This past summer I went to visit my home country Lebanon. I was reunited with my parents who live there, my sister and sister-in-law and their children from Australia, my cousin from Venezuela whom I haven’t seen since before I immigrated to the States, two other cousins who lived in France and many, many cousins aunts and relatives who still live there. You may wonder; how come we are scattered all over the world? Because of the civil war that destroyed the country for over 20 years; many of us left Lebanon to study or to escape the war or to just make a decent living. Unfortunately the struggle still goes on and many of us choose to live outside the country. We are all very proud of our home country, we love to go back there whenever we can and most of us have someone who is financially dependent on them and still lives there. We have as many people living in the country as in other countries and that's what keeps it going.
Like many old cultures family and friends gather around the kitchen, around food, drink and good fun. AND, whoever happens to stop by is always welcome; there is plenty for everyone…. I come from a big family, my mother had eight sisters, all very good cooks with distinctive styles; they were taught by my grandmother; a wonderful traditional cook who insisted that her daughters be prepared to be good wives and mothers. When they got married they all brought to their new lives a generosity that my grandmother was famous for and the love to learn more creations. Their dinners were famous, with an underlying sibling rivalry that urged them to outdo each other. My mother and two of her sisters lived in the same building so they would help each other when a dinner party that any of them hosted. I remember the days and days that went into preparation. There should be a number of appetizers, lamb or beef, chicken and fish are a must, side dishes to go with the protein dishes and of course, many, many deserts. When we were children my mother and aunts did not want us around when they prepared for those dinners but as we got older we were taught how to help……It seems garnishing the platters was my assignment until I proved myself, then I was promoted into chopping or assembling mini pizzas and pastries or forming desserts and cookies. Some of us cousins had the talent, the patience and the willingness to help and some of us chose be the observers or just the tasters..…
Going back to this past summer……..We would get together the aunts, the cousins, the husbands and the children usually on Sundays…It doesn’t matter where we were, the feeling was the same, our mothers usually are the most active ones, the middle generation (myself, sister and cousins) would be helping our mom’s, the twenty something generation (my nieces) or the men would prepare the drinks, the cousins with the younger children and their house helpers would be tending to children. Always prepared for a late lunch or an early dinner and all who would be around. The house would be bustling with laughter, glasses clinking and kitchen sounds. A Discussion of whether we were to eat together is unimportant; it’s part of getting together. Most of the times, we would take something with us whether it is an ingredient to make something, fruit, drink or a dessert. It really doesn’t matter if you do or don’t there is always lots of leftovers.
Now how does Rola come into the picture?? Rola is my cousin, one of the late arrivals, or the end of the grape cluster as we say. She is two cousins younger, about six to eight years apart from me. She and her family used to live on the fifth floor while we lived on the third floor in the same building in a sleepy town called Aley. We lived there most our lives before the internal and external migrations. Aley was warmer than our hometown Karnayel, its schools were better and closer to Beirut, the capital, where our fathers worked. Summers were spent in Karnayel with another set of cousins. After the Israeli invasion in 1983 we all had to leave the happy life that we knew until then and moved to Beirut; Aley was cut off Beirut and Karnayel. We had to follow our schools, colleges or jobs. My family and my aunts’ families rented furnished apartments in Beirut, it was liberated by then, within a couple of miles radius. Everything changed after that year, life became very different and more isolated. I was in college, Rola was in her teens and life had created a bigger space between us. It wasn’t until I went back to Lebanon for my first visit after being in The United States for over seven years that I reconnected with Rola, at that time she had slowed down, graduated from college, got married to her husband Nabil and expecting her first daughter Lynn. I found her to be smart, lighthearted, a joy to be around and as beautiful as ever. We bonded right away as we got to spend a lot of time with the rest of the family. By this summer Rola has become a VP of a big company with a second daughter Leah. We spent fun times hanging out in Karnayel or antiquing in Beirut. Rola would bring gorgeous cakes with her, it was her contribution to our dinners. One time during my nieces’ Farah’s birthday we gave credit to everyone who contributed a dish or two to the party .The credit went to Rola for her cake although she wasn’t there. We shared the credits with Rola on her next visit and it became our family’s inside joke. She was a good sport about it, you see Rola does not bake, and she rarely cooks. Why would she do it if she can have very delicious food at her mom’s everyday….. My mother and her sisters are den mothers who like their children and grandchildren to be around all the time. The contribution goes both ways, all three generations benefit from it one way is different. The exchenge flow is continuous. .
We had a lot of fun joking about Rola’s cakes and she would initiate many times….The jokes kept coming with every cake she brought…. Nabil would invite us over promising that Rola would butcher a can of sardine for dinner…..
Like many old cultures family and friends gather around the kitchen, around food, drink and good fun. AND, whoever happens to stop by is always welcome; there is plenty for everyone…. I come from a big family, my mother had eight sisters, all very good cooks with distinctive styles; they were taught by my grandmother; a wonderful traditional cook who insisted that her daughters be prepared to be good wives and mothers. When they got married they all brought to their new lives a generosity that my grandmother was famous for and the love to learn more creations. Their dinners were famous, with an underlying sibling rivalry that urged them to outdo each other. My mother and two of her sisters lived in the same building so they would help each other when a dinner party that any of them hosted. I remember the days and days that went into preparation. There should be a number of appetizers, lamb or beef, chicken and fish are a must, side dishes to go with the protein dishes and of course, many, many deserts. When we were children my mother and aunts did not want us around when they prepared for those dinners but as we got older we were taught how to help……It seems garnishing the platters was my assignment until I proved myself, then I was promoted into chopping or assembling mini pizzas and pastries or forming desserts and cookies. Some of us cousins had the talent, the patience and the willingness to help and some of us chose be the observers or just the tasters..…
Going back to this past summer……..We would get together the aunts, the cousins, the husbands and the children usually on Sundays…It doesn’t matter where we were, the feeling was the same, our mothers usually are the most active ones, the middle generation (myself, sister and cousins) would be helping our mom’s, the twenty something generation (my nieces) or the men would prepare the drinks, the cousins with the younger children and their house helpers would be tending to children. Always prepared for a late lunch or an early dinner and all who would be around. The house would be bustling with laughter, glasses clinking and kitchen sounds. A Discussion of whether we were to eat together is unimportant; it’s part of getting together. Most of the times, we would take something with us whether it is an ingredient to make something, fruit, drink or a dessert. It really doesn’t matter if you do or don’t there is always lots of leftovers.
Now how does Rola come into the picture?? Rola is my cousin, one of the late arrivals, or the end of the grape cluster as we say. She is two cousins younger, about six to eight years apart from me. She and her family used to live on the fifth floor while we lived on the third floor in the same building in a sleepy town called Aley. We lived there most our lives before the internal and external migrations. Aley was warmer than our hometown Karnayel, its schools were better and closer to Beirut, the capital, where our fathers worked. Summers were spent in Karnayel with another set of cousins. After the Israeli invasion in 1983 we all had to leave the happy life that we knew until then and moved to Beirut; Aley was cut off Beirut and Karnayel. We had to follow our schools, colleges or jobs. My family and my aunts’ families rented furnished apartments in Beirut, it was liberated by then, within a couple of miles radius. Everything changed after that year, life became very different and more isolated. I was in college, Rola was in her teens and life had created a bigger space between us. It wasn’t until I went back to Lebanon for my first visit after being in The United States for over seven years that I reconnected with Rola, at that time she had slowed down, graduated from college, got married to her husband Nabil and expecting her first daughter Lynn. I found her to be smart, lighthearted, a joy to be around and as beautiful as ever. We bonded right away as we got to spend a lot of time with the rest of the family. By this summer Rola has become a VP of a big company with a second daughter Leah. We spent fun times hanging out in Karnayel or antiquing in Beirut. Rola would bring gorgeous cakes with her, it was her contribution to our dinners. One time during my nieces’ Farah’s birthday we gave credit to everyone who contributed a dish or two to the party .The credit went to Rola for her cake although she wasn’t there. We shared the credits with Rola on her next visit and it became our family’s inside joke. She was a good sport about it, you see Rola does not bake, and she rarely cooks. Why would she do it if she can have very delicious food at her mom’s everyday….. My mother and her sisters are den mothers who like their children and grandchildren to be around all the time. The contribution goes both ways, all three generations benefit from it one way is different. The exchenge flow is continuous. .
We had a lot of fun joking about Rola’s cakes and she would initiate many times….The jokes kept coming with every cake she brought…. Nabil would invite us over promising that Rola would butcher a can of sardine for dinner…..
Rola says that I inherited all the creative cooking genes from the family and did not leave anything for her!!!! What an excuse Rola???? A few weeks ago she asked me to post some summer pictures on Face book I did and posted photos of her famous. Then she asked me to write a story about those cakes and that’s how this story came about.
Here’s to you Rola, to a lovely family, wonderful times and delicious cakes…..
Here’s to you Rola, to a lovely family, wonderful times and delicious cakes…..
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