So, a family business opens in Lebanon in 1935. A falafel shop. Falafel M.Sahyoun. They make amazing falafel sandwiches. Everyone loves them.
Decades, wars, highs, and lows come and go. The shop runs on…
Then, two or three years ago, the brothers who inherited the family business decide they can’t get along and would rather part ways. The Lebanese solution? One opens a new falafel shop right next door to the original.
Literally, right next door. Continue Reading…
You know you’re in for an authentic meal when the chef hails from the village responsible for the recipes. And you know you’re in for an authentic cooking lesson when the teacher is feisty and not afraid to swat your hand.
Enter: Georgina Bayeh, a woman from northern Lebanon willing to share an evening (and a few jabs) with three Oregonians and friend from New York eager to learn the secrets of Lebanese cooking. Like a maestro, she set the tempo for the evening, coaxing notes from her students, leading a pitch-perfect performance. By the end of the night, we reveled in a feast of traditional kebbeh batata, moutabbal, goat-meat kebbeh, and tabbouleh and wore the smiles of proud chefs.
Ted especially. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
At the recommendation of our hostess, Jodi, we’d been led to a beautiful spot: TawLet Souk el Tayeb – an open kitchen in Beirut serving meals, hosting cooking lessons taught by local village cooks and chefs, celebrating wholesome, authentic, traditional foods from surrounding regions. Though we found ourselves breathing hot city air in a taxi 6813.5 miles from home, we stepped out minutes later and entered an oasis of calm with cool light and colorful produce, and it felt like a fresh breeze had blown straight from foodie heaven in Southeast Portland. Continue Reading…
“Unfinished business. Loose ends. Broken sidewalks.” Notes scribbled in my little Moleskine notebook, under the heading “Chaos Is.”
Welcome to Beirut.
The rallying point at Martyr’s Square; The Grand Mosque behind.
“Lebanon?” people would ask as eyebrows lifted and the telltale hint of concern or excitement danced around the word.
Depending on the inquisitor’s level of comfort with the notion of visiting the Middle East, they’d press for more logic behind the decision to add a place of such turmoil and challenge to our itinerary.
“Why Lebanon?”
The short answer: my college roommate (one of the most true and level headed women I’m blessed to know), Jodi, has been living and working in Beirut the past few years and invited us to pay a visit if her address fit into our route.
The medium answer: Ted and I were both curious about the truth behind the hazy, sandy, stark and scary, mysterious and misunderstood reputation of the Middle East and both wanted to experience a piece of that world for ourselves. And, um, truthfully: we’ve eaten so many meals at Ya Hala in our Montavilla, Portland neighborhood that we literally salivated at the thought of family-style meals of Lebanese mezze in its true place of origin.
After three weeks of new friends, banned books, challenging conversations, shared meals, glasses of Lebanese wine and bottles of local brew, hours of leisure on calm seashores, miles walking chaotic city blocks, lectures at the base of buildings bearing bruises and wounds of war, visits to lush urban oases and book stores and cinemas and veggie markets, after all this, we should be able to answer the question:
“What did you think of Lebanon?” Continue Reading…
Touchdown, Beirut. Three weeks. Memories and impressions, new friends, new lessons, new adventures. Old ruins, old scars, old themes…
I’ve found myself struggling to put words to time, stewing over posts, stringing words and sorting photos. Here’s a preview in the meantime…a little taste of our life in Lebanon.
Twenty-two moments as seen through my busted but trusty iPhone lens: Continue Reading…
Bosnia, Kosovo, and Cyprus: so quick were the introductions and goodbyes that we barely had time (or light) to press the button on the camera. In contrast to entire months spent in Argentina, Italy, and now South Africa, we had minimal time, mere moments really, to take in scenes and impressions and make memories.
Our three sum total pictures from Bosnia appear in the Choose Your Own Eastern European Adventure post. Kosovo passed underneath our semi-sleeping bodies during an overnight bus ride to Macedonia. Moon lit landscapes and haunting scenes filtered through a dirty window, but those pictures burned into memory live completely off the digital radar. Shutter speeds and camera shake could not be overcome on that bumpy road. Ted briefly stepped off the bus in Kosovo during a midnight stretch break, but I had the camera packed and he didn’t want to wake me.
Our couple-hour trip to Cyprus came courtesy of an overnight layover on the way to Lebanon.
The only photographic evidence? iPhone shots from the tarmac and a hazy nighttime shot by lamplight. And a one-for-the-memories fuzzy picture of a janitor in the airport.
We boarded the late-afternoon plane from Thessaloniki planning to simply spend the night in the airport but while airborne hashed out a plan to land and go through customs for an evening out on the island. Continue Reading…
Speaking of being on a landscape architecture kick…
This morning, I’m sitting in my makeshift office on site at Carmel by the Sea, working on a master plan for the 58 year old holiday and conference center on the shores of the Indian Ocean in South Africa. (No, you haven’t missed anything. The blog is country or two backlogged: I have stores from Lebanon to share before shifting hemispheres again…)
But I was too giddy to resist sharing today’s landscape architecture thrill: recently released blueprints for redevelopment of the Christchurch Central Business District in New Zealand.
CG animation of Christchurch, New Zealand produced by Animation Research Ltd. for CERA (the Canterbury Earthquake Recovery Authority), CCDU (the Christchurch Central Development Unit), the Christchurch City Council and Te Rūnanga o Ngāi Tahu.
Eight years ago, I moved to Christchurch, New Zealand for five months. The short season was long enough to forever change me. I fell head over heels for the country and its people. Continue Reading…
Pardon me while I nerd out for a moment. I love being a landscape architect, and I love encountering places around the world where people are truly using and enjoying outdoor space.
And I love learning.
That would be me – loving the oh-so-comfy benches on Thessaloniki’s First Pier
Ahead of our one-day visit to Thessaloniki, Greece, I didn’t read up or investigate. I peeked at a map of the city when booking accommodations and otherwise walked in blind, so perhaps it was the absence of expectation or perhaps the atmosphere of pre-sunset light?
Whatever the case, when Ted and I walked down to the waterfront after dinner, I was absolutely enchanted by the First Pier of the Thessaloniki Port. It’s a little slice of urban paradise projecting out into the harbor, and I joyfully sat in the sunshine, people-watching and observing a successful night in the life of public open space. Continue Reading…
Shameful it seemed, booking a single night in Thessaloniki, flying out the following day, relegating a city of history and significance to barely more than a transit stop.
How could one day do it justice?
We’d spent time in Greece before; my mom’s an educator who leads students on academic tours overseas, and Ted and I each chaperoned on occasion, visiting historically significant sites like Delphi, the Lion’s Gate at Mycenae, the amphitheater at Epidaurus, the Acropolis, and charming islands off the Peloponnese.
Too, my great-grandpa Xenophone Tringas immigrated to the United States near the turn of the 20th century, and I’d accompanied extended family members in 2006 to visit his little village of Istiaia on the Greek Island of Evia.
Memories of table wine lasting far into the night…of tangling my feet in the left-right-lefts of Greek dance…of finding my favorite silver and moonstone worry beads in a little shop on Hydra and my chunky amber necklace on a neighboring isle…of stepping foot with grandparents, parents, brothers, and cousins on the same front porch that my great-grandpa knew as a boy…these memories all nagged my spirit: “No, 24 hours will seem shallow by comparison. There’s not enough time to appreciate the place or make worthwhile memories that will live up to the past.”
Wrong again. Continue Reading…
Favorite travel experiences: finding cheap and delicious food in unexpected places.
There we were, spending currencies void of English characters, enjoying the payoff after scrimping and saving at home to afford meals of whimsy in oddball settings on foreign soil. (Well, foreign asphalt on a side street in the concrete-jungle of Skopje, Macedonia.) Yes, we’ve been blessed with the opportunity to savor Michelin Star meals on our travels, but sometimes we find the most satisfaction in feast from a hole in the wall kitchen with a menu of foreign letters and surprisingly wallet-friendly numbers.
Ted left a 1,000 bill to cover the tab…and received 500 in change. I’ll spare you the trip to xe.com to figure out the exchange rate between US dollars and the Macedonian denar.
The total cost for drinks and a filling lunch for two: $10.06. Including tip. Continue Reading…
Short post today; instead of paragraphs of text, you’ll receive a visual tour of Skopje, Macedonia’s crazy construction sites, sculptures, and public buses that would make you think you’ve woken up in Wee Britain. Continue Reading…