Friday, September 23, 2011

What I Miss Here

Authentic ethnic food.

Finger-licking good takes on new meaning in the presence of a noodle bowl of steamed greens and beef; a fiery plate of peppered chicken and peanuts; thick yogurt drizzled with fine olive oil and slathered on hot pita; shrimp swimming with lemongrass in a gingery coconut; melt-in-the-mouth-pork blackened and dripping with barbeque sauce; feathery flakiness of redfish and tomato; crack and snap of red shell revealing plump lobster meat; and powdered-sugar-dusted lumps of heavenly butter cookie.

Once, years ago in New Orleans, my doorbell rang, and I met a stranger speaking heavily Greek-accented English and holding a box.

She said, "Natalia has sent you a gift."

I thanked her, took the box, and watched her leave.

When I opened the bakery box, inside were dozens of kourambiethes, baked by a family friend of a former student living in Thessaloniki.

Tonight, when I finish my supper, I shall remember that gift and savor the memory for dessert.

No comments: