Saturday, February 17, 2007

The city of my heart ...













the people of my heart















and mloukhiyyeh ...





19 comments:

gitanes legeres said...

.......
we will...only if we want to..
a big hug..

AM said...

I LOVED this post :)

achinar said...

:) ykhallilik yeha ya rab

Lirun said...

siti makes meluhia every friday for us..

in the summer she spends countless nights destalking the leaves and rinsing them and drying them on cloth in the pantry..

grinding them to a mince 2 days later and then freezing packets for the winter so we can enjoy it all year round..

we make it with turkey and chicken.. we break dark bread into it and drop in spoonfulls of homemade shatta..

it is the one dish that brings my entire family together..

Fadi said...

.. indeed, home is where the heart is..

For some reason, it reminds me of a poem by Saiid Akel:
.. from the little country we roam the earth..
.. in every spot we spread our villages..
.. we defy the world peoples and countries..
.. and build wherever we want.. A Lebanon

Our country is but a dream, a heart beat, a scent, a tune, and a night full of love... 10452 are but a window pane...Our home is metaphysical, beyond borders, beyond oceans.

Take good care of yourself, and mitil ma wada3ti tla2i.

Mirvat said...

big hug from me too gitanes
thanks am
achinar we ykhallilik your family :)
lirun, we made mlukhiyya with packaged leaves that we found here in an arabic supermarket and it tasted nothing like the leaves they carefully dry back home.
Fadi, how you've been? lovely words..

Maya@NYC said...

beautiful mirvat and so tender... maybe islands only find peace in love: of parents, countries, lovers or children...

Anonymous said...

It is true that we are islands in this life, our destiny is to try to build bridges....Humans invented ceelphones, emails and even weblogs to try to build virtual bridges, but seems not enough to have peace; so continue looking for the pieces for they are the building blocks of your real bridges...

Sasmen said...

sahtayn :)

Lirun said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Lirun said...

isnt that funny.. that while we're busy "arguing" our mothers and grandmothers mirror each other as they peacefully and gently separate leaves (as they have done for generations) to make sure we have that savoury syropy spinach looking soul drenching soup..

in pure anticipation of our sounds of content when we have that first slurp..

:)

FZ said...

beautiful, mirvat... my mother does that too (leaving notes around) but with little sketches, it is heartbreaking sometimes

Ibn Bint Jbeil said...

happy mommy to you.

blogger fan said...

something has happened to our blogger friend transient--go and look--go and look--sound the alarm--sound the alarm

transient said...

Nostalgic dreams of favored cityscapes and loved ones, damn Mirvat, you sure do know how to tug the heart strings. Hope it never ends.

and mloukhiah is not spinach.

_z. said...

mirvat... it's been a while. missed reading and commenting here.
this is a super sweet post.
very DELICATE!

allah ykhallilik yeha ya rabb.

PS:
I hate mouloukhiyye :(

Lirun said...

transient.. heheh

ana aref..

but i described it as spinachy for those who have never had or seen any..

i should probably add for those people that it also doesnt have the same bitterness.. its slightly tangier..

dude.. i have grown up on the soup..

z: you hurt me with your words hehe

Mone said...

Hey welcome back ya 7elou :)

Anonymous said...

I am touched... I have been living in london for 3 years now and I know how it feels to be far, to be haunted by desire and nostalgia.