Poem: "Influenced Throughout History"
Sep. 28th, 2022 05:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis poem came out of the August 2, 2022 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from dialecticdreamer, helgatwb, and rix_scaedu. It also fills the "Epic" square in my 8-1-22 card for the Reel Time Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with ng_moonmoth. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.
Warning: This poem contains graphic descriptions of delicious Egyptian food that you may not be able to find or make.
"Influenced Throughout History"
[Thursday, March 31, 2016]
"Hey, Shiv, my family is holding
a buffet feast this Saturday,
up in Oregon," said Zipper.
"Would you like to come?"
It caught Shiv by surprise,
as invitations generally did,
even though this was at least
the fourth or fifth time that
Zipper had asked him.
"I dunno, I'm not great
with crowds. Or families.
Or social stuff," said Shiv.
"If you need something cut,
though, that's different."
"I'm sure my mother
would be happy with
another kitchen helper."
Zipper made puppy eyes.
"Come on, it's Egyptian. You
love Middle Eastern food."
"Welllll ..." Shiv said. It was
true, though. Zipper had
even introduced him to that
Syrian Foods truck in Rutledge,
which was pretty awesome.
"We're making butterfly fish,"
Zipper wheedled. "I think
you'd really enjoy that.
"... okay, you got me,"
Shiv said, laughing.
"If you really are offering
to help in the kitchen, then
I can pick you up right
after lunch," said Zipper."
"Yeah, I'd like that,"
Shiv said. He did
better at parties if
he had something
to focus on other
than all the people.
Besides, he was curious
about Egyptian food.
"Then I'll see you
tomorrow after lunch,"
Zipper promised him.
[Saturday, April 2, 2016]
Zipper's family home in Oregon
was beautiful and also huge.
Water from the morning rain
dripped from the tall trees,
spruces and hemlocks in shades
of blue-green and gray-green,
dark shadows in the foggy air.
The house was built into the side of
a hill, so you could walk in the front door
onto the main level, then go downstairs
and walk out the basement to the yard.
It had a deck-porch-thing wrapping around
part of the house, with a wide staircase
that wound down and out of sight.
Shiv could hear the boom of waves
and smell saltwater, so there must be
a beach down there somewhere too.
Inside, the living room looked out
onto the deck, its windows covered
with curtains instead of Venetian blinds,
leaving the sliding doors exposed.
The furniture looked like mostly cherry,
though some might have been mahogany.
The cushions and blankets were all done
in deep jewel tones of ruby, sapphire,
amethyst, amber, and emerald.
Above the fireplace, the mantle
held a pair of dainty lanterns carved
from wood with fanciful latticework.
One wall was almost completely
covered by family photographs.
Shiv looked away. Pictures
still weren't entirely comfortable
for him, given how he'd grown up.
"The main level of the house has
most of the common spaces,"
Zipper explained, waving a hand
at the living room. "If you need quiet,
there's a den among the bedrooms
upstairs. My room is downstairs
along with a workshop and a gym,
so I can come and go without
the sound bothering anyone."
"Nice layout," Shiv said as he
turned to look around the place.
It was big enough to make him
feel slightly out of place, but he
had gotten used to the Finn house
along with Tolli and Simon's place,
so this wasn't hopelessly awkward.
An older woman came over to them,
drying her hands on a dish towel.
She had Zipper's dark eyes, but
her black curls were threaded with
silver and her brown skin was
spiderwebbed with fine wrinkles.
Zipper gave a shallow bow.
"Shiv, I'd like you to meet
my mother Zinat. Mother,
this is my friend Shiv."
"Finally," Zinat said,
smiling at Shiv. She
looked like she wanted
to hug him to bits, but didn't.
"So uh ... hi," said Shiv. "I
figured I could, uh, help cook."
His fingers were itching to get into
the kitchen, because Zipper hadn't
let him bring anything, dammit,
and now his hands felt empty.
Zinat's smile turned dazzling.
"Of course!" she said, beckoning.
"Come into the kitchen here."
Shiv followed her, then
stopped and stared.
"Hooooly smoke."
The kitchen was
freaking humongous.
Shiv had never seen
anything quite like it.
Black granite countertops
and cherry cabinets stood out
against the pale green walls.
There was enough counter space
for at least half a dozen people.
"We bought fresh fish and
a few other things for supper,
but let's see what we can find
in the pantry," said Zinat.
The wide space between
the two archways -- one to
the living room, the other to
the dining room -- held a set of
floor-to-ceiling pantry cupboards
with multiple cherrywood doors.
As Zinat opened the doors, Shiv
could see all sorts of clever baskets
and turntables and shelves inside.
Some of the higher shelves even
seemed to be pull-out drawers.
Glass jars held dried beans and
peas, different shapes of pasta,
and several varieties of rice.
In the baskets lay potatoes,
onions, garlic, and other roots.
The whole inside of one door
was a spice rack crammed with
glass bottles and metal tins.
Zinat picked up two baskets
from a stack on a shelf, then
passed one of them to Shiv.
"Here, hold this," she said,
arranging spice jars inside it.
She filled her own basket with
rice, beans, and other things.
"That's a lot of food," Shiv said.
"What's all this for? Kofta?"
"I don’t know how much
you already know about food
in Egypt, but what I can tell you
is that there’s a whole lot more to it
than shwarma and kofta," said Zinat.
"Like what?" Shiv said, already curious.
Shwarma and kofta were about all
he had encountered before now.
"Dig a little deeper and you are bound
to discover a food culture that has
been influenced throughout history,
going all the way back to ancient Egypt,"
said Zinat. "Today, I will tell you everything
you need to know about Egyptian food."
"I am all ears," Shiv said. "Is it much
like Syrian food? 'Cause I love that."
"Many favorite foods have spread around
the Mediterranean Sea, sometimes known
as Levantine cuisine," said Zinat. "Egypt
has Libya to the west, Sudan to the south,
Israel to the east, and across the Red Sea
lies Saudi Arabia. Jordan and Syria are
nearby. North across the Mediterranean
are Cyprus, Turkey, and Greece."
"Wow, that's a lot," said Shiv.
He'd seen maps, yeah, but
he hadn't really studied them.
Maybe he should get on that.
"And they have similar foods?"
"That's right, because many
of the same things grow around
the Mediterranean Sea," said Zinat.
"You know hummus and baklava, yes?"
"Oh yeah, I love those," said Shiv.
"So, hummus comes from chickpeas,
which are widely grown," said Zinat.
"Baklava uses honey and nuts, but
not always the same kind of nuts."
"That makes sense," said Shiv.
He had seen Kardal put out
different shapes of baklava,
and more flavors of hummus
than Shiv could even count.
"We have chickpeas and
olive oil," Zinat said, adding
those to Shiv's basket. "And
we're running out of room."
Shiv looked down at
his heaping basket.
"This is gonna be epic,"
he said with a grin.
"That's the idea,"
Zinat agreed.
The kitchen had
been divided into
multiple workstations.
"This is your space today,"
Zinat said as she pushed
Shiv to a counter, where she
put out a huge cutting mat.
"Knives --" She dragged
a whole block over to him.
"-- and spice tools." She
added spoons and bowls.
"Works for me," Shiv said.
"What are we doing first?"
"Hummus, with za'atar
and some other topping,"
said Zinat. She picked up
the chickpeas and handed
Shiv a head of garlic. "You
mince two cloves for me, and
I'll start processing these."
That was familiar enough.
With deft strokes, Shiv
peeled two cloves and
started mincing them.
A blender growled.
Zinat puttered around,
adding this and that.
"Garlic's all minced,"
Shiv said, pointing.
"Dump that in here,"
Zinat instructed.
Shiv scooped
the minced garlic
onto a scraper and
added it to the blender.
Zinat whirred everything
together again, then stopped
and offered Shiv a spoon.
"Taste this and tell me
what you think," she said.
Shiv licked the spoon. It was
creamy and delicious, a lot
like what Kardal made, and
way better than storebought.
"Yeah, this is great stuff."
"Next, let's make za'atar
to put on top," said Zinat.
"Za'atar?" Shiv said. "Don't
you have a bottle of that?"
Zipper carried one around,
more often than not; Shiv
had seen him whip it out.
"Of course we do, but it
tastes better made fresh,"
said Zinat. "Many things do."
"Okay, good point," said Shiv.
"So how do we make that stuff?"
Zinat listed the ingredients
and their amounts while Shiv
measured them into a bowl.
"Put the cumin and coriander
in a separate bowl," Zinat said
as she pulled out as skillet.
"Then pour those in here."
Shiv brought the whole spices
and put them in the skillet.
"Cook until they smell strong,
spicy, not so long they smell
burned," Zinat said, waving
a hand over the tiny seeds.
Shiv caught just a whiff
of faint, grassy odor -- then
rather suddenly a burst
of something peppery.
"Done," Zinat declared,
expertly flipping the spices
into a mortar, where she used
a pestle to pulverize them.
"That goes on the hummus?"
Shiv said as he watched her.
"This goes on the olive oil,
on the hummus," said Zinat.
When she finished grinding
the cumin and coriander, she
poured them into the other spices.
"Now we toast the sesame seeds,"
said Zinat, measuring them into
the skillet. "Here, keep this moving
while I set up the hummus dishes."
"I got this," Shiv said, taking the skillet.
Zinat spread a thick layer of hummus
into two round shallow bowls. "Make
a well with the back of a spoon," she said,
scooping it into a hollow. "Then fill that
with olive oil -- don't just drizzle it."
She must have poured at least a cup
of deep, green-gold olive oil in there.
"I think these are done?" Shiv said,
watching the sesame seeds suspiciously.
Zinat glanced at them. "One more minute,"
she said. "They should be golden, not
white or brown." She shook her head.
"The ones on buns are almost raw."
When the sesame seeds turned
golden, they went into the spice bowl,
then everything got stirred together.
"Now you take a handful of za'atar and
layer it over the olive oil," said Zinat.
"You have such tiny hands! For you,
big handful, don't be stingy with it."
Shiv could hardly see the olive oil
under the thick layer of spices.
"Abioud! Hummus!" Zinat called,
holding out the first bowl of it.
Zipper hurried into the kitchen
and took the bowl from her, found
a bag of whole wheat pita bread,
then went back to the great room.
"The second bowl, we make it
a little different," said Zinat. "What
do you think we should do next?"
"Me?" Shiv squeaked. "I can't
cook Egyptian, I just started!"
She clucked her tongue at him.
"You're doing fine," said Zinat.
"What vegetables do you like?"
Shiv racked his brain, trying
to think what might go with
hummus, or better, what he'd
seen Kardal put out with it.
"Crunchy ones, juicy ones,
like chopped salad?" Shiv said.
"Ah! Salata Baladi," said Zinat.
She brought out a cucumber,
a tomato, a bell pepper, and
a red onion. "Dice these. I
will prepare the seasonings."
Well, that was familiar enough.
Shiv rinsed the vegetables,
then started cutting them.
Zinat watched his hands
dancing the knife over
the vegetables as he
diced them into bits.
"Are you a chef?"
she asked him.
"Oh, heck no,"
Shiv said, laughing.
"I work at Blues Moon,
it's a jazz joint. We
got a kitchen in back."
"That sounds like
a nice place," she said.
"Yeah, it is," Shiv agreed.
"I do the bargain shopping at
farmer's markets, and sometimes
I help in the kitchen instead of
just waiting tables out front."
When he finished dicing
all the vegetables into
tidy little cubes, Zinat
tossed them in a bowl
with chopped parsley,
then added a vinaigrette.
"That looks like way more
than will fit on the hummus,"
Shiv said with a frown.
"One scoop goes here,"
Zinat said as she heaped
some of the hummus,
"and the rest goes in
the refrigerator for later."
She put away the extra,
then brought out pita bread
so they could have hummus.
It was really good topped
with fresh crunchy vegetables.
Shiv adored the extra zip from
the onion; Kardal's didn't have any.
He didn't want to spoil his supper,
though, so he reluctantly quit eating
when they'd gone through about
a quarter of the hummus.
"Let's set up the fish next,"
said Zinat. "Sengari Fish needs
to sit a while before cooking."
She put Shiv to mincing garlic
while she butterflied the fish.
"Oh, this old thing," she grumbled.
"Knife's dull," Shiv said without
looking up from his garlic. "Gimme
a second to finish this and I'll fix it."
Zinat rinsed the knife and set it
beside Shiv's workstation.
He scraped up the garlic,
then turned to the fillet knife.
"The sharpening tools are
in that drawer," she said.
Shiv gave her a rakish grin.
"I don't need 'em," he said,
stroking his fingers along
the blade. "Superpowers."
He offered her the hilt. "Be
careful, it's really sharp now."
"Thank you very much,"
Zinat said as she took it.
Shiv was listening closely,
so he heard the happy sound
she made under her breath as
the knife went through the fish.
Yeah, that was definitely worth
all the time he put in learning how
to make metal super-strong
and still leave it flexible.
Zinat put him to dicing
more vegetables -- tomato,
bell pepper, onion, and carrot.
She mixed them with spices,
spread them over several fish,
then put the fish in the fridge.
New voices rose and fell in
the great room, some sounding
higher and others lower.
Zinat noticed Shiv listening.
"Would you like to go out
and meet more people?"
she asked. "It's fine."
Shiv shook his head.
"D'ruther stick with you."
"Then let's get started on
the Sayadeya," said Zinat.
"It uses fish and rice, which
can be made many ways,
together or separately. I make
it like a pilaf, mixed together."
Well, that sounded scrumptious.
Shiv was fascinated to see
that the rice was flavored
not with tomatoes, but with
a heap of caramelized onions.
Cooked fish was flaked and
mixed with the rice, then packed
into fluted earthenware pots
that went into the oven to bake.
The air was so fragrant with
all the cooking smells that
it made Shiv's mouth water.
He snitched a few more bits of
pita and hummus to hold off
his appetite until supper.
More voices nearby told
him that new people had
arrived, most of them doing
party things in the great room,
but some of them came to help.
Most of the other folks filtering
through the kitchen were women.
The only other guys that Shiv saw
were a sulky tween boy washing dishes
and a middle-aged man who collected
a big foil pan of lamb chops that he
took outdoors to grill on the deck.
Well, and Zipper, who flitted
back and forth taking things from
the kitchen to the sideboard, but
he wasn't working in the kitchen.
Shiv was currently cutting
vegetables into julienne sticks
to go with more hummus.
One woman was making
hummus with carrots and
another with mashed beets.
A third was rinsing canned okra
to cook some sort of stew.
None of them crowded
Shiv's workstation, though,
so everything was fine.
As soon as he finished
the vegetable sticks,
Zinat said, "Help me
make the basbousa."
That turned out to be
some kind of cake thing,
but all you had to do was
dump stuff in a bowl and
then pat it into a pan.
"Kinda reminds me
of making shortbread,"
Shiv said as he pressed
the dough into place.
Once they got that
in the oven, there was
a fruit salad to assemble.
"Heyyyy, how come he
gets in the kitchen?"
someone whined.
"Because Shiv offered
to help Ama cook, not loaf
around like some people
I could name," said Zipper.
"When you can show that
you'll do the work, and not
run off to play video games,
then you'll get a turn too."
A smartphone turned off
with a sudden chirp.
"Thank you," said Zipper.
"Come help set the table."
More whining, now from
several younger relatives.
Shiv snickered. "Is there
something special about
working in the kitchen?"
"Most days, not particularly,
but on feast days I make
family recipes," said Zinat.
"Who watches, learns."
"Ohhh," Shiv said on
a note of enlightenment.
"Then thanks for sharing."
"Thank you for volunteering
to help," Zinat said. "Abioud
told me you offered right away."
"Yeah, I don't really ... know what
to do with myself at a house party,"
Shiv muttered. "Cooking, I get."
Zinat patted his shoulder. "You'll
do just fine," she assured him.
When the basbousa came out
of the oven, she soaked it with
sweet syrup, then pointed Shiv
to an array of dried flowers,
nuts, and other toppings.
"Decorate this any way
you want," said Zinat.
"Here are some images
if you want inspiration."
She handed him a flyer
from some bakery that
showed pretty patterns.
There were rings and
stripes and something
almost like a mandala.
Shiv had a different idea.
He used candied rose petals
to reconstruct a flower on top,
then dusted the whole thing
with toasted coconut shreds
that looked like pollen.
"Oh, my goodness!"
said Zinat. "Beautiful."
She stashed it in the fridge
for the flavors to merge.
"Can we eat yet?"
one of the kids said.
Zinat looked around
the kitchen. "Soon!"
she called, then turned
to Shiv. "Go wash up.
Bathroom is that way."
Shiv scurried into
the bathroom and
took a quick leak.
He tried to brush off
the flour that he'd gotten
all over himself somehow,
then washed his hands.
When he came back,
the table was all set and
the sideboard was covered
in dishes of fragrant food,
with more passed around
the table hand to hand.
Zipper ushered Shiv
into a chair. "Did you
have fun cooking?"
"Yeah, your mom is
awesome," Shiv said.
Zipper smiled, the corners
of his eyes crinkling. "I'm
happy to hear that," he said.
Shiv got himself a piece of
butterfly fish as well as some
of the fish-and-rice thing.
Both tasted delicious,
but the butterfly fish
was totally different than
anything Shiv had before,
while the rice dish was
a lot like a fish pilaf.
He only meant to take
one of the lamb chops,
to leave room for more fish,
but that was so meltingly good
that he couldn't resist a second.
The okra stew tasted nothing like
gumbo, but it was good too.
Curiosity piqued, Shiv
tried a little of everything,
even stuff he wouldn't
normally have touched.
He didn't like everything
as much as the fish, but
it was all interesting to try.
Even the weird beet hummus
that left his fingertips and
probably tongue stained pink.
By the time Zinat brought out
the basbousa, Shiv had
surreptitiously used
his superpower to undo
the button of his pants.
People oohed and ahhed
over the rose petal topping.
"We had an artist in the house,
so I took advantage," Zinat said,
waving her hand at Shiv, and
people actually applauded.
The cake was so soft
that it melted in his mouth,
tasting mostly of coconut
and just a little of flowers.
Shiv was so stuffed that
when it came time to clear
the table, he didn't manage
to lumber to his feet before
Zipper said, "You cooked,
you don't clean up too.
Sit and enjoy yourself."
So Shiv drifted into
the living room while
the older children
emptied the table.
Floor cushions dotted
the area, but he was
pretty sure if he got
down there, he wasn't
getting back up again.
Instead Shiv tucked himself
into the corner of a couch.
Nobody crowded too close,
and he realized that, despite
parties being iffy at best,
this one was kinda cool.
Zinat took what was clearly
her favorite chair, and that
made the younger children
swarm around her feet,
begging for stories.
Zipper sat down on
the far end of the couch
from Shiv, carefully leaving
an empty space between them.
"So, has today been worth
the trip?" Zipper asked.
Shiv took a deep breath
of air still spiced from supper,
watched the children wriggle
their way toward stillness as
Zinat began her story, and
snuggled into the couch.
"Yeah," Shiv said. "It
was totally worth it. Thanks
for inviting me here ... again."
"You're worth it too,"
Zipper murmured.
Maybe that was true.
Even though he was
influenced by history,
Shiv was finding
ways to be happy.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear elsewhere.
dialecticdreamer, helgatwb, and rix_scaedu. It also fills the "Epic" square in my 8-1-22 card for the Reel Time Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with ng_moonmoth. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.Warning: This poem contains graphic descriptions of delicious Egyptian food that you may not be able to find or make.
"Influenced Throughout History"
[Thursday, March 31, 2016]
"Hey, Shiv, my family is holding
a buffet feast this Saturday,
up in Oregon," said Zipper.
"Would you like to come?"
It caught Shiv by surprise,
as invitations generally did,
even though this was at least
the fourth or fifth time that
Zipper had asked him.
"I dunno, I'm not great
with crowds. Or families.
Or social stuff," said Shiv.
"If you need something cut,
though, that's different."
"I'm sure my mother
would be happy with
another kitchen helper."
Zipper made puppy eyes.
"Come on, it's Egyptian. You
love Middle Eastern food."
"Welllll ..." Shiv said. It was
true, though. Zipper had
even introduced him to that
Syrian Foods truck in Rutledge,
which was pretty awesome.
"We're making butterfly fish,"
Zipper wheedled. "I think
you'd really enjoy that.
"... okay, you got me,"
Shiv said, laughing.
"If you really are offering
to help in the kitchen, then
I can pick you up right
after lunch," said Zipper."
"Yeah, I'd like that,"
Shiv said. He did
better at parties if
he had something
to focus on other
than all the people.
Besides, he was curious
about Egyptian food.
"Then I'll see you
tomorrow after lunch,"
Zipper promised him.
[Saturday, April 2, 2016]
Zipper's family home in Oregon
was beautiful and also huge.
Water from the morning rain
dripped from the tall trees,
spruces and hemlocks in shades
of blue-green and gray-green,
dark shadows in the foggy air.
The house was built into the side of
a hill, so you could walk in the front door
onto the main level, then go downstairs
and walk out the basement to the yard.
It had a deck-porch-thing wrapping around
part of the house, with a wide staircase
that wound down and out of sight.
Shiv could hear the boom of waves
and smell saltwater, so there must be
a beach down there somewhere too.
Inside, the living room looked out
onto the deck, its windows covered
with curtains instead of Venetian blinds,
leaving the sliding doors exposed.
The furniture looked like mostly cherry,
though some might have been mahogany.
The cushions and blankets were all done
in deep jewel tones of ruby, sapphire,
amethyst, amber, and emerald.
Above the fireplace, the mantle
held a pair of dainty lanterns carved
from wood with fanciful latticework.
One wall was almost completely
covered by family photographs.
Shiv looked away. Pictures
still weren't entirely comfortable
for him, given how he'd grown up.
"The main level of the house has
most of the common spaces,"
Zipper explained, waving a hand
at the living room. "If you need quiet,
there's a den among the bedrooms
upstairs. My room is downstairs
along with a workshop and a gym,
so I can come and go without
the sound bothering anyone."
"Nice layout," Shiv said as he
turned to look around the place.
It was big enough to make him
feel slightly out of place, but he
had gotten used to the Finn house
along with Tolli and Simon's place,
so this wasn't hopelessly awkward.
An older woman came over to them,
drying her hands on a dish towel.
She had Zipper's dark eyes, but
her black curls were threaded with
silver and her brown skin was
spiderwebbed with fine wrinkles.
Zipper gave a shallow bow.
"Shiv, I'd like you to meet
my mother Zinat. Mother,
this is my friend Shiv."
"Finally," Zinat said,
smiling at Shiv. She
looked like she wanted
to hug him to bits, but didn't.
"So uh ... hi," said Shiv. "I
figured I could, uh, help cook."
His fingers were itching to get into
the kitchen, because Zipper hadn't
let him bring anything, dammit,
and now his hands felt empty.
Zinat's smile turned dazzling.
"Of course!" she said, beckoning.
"Come into the kitchen here."
Shiv followed her, then
stopped and stared.
"Hooooly smoke."
The kitchen was
freaking humongous.
Shiv had never seen
anything quite like it.
Black granite countertops
and cherry cabinets stood out
against the pale green walls.
There was enough counter space
for at least half a dozen people.
"We bought fresh fish and
a few other things for supper,
but let's see what we can find
in the pantry," said Zinat.
The wide space between
the two archways -- one to
the living room, the other to
the dining room -- held a set of
floor-to-ceiling pantry cupboards
with multiple cherrywood doors.
As Zinat opened the doors, Shiv
could see all sorts of clever baskets
and turntables and shelves inside.
Some of the higher shelves even
seemed to be pull-out drawers.
Glass jars held dried beans and
peas, different shapes of pasta,
and several varieties of rice.
In the baskets lay potatoes,
onions, garlic, and other roots.
The whole inside of one door
was a spice rack crammed with
glass bottles and metal tins.
Zinat picked up two baskets
from a stack on a shelf, then
passed one of them to Shiv.
"Here, hold this," she said,
arranging spice jars inside it.
She filled her own basket with
rice, beans, and other things.
"That's a lot of food," Shiv said.
"What's all this for? Kofta?"
"I don’t know how much
you already know about food
in Egypt, but what I can tell you
is that there’s a whole lot more to it
than shwarma and kofta," said Zinat.
"Like what?" Shiv said, already curious.
Shwarma and kofta were about all
he had encountered before now.
"Dig a little deeper and you are bound
to discover a food culture that has
been influenced throughout history,
going all the way back to ancient Egypt,"
said Zinat. "Today, I will tell you everything
you need to know about Egyptian food."
"I am all ears," Shiv said. "Is it much
like Syrian food? 'Cause I love that."
"Many favorite foods have spread around
the Mediterranean Sea, sometimes known
as Levantine cuisine," said Zinat. "Egypt
has Libya to the west, Sudan to the south,
Israel to the east, and across the Red Sea
lies Saudi Arabia. Jordan and Syria are
nearby. North across the Mediterranean
are Cyprus, Turkey, and Greece."
"Wow, that's a lot," said Shiv.
He'd seen maps, yeah, but
he hadn't really studied them.
Maybe he should get on that.
"And they have similar foods?"
"That's right, because many
of the same things grow around
the Mediterranean Sea," said Zinat.
"You know hummus and baklava, yes?"
"Oh yeah, I love those," said Shiv.
"So, hummus comes from chickpeas,
which are widely grown," said Zinat.
"Baklava uses honey and nuts, but
not always the same kind of nuts."
"That makes sense," said Shiv.
He had seen Kardal put out
different shapes of baklava,
and more flavors of hummus
than Shiv could even count.
"We have chickpeas and
olive oil," Zinat said, adding
those to Shiv's basket. "And
we're running out of room."
Shiv looked down at
his heaping basket.
"This is gonna be epic,"
he said with a grin.
"That's the idea,"
Zinat agreed.
The kitchen had
been divided into
multiple workstations.
"This is your space today,"
Zinat said as she pushed
Shiv to a counter, where she
put out a huge cutting mat.
"Knives --" She dragged
a whole block over to him.
"-- and spice tools." She
added spoons and bowls.
"Works for me," Shiv said.
"What are we doing first?"
"Hummus, with za'atar
and some other topping,"
said Zinat. She picked up
the chickpeas and handed
Shiv a head of garlic. "You
mince two cloves for me, and
I'll start processing these."
That was familiar enough.
With deft strokes, Shiv
peeled two cloves and
started mincing them.
A blender growled.
Zinat puttered around,
adding this and that.
"Garlic's all minced,"
Shiv said, pointing.
"Dump that in here,"
Zinat instructed.
Shiv scooped
the minced garlic
onto a scraper and
added it to the blender.
Zinat whirred everything
together again, then stopped
and offered Shiv a spoon.
"Taste this and tell me
what you think," she said.
Shiv licked the spoon. It was
creamy and delicious, a lot
like what Kardal made, and
way better than storebought.
"Yeah, this is great stuff."
"Next, let's make za'atar
to put on top," said Zinat.
"Za'atar?" Shiv said. "Don't
you have a bottle of that?"
Zipper carried one around,
more often than not; Shiv
had seen him whip it out.
"Of course we do, but it
tastes better made fresh,"
said Zinat. "Many things do."
"Okay, good point," said Shiv.
"So how do we make that stuff?"
Zinat listed the ingredients
and their amounts while Shiv
measured them into a bowl.
"Put the cumin and coriander
in a separate bowl," Zinat said
as she pulled out as skillet.
"Then pour those in here."
Shiv brought the whole spices
and put them in the skillet.
"Cook until they smell strong,
spicy, not so long they smell
burned," Zinat said, waving
a hand over the tiny seeds.
Shiv caught just a whiff
of faint, grassy odor -- then
rather suddenly a burst
of something peppery.
"Done," Zinat declared,
expertly flipping the spices
into a mortar, where she used
a pestle to pulverize them.
"That goes on the hummus?"
Shiv said as he watched her.
"This goes on the olive oil,
on the hummus," said Zinat.
When she finished grinding
the cumin and coriander, she
poured them into the other spices.
"Now we toast the sesame seeds,"
said Zinat, measuring them into
the skillet. "Here, keep this moving
while I set up the hummus dishes."
"I got this," Shiv said, taking the skillet.
Zinat spread a thick layer of hummus
into two round shallow bowls. "Make
a well with the back of a spoon," she said,
scooping it into a hollow. "Then fill that
with olive oil -- don't just drizzle it."
She must have poured at least a cup
of deep, green-gold olive oil in there.
"I think these are done?" Shiv said,
watching the sesame seeds suspiciously.
Zinat glanced at them. "One more minute,"
she said. "They should be golden, not
white or brown." She shook her head.
"The ones on buns are almost raw."
When the sesame seeds turned
golden, they went into the spice bowl,
then everything got stirred together.
"Now you take a handful of za'atar and
layer it over the olive oil," said Zinat.
"You have such tiny hands! For you,
big handful, don't be stingy with it."
Shiv could hardly see the olive oil
under the thick layer of spices.
"Abioud! Hummus!" Zinat called,
holding out the first bowl of it.
Zipper hurried into the kitchen
and took the bowl from her, found
a bag of whole wheat pita bread,
then went back to the great room.
"The second bowl, we make it
a little different," said Zinat. "What
do you think we should do next?"
"Me?" Shiv squeaked. "I can't
cook Egyptian, I just started!"
She clucked her tongue at him.
"You're doing fine," said Zinat.
"What vegetables do you like?"
Shiv racked his brain, trying
to think what might go with
hummus, or better, what he'd
seen Kardal put out with it.
"Crunchy ones, juicy ones,
like chopped salad?" Shiv said.
"Ah! Salata Baladi," said Zinat.
She brought out a cucumber,
a tomato, a bell pepper, and
a red onion. "Dice these. I
will prepare the seasonings."
Well, that was familiar enough.
Shiv rinsed the vegetables,
then started cutting them.
Zinat watched his hands
dancing the knife over
the vegetables as he
diced them into bits.
"Are you a chef?"
she asked him.
"Oh, heck no,"
Shiv said, laughing.
"I work at Blues Moon,
it's a jazz joint. We
got a kitchen in back."
"That sounds like
a nice place," she said.
"Yeah, it is," Shiv agreed.
"I do the bargain shopping at
farmer's markets, and sometimes
I help in the kitchen instead of
just waiting tables out front."
When he finished dicing
all the vegetables into
tidy little cubes, Zinat
tossed them in a bowl
with chopped parsley,
then added a vinaigrette.
"That looks like way more
than will fit on the hummus,"
Shiv said with a frown.
"One scoop goes here,"
Zinat said as she heaped
some of the hummus,
"and the rest goes in
the refrigerator for later."
She put away the extra,
then brought out pita bread
so they could have hummus.
It was really good topped
with fresh crunchy vegetables.
Shiv adored the extra zip from
the onion; Kardal's didn't have any.
He didn't want to spoil his supper,
though, so he reluctantly quit eating
when they'd gone through about
a quarter of the hummus.
"Let's set up the fish next,"
said Zinat. "Sengari Fish needs
to sit a while before cooking."
She put Shiv to mincing garlic
while she butterflied the fish.
"Oh, this old thing," she grumbled.
"Knife's dull," Shiv said without
looking up from his garlic. "Gimme
a second to finish this and I'll fix it."
Zinat rinsed the knife and set it
beside Shiv's workstation.
He scraped up the garlic,
then turned to the fillet knife.
"The sharpening tools are
in that drawer," she said.
Shiv gave her a rakish grin.
"I don't need 'em," he said,
stroking his fingers along
the blade. "Superpowers."
He offered her the hilt. "Be
careful, it's really sharp now."
"Thank you very much,"
Zinat said as she took it.
Shiv was listening closely,
so he heard the happy sound
she made under her breath as
the knife went through the fish.
Yeah, that was definitely worth
all the time he put in learning how
to make metal super-strong
and still leave it flexible.
Zinat put him to dicing
more vegetables -- tomato,
bell pepper, onion, and carrot.
She mixed them with spices,
spread them over several fish,
then put the fish in the fridge.
New voices rose and fell in
the great room, some sounding
higher and others lower.
Zinat noticed Shiv listening.
"Would you like to go out
and meet more people?"
she asked. "It's fine."
Shiv shook his head.
"D'ruther stick with you."
"Then let's get started on
the Sayadeya," said Zinat.
"It uses fish and rice, which
can be made many ways,
together or separately. I make
it like a pilaf, mixed together."
Well, that sounded scrumptious.
Shiv was fascinated to see
that the rice was flavored
not with tomatoes, but with
a heap of caramelized onions.
Cooked fish was flaked and
mixed with the rice, then packed
into fluted earthenware pots
that went into the oven to bake.
The air was so fragrant with
all the cooking smells that
it made Shiv's mouth water.
He snitched a few more bits of
pita and hummus to hold off
his appetite until supper.
More voices nearby told
him that new people had
arrived, most of them doing
party things in the great room,
but some of them came to help.
Most of the other folks filtering
through the kitchen were women.
The only other guys that Shiv saw
were a sulky tween boy washing dishes
and a middle-aged man who collected
a big foil pan of lamb chops that he
took outdoors to grill on the deck.
Well, and Zipper, who flitted
back and forth taking things from
the kitchen to the sideboard, but
he wasn't working in the kitchen.
Shiv was currently cutting
vegetables into julienne sticks
to go with more hummus.
One woman was making
hummus with carrots and
another with mashed beets.
A third was rinsing canned okra
to cook some sort of stew.
None of them crowded
Shiv's workstation, though,
so everything was fine.
As soon as he finished
the vegetable sticks,
Zinat said, "Help me
make the basbousa."
That turned out to be
some kind of cake thing,
but all you had to do was
dump stuff in a bowl and
then pat it into a pan.
"Kinda reminds me
of making shortbread,"
Shiv said as he pressed
the dough into place.
Once they got that
in the oven, there was
a fruit salad to assemble.
"Heyyyy, how come he
gets in the kitchen?"
someone whined.
"Because Shiv offered
to help Ama cook, not loaf
around like some people
I could name," said Zipper.
"When you can show that
you'll do the work, and not
run off to play video games,
then you'll get a turn too."
A smartphone turned off
with a sudden chirp.
"Thank you," said Zipper.
"Come help set the table."
More whining, now from
several younger relatives.
Shiv snickered. "Is there
something special about
working in the kitchen?"
"Most days, not particularly,
but on feast days I make
family recipes," said Zinat.
"Who watches, learns."
"Ohhh," Shiv said on
a note of enlightenment.
"Then thanks for sharing."
"Thank you for volunteering
to help," Zinat said. "Abioud
told me you offered right away."
"Yeah, I don't really ... know what
to do with myself at a house party,"
Shiv muttered. "Cooking, I get."
Zinat patted his shoulder. "You'll
do just fine," she assured him.
When the basbousa came out
of the oven, she soaked it with
sweet syrup, then pointed Shiv
to an array of dried flowers,
nuts, and other toppings.
"Decorate this any way
you want," said Zinat.
"Here are some images
if you want inspiration."
She handed him a flyer
from some bakery that
showed pretty patterns.
There were rings and
stripes and something
almost like a mandala.
Shiv had a different idea.
He used candied rose petals
to reconstruct a flower on top,
then dusted the whole thing
with toasted coconut shreds
that looked like pollen.
"Oh, my goodness!"
said Zinat. "Beautiful."
She stashed it in the fridge
for the flavors to merge.
"Can we eat yet?"
one of the kids said.
Zinat looked around
the kitchen. "Soon!"
she called, then turned
to Shiv. "Go wash up.
Bathroom is that way."
Shiv scurried into
the bathroom and
took a quick leak.
He tried to brush off
the flour that he'd gotten
all over himself somehow,
then washed his hands.
When he came back,
the table was all set and
the sideboard was covered
in dishes of fragrant food,
with more passed around
the table hand to hand.
Zipper ushered Shiv
into a chair. "Did you
have fun cooking?"
"Yeah, your mom is
awesome," Shiv said.
Zipper smiled, the corners
of his eyes crinkling. "I'm
happy to hear that," he said.
Shiv got himself a piece of
butterfly fish as well as some
of the fish-and-rice thing.
Both tasted delicious,
but the butterfly fish
was totally different than
anything Shiv had before,
while the rice dish was
a lot like a fish pilaf.
He only meant to take
one of the lamb chops,
to leave room for more fish,
but that was so meltingly good
that he couldn't resist a second.
The okra stew tasted nothing like
gumbo, but it was good too.
Curiosity piqued, Shiv
tried a little of everything,
even stuff he wouldn't
normally have touched.
He didn't like everything
as much as the fish, but
it was all interesting to try.
Even the weird beet hummus
that left his fingertips and
probably tongue stained pink.
By the time Zinat brought out
the basbousa, Shiv had
surreptitiously used
his superpower to undo
the button of his pants.
People oohed and ahhed
over the rose petal topping.
"We had an artist in the house,
so I took advantage," Zinat said,
waving her hand at Shiv, and
people actually applauded.
The cake was so soft
that it melted in his mouth,
tasting mostly of coconut
and just a little of flowers.
Shiv was so stuffed that
when it came time to clear
the table, he didn't manage
to lumber to his feet before
Zipper said, "You cooked,
you don't clean up too.
Sit and enjoy yourself."
So Shiv drifted into
the living room while
the older children
emptied the table.
Floor cushions dotted
the area, but he was
pretty sure if he got
down there, he wasn't
getting back up again.
Instead Shiv tucked himself
into the corner of a couch.
Nobody crowded too close,
and he realized that, despite
parties being iffy at best,
this one was kinda cool.
Zinat took what was clearly
her favorite chair, and that
made the younger children
swarm around her feet,
begging for stories.
Zipper sat down on
the far end of the couch
from Shiv, carefully leaving
an empty space between them.
"So, has today been worth
the trip?" Zipper asked.
Shiv took a deep breath
of air still spiced from supper,
watched the children wriggle
their way toward stillness as
Zinat began her story, and
snuggled into the couch.
"Yeah," Shiv said. "It
was totally worth it. Thanks
for inviting me here ... again."
"You're worth it too,"
Zipper murmured.
Maybe that was true.
Even though he was
influenced by history,
Shiv was finding
ways to be happy.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes appear elsewhere.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-09-29 05:35 am (UTC)Yay!
Date: 2022-09-29 09:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-09-29 06:26 am (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2022-09-29 07:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-09-29 11:14 pm (UTC)It's really nice to see Shiv happy.
Also, I've had basbousa and yesssss.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-09-30 06:18 am (UTC)That damned alley cat's gone and made himself some *FRIENDS!*
Thoughts
Date: 2022-09-30 06:35 am (UTC)That and the fact they're willing to let him work in the kitchen instead of insisting that he sit in the living room and "socialize."
>> That damned alley cat's gone and made himself some *FRIENDS!* <<
It may take him a little while to remember that. He'll probably figure it out when Zipper brings a sack lunch for himself and Shiv for some outing.
Re: Thoughts
Date: 2022-10-01 01:21 am (UTC)And I'll bet Shiv is very entertaining when he tries to socialize. Not in a "make fun of the weirdo" way, just being himself. Shiv can be very charming sometimes - there's a sweetness to some of the things he does. (Is Zipper trying to start a relationship with Shiv? )
I can imagine Zipper getting his talented mom to pack a picnic for him and Shiv. She seems to like him, since he sharpened all her knives for her :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2022-10-30 12:49 pm (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2022-10-31 09:53 am (UTC)Re: Thank you!
Date: 2024-07-18 03:13 am (UTC)