with spinach. Spinach and cheese roll ups in phyllo, spinach pies. Good God yes please.
9. Beer. Similar to Heineken, in my opinion, Almaza is crisp, sharp and refreshing. I highly recommend pairing it with their fantastic dead animals.
10. Knefe. Phyllo. Honey. Cheese. delicious.

So stop on by St. Elias and get your fat kid ON. Or, if you don't live in the valley, find somewhere where you can get your fat kid on. Because this stuff's amazing.

2010, where did you go?

And so ends 2010. It's really rather ridiculous.
I leave tomorrow to celebrate Christmas with the familia back in DC suburbia, and won't be back to good 'ol Star City until 2011. I enjoyed dinner with the refugee family and even baked some Christmas cookies with them, thinking how surreal it is that I won't see them until next year. I even bid adieu to my favorite burrito joint downtown, waving to it on the way home from work. (Shameless plug? Of course. Delicious? YES.) I'm going to miss our little Christmas tree, my old lady chair that's perfect for drinking tea while I knit and listen to my Wait Wait podcasts, my crazy neighborhood that apparently catches on fire. More on that later. I've grown attached to this town, and two or so weeks of working from my parents' home, while exciting because I get to see my family, is also a little sad. I very much have grown accustomed to my lovely routine here.

That being said, I appreciate 2010 and it's allowing me to find this job. I appreciate that 2010 brought me a college degree, a car, a refugee family, an opportunity to help others, my best non-familial rooming situation (Sister, you'll always win that category), and truly great people. 2010, however, has also had many roadblocks for me. Twelve months ago, I did not imagine myself anywhere near Roanoke... ever. It's funny how life works out. I am very ready for 2011, though. May it bring me many grant wins, more creative ways to save money, and generally pleasant surprises.

As I wrapped up my year here, I went to give the annual report at one of our client's board meetings tonight. All went well, but on the drive home, I noticed a surprising amount of fire trucks passing me. The closer I came to the apartment, the more there were. A block away from home, they were everywhere. I very much remember thinking, "That's a TON of fire trucks and cops for a heart attack..." And then I looked up, and saw a TON of smoke.

I parked Mr. Merlot and walked to the back of my building, naturally calling OfficeMate to let him know that our apartment may be on fire, something he should know since he was in it. It wasn't. But we're along an alley, and a garage on the alley was in flames, with cinders falling by my feet. I even enjoyed a slight dusting from the fire extinguisher hose. Honestly, there is never a dull moment here.

We decided to call it an evening with a Christmas movie. It seemed fitting. I can now finally say I've seen Die Hard.

Merry Christmas, intertubes, and a Happy New Year. I'm taking a blog sabbatical until 2011. If you desperately are in need of knowing what I'm up to, imagine me eating with my family. Because that's what we do best.

A Thank You

Today, I stabilize my living situation. Tonight, I sleep in a place I can call my own for the next 12 months. Tomorrow, I won't have to pick my clothes out of a suitcase (let's be honest here, it's a hiking backpack).

However, in all this tumult of the past two months, I have found the best two people in the valley. I found two people who took me in at my time of need, who fed me, and who went above and beyond what I requested of them. They, more than anyone else, made Roanoke feel like home to me. My Refugee Parents have included me in family activities, ask me how my day is (This is asked, without fail, every single day. I'm always fascinated), and supplied me with fantastic company and riveting stories. I am beyond thankful.
I'm excited to be living somewhere stable, but I'm honestly rather bummed that I have to leave my refugee camp - I've grown quite attached.

Here's to phenomenally good-hearted people. Here's to sunny October Sundays for moving. Here's to packing up Mr. Merlot and moving in Roanoke for the third and final time.