I made this recipe more than a year ago.
I haven’t shared recipes on the blog all the way from July 2019 to May 1st 2020. Things that kept me away ranged from getting sick to full on clown rehearsals followed by the trip and performances in Barcelona as part of a HUGE festival, then getting back home to the major instability starting from October till now.
I made and shot many recipes, prepared them and stored them away on a piece of paper or in my brain or on my hard drive. I know that at some point, I’ll share them, and here is one from the archives that deserves to see the light.
This post might sound melancholic.
I want us, through this post, to go back in time when things seemed more “normal” on the surface. Continue reading →
I’ve had crates over crates of different citrus fruits that I could lay my hands on.
It is fascinating how life gives us these fruits on the days we need them the most; gloomy, grey, dark, and rainy. Nature gives us these colorful fruits hanging from brown and green trees with leaves glistening with winter rain waiting to be harvested.
The colors fascinate me. I would only like the gloomy rainy days when I don’t make any plans and stay in bed. Or when it stops raining at the moment I’m stepping out of the house. The sight of bitter oranges on the branches of the line of trees in Monot street makes my day. It makes me dance with joy when now in March, those branches carry small yellowish white buds instead of the fruits and the scent of orange blossom fills the streets with a beautiful fragrance that covers up the recent smell of trash that is occasionally looming over Beirut.
I remember one time walking out of Hamra street, a once vibrant street in Beirut, during the last days of winter and seeing a vendor with styrofoam boxes overflowing with lump-like things held together with clear tape.
The first time I saw these sandy-stone-like produce I thought they were the world prized truffles with the amazing flavor and the unique aroma. I made risotto and shaved* some of those on top. I even buried one in a jar of short grain rice to fragrance it for risotto.
*shaved, more like crumbled it on the box grater’s slicer side only to get grains of sand later with every bite because I didn’t clean them well
Only later did I learn that these truffles are not the same thing.
These beautiful spores are called Desert Truffles. They are harvested not using dogs or pigs like western truffles but by roaming the desert landscapes (not desert dunes, but bare lands with rare vegetation) looking for bumps and cracks in the land. They dig their hands down and pull out the sand hoping there’s a something worthy in there.
Here we are again. Meeting over a recipe. I’m behind a screen drooling over a dish I prepared some time ago between the past two weeks and five years.
I will be using, though, some recipes I shot in the past few year, and in love with, yet I never shared. But I will try to get this “blogger” thing going by shooting, editing, writing, AND publishing as soon as possible.