A Heart Unfortified (A Mind Impatient).

(source)

This was an odd week. My car broke down and had to be towed, I couldn't seem to get everything together that I needed to (signed permission slips, lunch menus, the like), my brother found a strange man sitting under a tree in his front yard when he came home from work. When he asked the wayward gent WHAT THE F*&$K ARE YOU DOING?? the man (clutching an 18-back of beer) said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "I was waiting for my friend to show up so we could drink these beers!" (Well, at least he had a plan.) However, that was not the strangest or saddest thing to happen in the last few days. My niece's former preschool teacher, a 29 year-old with a very strange and memorable nickname, was brutally murdered along with her daughter and another woman at their home. The suspect is, as is heartbreakingly usual in these cases, the estranged father of the girl. After the act, he set the house on fire.

I just wanted to take a moment to stand on my soapbox, and send prayers and love out into the universe for the families of these lovely, lovely people, and to remind  you all - it could be someone you know - mother, brother, sister, friend - a classmate of your child's - who is suffering some sort of abuse or trauma. Don't be afraid to help the people you love find the help they need. We are all in this together.

Now! Back to the regularly scheduled program (because, as much as we miss those who have left us, the living have to keep living, somehow...). Thanks to Julie, Gypsy In My Soul, who has given me some fabulous awards!! (Clap! Clap!!) 

As part of this, I am supposed to tell you seven things about myself. So, away we go! In no particular order.

1. I love mayonnaise. LOVE it. I eat it on fries. And eggs. On poutine (I hate you, Canada, for introducing me to this delciousness!!!). I have never really had it on poutine, but I want to. On enchiladas (that dish is called Enchiladas Montadas, because I guess they are mounted?) I put mayo and eggs in the same category. I actually made up a sandwich in college that was quite a hit (perhaps more so among the crowd that spends their time in a cloud of therapeutic smoke, if you  know what I mean.). The Maggie Sandwich (I wish it was as titillating as it sounds) consisted of:  a fried egg, american cheese,  and fried bologna. The (white!) bread was buttered on the outside, and the whole thing was toasted in a skillet, like a grilled cheese sandwich. I could use one of those now! And the answer to your next question is yes, I was chubbier in college. And as for your second question? DO NOT EVEN TRY TO GIVE ME MIRACLE WHIP!!! You Brits though have a lovely thing called salad cream, and that is really tasty also. I could dedicate this post to all the things I love to eat, acually: fruit chutneys with cheese, a stack of chocolate chip cookies piled in a mug with milk poured on top and eaten with a spoon, peanut butter....

2. I pick up accents fairly quickly. It's embarrassing, because the cumulative effect is that I sound like I am mocking people. By far the worst was when we were in Ireland, because that little lilt? At the end of a phrase? That sounds like a question? Yes. That one. I also can do a pretty good Australian accent (on purpose) but I have to to be reading something out loud - it doesn't just come out. No alcohol required.

3. I tried to sell my next-youngest brother on a street corner when I was about five, and he was almost 2. I guess I was jealous of the new kid, so put a sign around his neck that said "Boy for sale, $30" and dragged him to the end of our street. It's that Arab blood you know. We're business people at heart! My horrified mother only realized what was happening when he got thirsty and came in for a drink of water. We still joke about it now, although mostly it is me saying,"Too bad that sale didn't go through" when he rankles me somehow. Thank God no creeps were out in the neighborhood that day!

4. I am afraid of the dark. I can sleep in darkness if there is someone next to me. If there is someone, but down the hall, it doesn't help. I need a night light.

5. In real life, I am like the second coming of Gandhi, and it pains me deeply to even kill bugs (except roaches, which are evil. And scorpions, which freak me out.). In my entertainment selections (books and movies) I want violence. Car chases. I don't like shooting, more mano a mano. Boxing movies. Fast and the Furious. Gladiator!!!!!!!!!!

6. I collect honeys and salts. My spice cabinet is brimming!! At least they are food products that I will use, I hope, one day. I also love dairy. Check out my fridge!

Rice pudding. Yogurts from Lebanon, Greece, Iceland, Australia. Sour cream. Milk. Mexican crema. Creme fraiche (which is like a French-style sour cream.) There may be buttermilk and fresh cream hiding behind the lemonade; I wouldn't put it past me. That's also not including the butters (French, Irish, Land o Lakes) or the cheeses (cream cheese, cheddar, pecorino romano, feta, whatever Baby Bell is, Gouda, parmesan, provolone.) I think I need a snack right about now.

7. I don't know how to play chess, and it embarrasses me. I tried to learn, but didn't understand it. Too much strategy for a fly by the seat of her pants girl like me.

And now, a random playlist!

The Dead Milkmen - Punk Rock Girl

The Clash - Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

Icehouse - Crazy

My Bloody Valentine - Sometimes

Morrissey - The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get

I Hate Myself (For Loving You).

I am a little bit wonky and battered today. It was the first week back at school/activities for my kids, and trying to get a new schedule on track has been a challenge. Between arranging homework time and music class and fencing practice (And my own music class! And actual work that needs to be done! And dinner to be made!) I am knackered. Sometimes I feel as if I am nothing more than my children's social secretary. Add to that the fact that I have decided they should probably eat breakfast (and not just a to-go cup of cereal and milk in the car) and not eat school lunches this year (awfully unhealthy, and anyway the money I am saving by not buying them will probably pay for a cruise at the end of the year.) The end result is that I am actually making three meals a day and a healthy snack before the aforementioned classes. It's my fault for exposing them to real food early on. They request things like yogurt parfaits and chicken caesar salad wraps ("Please, mom, with the homemade dressing! The one in the bottle tastes gross!") Why can't they just eat fish fingers and Doritos like other kids?

Oh, that's right. Because I love to cook. And bake. And ply teachers, administrators, random passerby, friends, Romans and countrymen with goodies. I admit. Food is love! Behold the raspberry-rose macaroons that I crafted. Lovely, aren't they? Just a bit. And delicious, too. (Admission: I am patting myself on the back because nobody else does. Feel free to weep for me. Ah, to be taken for granted!)

I've always been obsessed with food: eating it, preparing it, watching others grow it successfully (I have a black thumb.) I own over 300 cookbooks (and use them!) plus stacks of magazines, foreign and not. I base vacations around restaurants and food stalls and visits to local grocery stores and markets. I have mad crushes on Nigella Lawson and Jamie Oliver. 

At university, my Shakespeare's Major Plays class required a final group project to successfully complete the course. We all sat through a couple of days of fairly boring presentations (this was before PowerPoint - although, looking back, that was probably a blessing.) Even the group that enacted the death scene from Hamlet didn't do that well. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Gertrude and Hamlet were played by the same guy...but anyway. I'd like to think that our motley crew blasted through the curve. Our project, thanks to my stalwart leadership (I'm a Leo!) was, of course, food-related. Every one of us prepared a dish inspired by Shakespeare's time. One member actually was a hunter and had a frozen pheasant on hand! The other items were really not that authentic but incorporated things like dried fruits and spices that were becoming popular in Elizabethan England. The professor was a bit skeptical, and didn't believe that the bird was pheasant and not turkey until he bit down on a mouthful of buckshot. Thankfully, that didn't prevent us from getting high marks. Undergrads.

My girls not only love to eat, but love to help in the kitchen as well, which makes meal preparation take about five times longer than it should. No matter. The end result, other than their increasingly sophisticated palates, is also a growing appreciation for other cultures and the unrivaled bounty we are blessed to enjoy. It's homework we don't mind doing at all.

The King's Singers - I Love Alas I Love You

U2 - Lemon

The Andrews Sisters - Rum and Coca-Cola

Be Our Guest (From Beauty and the Beast)

Debbie Reynolds - All I Do Is Dream of You

Volver.

Beach, Barceloneta.

Well, I wish I was still here, now. Too bad for me! But it was lovely, and worth the 17 Euros I had to pay for two chairs and an umbrella. The children couldn't understand why a lot of the women were topless ("Because Europeans hate tan lines more than Americans do!") or why people would strip naked to shower off at a public beach. It was a good opportunity to reinforce my views on the matter (stop staring, we all have the same parts in general, nothing to be ashamed of, please don't ever take off your clothes in public, especially for money.) Explaining the sex shops was a bit more difficult....

Barceloneta.

Tapa Tapa. Barcelona.

Catalunya is not traditionally the place for tapas, but almost every other restaurant, be it a tiny, four-seat hole in the wall or a temple of haute cuisine, now offers these delectable little snacks. Unfortunately, as with everything, the quality is hit or miss. Some of the best tapas we had on this trip were here, at Tapa Tapa, which is actually a chain. I did feel a bit awkward taking photos of the food, though.

Castell de Montjuïc. Barcelona.

This fortress was built in the mid 1600s and has been the site of many, many unpleasantries throughout the centuries. I believe, however, that the plan is now to turn it into a center for peace studies.

Castell de Montjuïc.

Castell de Montjuïc.

Flamenco Cordobes. Barcelona.

Flamenco is not a specialty of Catalunya - it is from Andalusia. It was very interesting for me to see the Arab influence in the music and dance - sort of like looking at a picture of your great-great-great-great grandmother and noticing you share the same eyes and mouth. Pictures were not allowed during the show (it was a tiny venue, and I could just see the performers toppling off the stage under the barrage of flashbulbs), but my daughter snapped this one at the end. I was worried that they wouldn't be able to stay awake after a long day of interminable walking (the show started at 1030 pm), but I needn't have been afraid. It went perfectly, and the noise was enough to wake the dead (but not the row full of Koreans ahead of us - they took turns nodding off. Too much sightseeing during the day, I'm sure!)

Fruit Juices. La Boqueria. Barcelona.

La Boqueria is one of the most famous food markets in the world, along with La Merced in Mexico City. Although it isn't particularly large, the array of fruits, vegetables, meats and more make it a feast for the senses. My husband and daughters took pitaya (dragon fruit), which was an eye-popping electric purple. I had the banana-coconut-pineapple, which, although much less exciting to look at, was nonetheless delicious.

La Boqueria.

La Boqueria.

La Boqueria.

My girls got a kick out of this stand - gummy candies in all shapes and flavors. The flan candy tasted just like the real thing, but fortunately the brain one tasted like raspberry.

La Boqueria.

Pastelería Escribà. Barelona.

When it comes to eating, especially when I am holiday, I have very few restrictions and always seem to be hungry. Hence the need for a croissant after being at the market!

Check out the heels! So very Barcelona. Actually, so very Mediterranean.

more. MORE.

Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds,
many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea...

Homer, The Odyssey

Southern Lebanon.

Southern Lebanon.

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending

e.e. cummings, somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

A.E. Houseman, Into My Heart an Air That Kills

Momo's, Beirut.

There is a Moroccan-themed lounge downtown (original location, London) that uses cute coasters printed with Moroccan sayings. It's funny how things can get lost in translation.

Delicious pastry at Momo's. Vanilla cream puff with passion fruit gelee.

Downtown Beirut.

Postcard for a pop-up shop, Beirut.