Goodness Gracious Great Balls of...Bread?

When I went to Sarkis and Ivete's house the other weekend, I also had a chance to watch members of their family make a type of flatbread that is commonly eaten in both Lebannon and Syria. Large balls of dough are formed and then tossed into thin, flat discs, similar to the way a pizza crust is formed.

Joe is really excited about the bread!

 

Above is a video of one of the balls of dough being tossed into a disc. As you can probably imagine, doing that for a few hours would get to be a little tiring. I was just happy to watch the process take place.

Once the disks are formed, they are put on a saj to cook. A saj is kind of like an upside down wok, which is then heated with either propane or a wood fire. The bread cooks on the saj for a few minutes until it turns golden brown and the formed bubbles begin to deflate. Below is a video of Joe's dad, Henri, placing a piece of bread on the saj. A pillow is used to keep the bread flat and prevent folding in the process.

The entire breadmaking operation was overseen by Sarkis' Aunt Marie. She made all of the dough that was used that night. Once the bread was finished cooking, it was ready to be eaten immediately. They large pieces reminded me of a warm towel, only they were much more delicious. We ate almost all of the food that was served with pieces of it as they were churned out with the speed of an assembly line.

Aunt Marie preparing one of
the disks to be tossed.

Seth attempting to place one of
disks on the saj. Nice job!

And here's my attempt. Seth was nice enough to capture it on video for me. I could probably use a little practice, but I definitely gave it a solid attempt!

Arak - Kesak! Kesik! Keskun!

On Saturday I went with Joe and Seth to Galesburg, IL, to join in the fun of a large family gathering. The occasion? Making arak (drop the k, and say "ara," quickly rolling your tongue on the 'r'), which is a liquor that is traditionally drank in many Middle Eastern countries. The get-together was hosted by Joe's Aunt Ivete Uncle Sarkis, or "Sharky," who headed up the distillation. Arak is a highly alcoholic beverage (think whiskey), but Sarkis checked with the local police to make sure it was legal to distill. Needless to say, it was a great night for all!

Sarkis is explaining the
distillation process.

Sarkis had already started the distillation process by the time we got to their house around 5PM, but we were just in time to listen to him give a great explanation of the steps he follows. The first thing that needs to be done is to havest and smash grapes, preferrably white, because they tend to be sweeter (more sugar=more alcohol), and let them ferment naturally in a container for a period of 20-25 days. Stems and seeds are all left in the mixture, which Sarkis stirs everyday to allow all of the sugar to be converted into alcohol.

The buckets are full of the smashed grape
mixture, though this picture was taken
after alcohol had been derived from it.
The base of the distiller is
also pictured here.

After the fermentation period is over, the actual distillation can begin. Sarkis owns a large distiller that he actually brought back from Lebanon. He fills the kettle-like base with the grapes and then seals the base and the rest of the structure with dough. In Lebanon, clay would usually be used for this purpose. The entire distiller is placed above a fire, which is constantly kept lit. The fire will eventually cause the alcohol to boil off of the fermented grape mixture and rise to the top of the distiller.

The top piece is a hollow stack that ascends up to a dome that is surrounded by a water reservoir. Cold water is run through to cool the alcohol vapors so that they can turn back into liquid. It is extremely important to cool the vapors right away, otherwise you will have what Sarkis refered to as, "a bomb waiting to blow up," inside the distiller. The alcohol slowly drips down through a tube into a collection container. Arak actually means "sweat" in Arabic.

You can see the fire used to boil
the grape mixture.

The liquid alcohol is tested for its purity by splashing a small amount on the fire. As long as it creates a flame, it is still of high purity. Once this fails to occur, it means all the alcohol has been taken from that batch of grapes, and a new batch can be put in the base. A batch of alcohol needs to be distilled at least once more. Until then, it is refered to, in Lebanese Arabic, as spirito (speer-ee-toe). 

Once all of the grapes have produced spirito, Sarkis then distills the alcohol a second time. For this step he adds aniseed to the alcohol. If you have ever tried black licorice, you will know the flavor of anise. It is placed right into the base with the alcohol, and its oil and flavor is carried over into the finished product. Sarkis sometimes even distills the arak a third time to add more flavor and further concentrate the alcohol, but it is ready to drink after the second distillation.

My first cup! Actually,
this was arak that Sarkis
made the year before. Arak is
a clear liquid, but it is often
added to water, which creates
a milky-colored emulsion.

Aside from watching the arak be made, many of Joe and Seth's family were there to visit and enjoy a wonderful potluck, mostly consiting of Lebanese and Brazilian foods. I was extremely thankful for that, because I hadn't eaten the entire day, and I rarely found myself without something to eat. As I said to Seth, "I tried everything, and I could make a meal even out of the things I liked the least." It was all so good!

Check out...

...this spread!

We stayed until two or three in the morning, sitting outside by a fire and laughing the whole time. At one point, Joe and Seth's Aunt Eva taught me how to say "cheers" in Lebanese Arabic. "Kesak (kay-suck)," she said to me, holding out the wine cooler she was drinking (not everyone cares for arak). I was a little confused. "She said, 'Cheers!'" Seth informed me. "You say, 'Kesik (kay-seek),' back to her, since she's a woman. Kesak is used when you are speaking to a man, and you say, 'Keskun (kay-scon),' when speaking to the whole group." 

Joe's mom, Theresa, Seth, cousins Tyler and Elana (sp?), and Joe's brother, Anthony.

Tyler and Elana's dad, Tony, Joe's dad, Henri, me, and
Joe and Seth's Aunt Eva. I have no clue
why I was making that face.

"Kesak," I said, realizing I had messed up before the word fully left my lips. Everyone around just laughed. "Kesik," Seth reminded me. "Kesik," I repeated, holding out my glass, a little embarrassed, just reaching far enough across the fire pit to make contact with Eva's bottle. Luckily, I had many more opportunities to practice that night.

"Joe" at the Alwan's

When Joe asked me if I wanted to go over to his parents' house for coffee on Monday night, I jumped at the invitation. I love the Turkish coffee that is drunk by the Lebanese, and I knew it would be a great time relaxing and hanging out with his family. When I got in the car, Joe informed me that I was also invited to eat pizza with them, since his family hadn't settled down to have dinner, thought it was already 8:30PM. Pizza and coffee-what more could a college student ask for?!

Once we got to their house, Joe and I sat down in the living room with his dad, Henri, and youngest brother, Anthony. His dad was busy building a Halloween costume for a party he and Joe's mom, Theresa, are going to attend, and Anthony was torn between doing his math homework and showing us the trophy he won in a recent soccer tournament. Joe's other younger brother, John, walked in a few minutes later after working out at the YMCA, and Joe's mom came in and out of the room to talk to us as she was cooking dinner.

Eventually it was time to eat, so we moved the conversation to the dining room table. It felt really nice to sit down for a meal with a family, since I don't regulary get that chance during the semester. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Joe's mom had also an "appetizer" of stuffed, cooked kibbeh (refer to "There Ain't Nothin' Like a Home-Cooked Meal"). The stuffing was a mix of caramelized onions and pine nuts, and the whole thing kind of reminded me of an all-meat Hot Pocket. I learned that these are also a common street food in Brazil, where there is an even larger Lebanese population than in Lebanon itself, and where Joe's mom is from.

Stuffed, cooked kibbeh

John and Joe

After trying the kibbeh, we ate some pizza, and then it was time for coffee and dessert! Turkish coffee is not actually a type of coffee but rather a method of preparing coffee. The basic idea is to use a small pot to boil water, then pour in finely ground coffee, and finally bring the mixture back up to a boil. This process takes some fine-tuned technique, but Joe's mom made it look just as easy as using a typical coffee maker. Sugar is also sometimes added to the boiling water in the beginning to take some of the strengh from the coffee.

Boiling the coffee.

Joe's mom served the coffee in small cups, similar to espresso, and also brought out a couple Brazilian desserts for us to try. The one I had was ricotta pie (think cheesecake) topped with goiabada (goy-a-bah-dah), which is a guava paste served in Portuguese-speaking countries.

 

Here's the final result.

The ricotta pie,
topped with goiabada.

I was wired after drinking two cups of coffee, and Joe and I decided we should probably head back to campus to work on homework. Actually, I wish I had some of that coffee right now, since I'm posting this at around 2:30AM.

I guess I'll just leave everyone by sharing a joke Anthony told that night, which I have found unexplainably funny for the last couple of days: A pirate walks into a bar, complete with a peg leg, a hook and an eye patch. The bartender asks, "Hey, how'd you get the peg leg?" Pirate replies, "Argh, I got into a fight." Bartender says, "Ok. Well, how'd you get the hook?" Pirate replies, "Argh, I got into another fight." Bartender says, "Alright. Well, how'd you get the eye patch?" Pirate replies, "Argh, I was layin' on the beach, and a bird pooped on my face. It was me first day with the hook."

Thank you very much to the Alwan's!
Henri, Theresa, Joe, John & Anthony

The ten-year-old in me is still laughing...

Highs and Lows

Well, Fall Break at Bradley University has come and gone, and Joe and I are getting set to graduate in December. it's one of those weird times in our lives when we are both excited and nervous, content, yet anxious. Both of us has started preparing for our transition from full-time student to (hopefully) full-time employee.  Something that has helped us prepare for this time is our close friendship and the fact that we can talk to each other about almost anything.

During one of our "therapy sessions", in which one or both of us explains a problem in exchange for a piece of somewhat schoolyard-esque advice from the other, Joe was explaining a current situation in his dating life. Without getting into any specifics, I do want to bring up one very interesting conclusion we came to, which involves the culture into which Joe was born and raised.

Joe, having been surrounded by Lebanese culture for his entire life, is used to living within a high context community. Context of a culture is the level of underlying circumstances that give forms of communication varying meaning depending on a situation. High context cultures tend to exist where people are very communal and/or have deep cultural roots that are not easily understood by outsiders, such as in Arabic, Asian or African societies. Basically, in these cultures a simple phrase, like, "How are you doing today?" can carry more weight to it than just being a direct question.

Countries such as the United States, on the other hand, are home to low context cultures. Low context societies are less communal and have less entrenched and more diverse cultural roots within them. The phrase, "How are you doing today?" will most likely be taken as a simple question in these parts of the world. Joe's girlfriend is from the Chicago suburbs, so she is part of an extremely low context society.

The differences in Joe and his girlfriend's cultural contexts is a possible reason they may have some trouble communicating at times. When she says something to Joe, it is possible that he is going to overthink it and let the "lost" meaning stress him out. When Joe says something to her, she may not fully understand what he means. This is just something that will have to be worked out over time, but it will definitely make for more fun nights of sitting around the hookah and talking.

I wonder if any of my readers have ever had any experiences like this? Do you think you come from a more or less contextual society? Community? Family? Also, since this is a blog for a marketing class, what do you think are some good ways to overcome possiblle contextual differences when marketing or conducting business internationally?

Hook-ah Me Up, Joe!

This has been a pretty busy week. I needed a little down time tonight after getting back from work. One of the best ways to blow off some steam is to blow off some smoke...no, not that smoke...I'm talking about a good hookah (hoo-kuh) session! I'm sure plenty of my readers have smoked some hookah at some point in their life, but for those who haven't (by the way, you're missing out), let me explain a little bit about this Middle Eastern practice.

Joe is so excited!!!
Pictured with roommate Zach Berg.

A hookah, or the device used to smoke a moist form of tobacco known as sheesha (shee-shuh), is a tall, slender pipe. The sheesha rests in a ceramic bowl on top of the pipe, with coals placed on top of the bowl. The pipe then leads down to a water jar, which filters the smoke as it is drawn down through the device. About halfway up the pipe are openings for air flow and for attaching hoses, from which the tobacco is inhaled by the smoker.

A hookah pipe, set up and ready to smoke!

Sheesha comes in a wide array of flavors. I have tried many, including mango, raspberry lemonade and Irish coffee. The flavors are strong (in comparison to other forms of tobacco) and make hookah smoking a very enjoyable experience. Also, because of the water filter, the smoke is much cooler than other forms of tobacco, giving it a less harsh feeling. Tonight, we smoked a sheesha called Sweet Drop, which had an intense menthol flavor over a less prominent fruity one.

The coals glow red hot
when air/smoke is inhaled through one of the hoses

Smoking with Joe and I tonight was Zach Berg, a fellow Bradley student and one of Joe's roommates. Hookah is gaining a lot of popularity with American college students and has become a recreational alternative to smoking other substances or drinking. Hookah leaves smokers with a slight head rush and an overall calm and relaxed feeling. It contains a minute amount of niccotine, but is considered non-addictive. I should note that hookah is not known as a safer alternative to other forms of tobacco, but it's health effects are not well understood. You can check out the Wikipedia page on hookah to learn more about the practice and its origins: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hookah.

Finally, I'll leave my readers with a couple videos from Joe, Zach and me's hookah experience:

Joe calls me "The Dragon."

I call him "The Ring Master."

There Ain't Nothin' Like a Home-Cooked Meal

Joe and I went to Seth's parents' house to eat last Thursday. It was the second time I have been invited over there for a meal, and, both times, I came away having eating a delicious meal. Seth's mom is a great Lebanese chef, and I couldn't wait to see what new foods I was going to get to try!

That evening was one of the first actually chilly ones of the fall season, much to my relief after such a hot summer, and the air was full of autumn mist. Thankfully, the house warm and comfortable with the heat from the oven, and the Alwan family was as welcoming as always. Eating with us were Seth's brother, George's, family and Gabe.

Pan of shawarma, with tahini and
pita bread on the side.

Once a prayer was said, we sat down to a table full of intruiging dishes. The first thing I put on my plate, shawarma (shuh-wore-muh), was actually familiar to me. I had it the last time I ate at the Alwans',  in the summer of 2011. It is a dish that consists of shavings of meat (in this case, beef) that are plated, topped with tahini sauce, and then picked up with a piece of pita bread to be eaten.

The next dish I tasted was also familiar. It was kibbeh (ki-beh), which is beef that is rolled into a ball with grain and onion, kind of like a meatball. As I've said, I have had kibbeh before, but the first time I had it it was raw. This time it had been cooked. Either way, kibbeh is a very hearty, tasty food.

Rolled, cooked kibbeh.

The final dish I had was one that was totally new to me. It was shishbarak (shish-ba-rek), a ravioli-like pasta stuffed with meat and spices, served in a yogurt sauce. We ate it like a soup, and it was the perfect food for such a cool day! After learning that Seth's mom hadn't made it in about a year, I totally understood why his family was so excited to have it for dinner.

A large, steaming pot of shishbarak.

Leave the Newtons for nursing homes.

After the meal was done, and I was ready to just go lay down and digest, Seth's mom brought out a tray of brownies. While I was too full to even consider dessert, I did take Seth up on trying a fig out of his dad's garden. I had never had a fresh fig before, only in Newton form, and they were not on my list of favorite fruits. That totally changed, however, once I ate this one. The flavor was bright at summery, with a perfect blend of sweet and tangy. Whatever Nabisco uses in there cookies tastes nothing like what I had popped into my mouth.

Once dinner was over, Seth, Joe, Gabe and I hung out in the basement for a while, watching Netflix and trying not to fall asleep from our full stomachs. After Joe made us watch Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, a shoddily-made Writers' Strike-era Neil Patrick Harris show, I knew it was time to go before I wasn't going to be able to get up. 

Joe and I said bye to Gabe, who was leaving for home in Baltimore the next day, and thanked the Alwans when we got back upstairs. It had been such a relaxing evening, and I was grateful for the non-Bradley meal. It's times like that when I really appreciate family and really appreciate the Lebanese sense of the term. To people like the Alwans, family is everything!

Seth, his brother's family, Joe, Gabe and me after dinner.

You Want Hummus With That?

One of the best ways I have discovered Lebanese culture and influence in Peoria is by eating at Lebanese/Mediterranean restaurants. There are a number of them in the area, but on Tuesday I ventured to Pita's Mediterranean Wraps (http://www.facebook.com/pitasmedwraps), which is located on Knoxville Ave. I was joined by Seth, his cousin, Gabe, and Seth's nephew, Anthony (Benson). 

This blog is not affiliated with the GOP.

Pictured left to right: Seth, Benson and Gabe

After walking through the doorway and being greeted with the warm, spice-filled air created by the ovens, the next piece of authenticity that stood out was the set of beautiful Mediterranean landscape murals covering the walls. Walking towards the counter to get a better look at the marquee-style menu only sealed the promise that this trip was going to be worth it.

Gazing upon the items listed, I found myself having a bit of trouble making a decision. The collage of American and Mediterranean selections all seemed as though they could satisfy any amount of hunger (mine was pretty large), but I knew I had come to sample something other than what can be found at any McDonald's or Pizza Hut. By the time it was my turn to order, I had decided on an order of falafel (fuh-lah-ful), a roll of za'atar (zah-tar) bread, one beef pie, and one lamb pie.

After we had all ordered, we took our drinks to a booth and visited as we waited for our food to be brought to us. It was a great time for me to get to know Gabe, who has been visiting from Baltimore, and congratulate Benson on getting his drivers license. 

Seth waiting for his food.

Benson is one of Seth's brother,
George's, four kids. Gabe's dad is the brother
of Seth's mom.

Our food was quickly delivered by one of the co-owners of the restaurant, Rose. She and her sister, along with members of their families, recently took over management, and Seth says the food has never been better. I was able to talk to her for a few minutes, during which I learned all the made-to-order meals are homemade with fresh ingreadients on a daily basis. 

You can see the baked spices inside
the rolled flatbread.

This was immediately proven when I took my first bite of za'atar bread. Za'atar is a piece of flatbread that is covered in a mixture of spices and seasonings (this mix is za'atar) and then baked to amplify the flavor. It can be eaten flat like a pizza, or it can be rolled up and enjoyed like a wrap. Either way, the za'atar made at Pita's was delicious!

Once I finished the bread, I moved on to the falafel, which is made when balls of groud fava beans and/or chickpeas are deep-fried. Mine were served on a bed of lettuce and olive oil, with a tahini (tuh-hee-nee) sauce on the side. Tahini is made with hulled sesame seeds that are ground into a paste.

The falafel was definitely my favorite
part of the meal. So good!

Beef or lamb?
Only the first bite will tell.

Finally getting to the meat pies, I had a hard time discerning the one with beef from the one with lamb, because both were identical from the outside. I took my best guess as I lifted the first one to my mouth. It was beef, moist and savory. 

Finishing that one and knowing my remaining option, I took my first bite of the lamb pie. It also tasted great, but the flavor was gamier (shoutout to Andrew Zimmern from Bizzare Foods) and had a bit more spice to it. I have not eaten lamb often, but this recipe made me feel as though I might be in the  future. Both of the pies were delicious and were well worth their $1.50 price from the specials menu!

As we neared the end of our meal, Gabe, who had gone to the counter for some more ketchup, came back with four pieces of baklava (bock-lah-vah), which Rose had given to us as a kind gesture. Baklava is a dessert made of layers of pastry and chopped nuts, which is sweetened with honey. It was the perfect ending to such a satifying and exciting meal!

Delicious!

The first piece was so good, I had to take
home a couple more in a doggie bag!

Overall, this was an awesome trip to an excellent restaurant! Rose and her employees were extremely kind and generous, making feel as though we were eating supper in their home kitchen. I would recommend to everyone that they should go to Pita's Mediterranean Wraps at least once (though I'm sure that number would increase after the first visit), and that they should take advantage of places like this, wherever they live, so that they can try something new and add some za'atar to their life!

Me and Rose

Don't Let Tayta Hear You Say That

Last week I went to Joe's parents' Cedars Pita Bakery, which I'll share more about another time, but where I ate lunch with some of Joe's family. The food was great (again, I'll share more in a different post), but like other times when I have been a guest at a Lebanese-American function, I found myself quickly lost in the conversation. Silently, I listened to the family members visit cheerfully in either of their two native languages. Portuguese, for those from Brazil, or Arabic, the official language of Lebanon.

Usually, in these types of situations, I just look at whoever's talking, as if I can clearly understand what their saying, and respond accordingly with what everyone else in the discussion is doing. If they smile, I smile. If they laugh, I give a hearty chuckle. If the group gives any sign of disapproval, I frown and shake my head. I know I must look like a fool to everyone else, especially when I misjudge the tone of the conversation, but it helps me at least feel like I'm part of it.

Sometimes, when Portuguese is the dominant linguistic choice, I can pick up a handful of words and phrases. This is due to the fact that Portuguese is a Romance language (based on Latin) and shares many roots with English.

Arabic, on the other hand, is an entirely different beast to conquer. Known by many as one of the hardest languages for English-speakers to learn, Arabic is a Central Semitic language, related to Hebrew, Aramaic and Phoenician. Basically, many of the sounds and words of Arabic are nothing like what most of the Western world is used to speaking. Joe has even said that he was once told that many Arabic sounds can only be formed by muscles in the throat that are usually used during vomiting.

Gross facts aside, Arabic is a very complex language, the written form of which is even more difficult to master. Joe can only speak Arabic, while Seth and other second-generation relatives can write only a limited amount.  To make things even more challenging, Arabic is read from right to left, instead of left to right like English.

Back to my story, though...

As I sat in the back of the bakery, listening to the seemingly chaotic conversations, the chatter was suddenly halted. Joe and Seth's grandmother, referred to by the traditional Arabic moniker Tayta (tie-tuh), had started scolding Joe's mom. While I wasn't sure if this was a joke or not (which I later found out it was), I had reached a point in the afternoon when I just had to know what was going on. These are the moments when I ask Joe or Seth the painfully ignorant question, "What did [he/she] say???"

"Taboosh," Joe replied.

"Huh?"

"Taboosh. It's what we might call 'idiot' or 'moron.' Tayta hates it when we use that word. She yelled at me about saying it when I was little, so when my mom just called me it, I told on her to Tayta!" he laughed.

While the humor of the situation was somewhat lost with me as I tried to store this newly-learned swear word in my brain, I did come to appreciate the lesson learned on this day: even in a language as complex as Arabic, one bad word is enough to tick off a friends' grandmother.

Seth & Joe or: How I Learned to Stop Being So White and Love the Baba Ganoush

Wisconsin. A land flowing with milk and beer, where "hey der" is the typical morning greeting, and where it is more fashionable to be pasty white than it is to be tan. The home state of Bernie Brewer, Bucky the Badger, and Scoopie (Culver's reference) also happens to be my own stomping grounds, but what's so great about the state is also one of it's flaws. The culture is so enveloping, it makes it difficult to learn about anyone else's!

When I stepped foot on campus at Bradley University, way back in 2008, I was just another pale-skinned, "O"-hanging Cheesehead, with no great sense of the world beyond the Stateline. I needed to learn, and that's exactly what I started doing. I met more people of ethnically diverse backgrounds in one week at school than I probably had previously in my entire life. Jewish. Chinese. Puerto Rican. Indian. These are just some of the cultures and ethnicities I started getting exposed to.

It wasn't until my sophomore year, though, that I was introduced to another, less-known cultural background: Lebanese American. With a fairly large population in Peoria, people of Lebanese nationality and descent have come to play a significant role in the community, and their way of life can be witnessed through many area businesses and institutions. Luckily, however, I have received a deeper induction than most people, through the help of a couple of great friends, Seth and Joe Alwan.

Seth and Joe are cousins whose immediate families are residents of Peoria but also have many relatives living in Lebanon, Brazil, and other parts of the world. Both Seth and Joe are members of the same fraternity as me, Pi Kappa Phi, and both have been more than eager to share their family's broad and fascinating culture with me over the past few years. Through the connection I have with them I have eaten a dish made with raw meat, watched anise-flavored liquor be made (and helped sample), brushed up on my Arabic, and met many incredible people!

Pictured left to right: Seth, Joe and me in Galesburg, IL, at a family gathering, Fall 2011.

For the rest of my time at Bradley (1 semester) I will be logging some of my experiences with my two friends and their families, which have proved to be some of the most memorable I have had in college. I will refer to them (as I have already done many times) as "guides," while I try to communicate to my readers my growing knowledge of Lebanese culture. While it is Joe's mother's goal to introduce me to a nice Lebanese woman (fingers crossed because a lot of them are extremely attractive), it is my goal to simply go back to Wisconsin with an understanding of something other than how cheese is made!