Dear reader,
This might seem like a change from my eating habits, but for the past two weeks, I haven’t been able to chew.
I got my wisdom teeth removed, which meant I was in soft food jail. Literally jail, by the way. Every meal was a conflict between what I wanted to eat and what I could actually chew and swallow. My diet was a rotation of labneh, hummus, karishe, jello, and the blandest rice drowned in laban that my mom kept making for me. I’m convinced she secretly enjoyed it. I think it made her nostalgic of when I was a baby and she’d feed me spoonfuls of mush while I sat there completely helpless.
To be fair, I had it better than others. My face didn’t swell up like a pufferfish, and the pain was manageable. But it was still a real count-your-blessings moment when I realized how much I missed the simple joy of chewing. It’s like losing your taste buds when you get COVID, if anyone remembers.
After never-ending days of soft, quiet, beige food, I was yearning for a crunch. I was craving a salad, a bag of chips, a hard piece of kaak, or anything that makes a sound when you bite into it. So to stay sane, I spent my recovery doing the most useless thing possible. I stared at recipes I couldn’t eat.
At the very top of my post-op list are Alan Geaam’s Feta-mint sambousseks, Salim Azzam’s mana’eesh, and Jaimee Lee Haddad’s tacos.
I might need a few practice bites before I remember how chewing works, but if you see me eating a bucket of broasted chicken with tears in my eyes, just know that they’ll be tears of joy.
Melissa Manouchakian
Distribution editor
Our recipies:
Cooking with children : Patricia Bakalian and her son’s Japanese milk bread
For the Bakalians, bread has been a family affair since 1908. Four generations have carried the story from Bakalian Flour Mills to Bakelab Academy and Bakelab Counter in Mar Mikhael, and this Japanese milk bread recipe is another way of bringing that legacy to the table.
Iconic
As part of our Iconic series*, we trace the story of Gandour, a local company that has turned its biscuits and chocolates into a cherished part of Lebanon’s culinary heritage.
Restaurants and more
In Antelias, father-daughter duo Bashar and Ruby Krikor invested $550,000 in The Morons, a 90-seat restaurant where food, cocktails and music take equal billing. Despite opening in the low season, they aim to recoup their investment within two years.
