Proverbs

We took an Arabic dinner to my father-in-law’s apartment last night, and invited a few of his best friends to share it. We arrived early enough to clear a space for five or six chairs amid the papers, books, plants and drying bouquets, walkers, side tables and dropped-but-never-picked-up objects that clutter his rooms. We did likewise in the kitchen, managing to gain access to the oven and stove and a bit of counter space.

My father-in-law settled, sighing, into his favorite chair and watched us work in the kitchen, apologizing for not being able to help. He had made a dish of hummus and arranged it with a moat of olive oil in a valley between the outer round of sculpted chick-pea-and-tahini mountains and the one in the center, the peaks sprinkled with parsley and the banks of the moat dotted with glistening pomegranate seeds.

The guests arrived and we served them in several courses: olives and white Middle Eastern cheeses, pita, and hummus followed by sfiha – meat pastries, spinach turnovers, and laham-bi-ajeen (a sort of Armenian pizza); then pilaf, kibbeh (ground meat and bulgar shaped into stuffed oblong balls and fried), cucumber and yogurt salad; and finally a plate of mixed kinds of baklava.

We were on the dessert course when the night nurse came in with my father-in-law’s medications in a little paper cup. "Here!" he said, proffering the baklava. "Have some!" She refused, cheerfully. He pressed her and she refused again; she was a heavy woman and insisted she couldn’t, that she had already eaten a big dinner. He tried again: “In Arabic we say, ‘Every food has its stomach!’” Everyone laughed; the nurse looked confused and then laughed too. “No,”she said, “I can’t go along with that one!”

It was a night of proverbs. We talked about the Middle Eastern custom of pushing food at guests, since he was pressing everyone to take more. Finally he rattled off a string of Arabic and we insisted on a translation. "Basically it means, 'Eat it and die!' he said. “In other words, go ahead and eat it: if you die it’s worth it!”

One of the women, who has studied Arabic with him every week for several years now, said that they were working on a book of Arabic proverbs.  She had come across one the other day that had really amused her: “I am a Prince, and you are a Prince – so who will lead the donkey?” – a perfect comment on the male entitlement that makes women raise their eyes in most of these cultures.

And at the end of the evening, as we were cleaning up after the guests had left, my father-in-law said we were working too hard. I said that was normal; we always worked. “Either you die by the sword,” he said, “or you die being beaten by brooms.”

Comments

[Dave]

Sounds wonderful! I think that nurse was just afraid of trying something different. I have a full belly at the moment, but my mouth is still watering.

Always a pleasure to read about your father-in-law.

[Lorianne]

"Every food has its stomach!"

I love this! I've always joked that my stomach has an extra, always-empty compartment for dessert, so this proverb offers the same sentiment in a much more concise fashion.

[Bill]

"Who will lead the donkey" doesn't ring of all too much entitlement to me. "Death by broom" somehow does speak of loss of entitlement. "Death by baklava"? That is entirely avoidable.

[Natalie]

I love these cameos about your father in law - put them all together and they could make a book.
XXX

[dale]

Ah, great parallel traditions. Decades ago Martha came up with her famous "compartment theory," which explained many things about how we eat. (The normal human being's ice cream compartment, for example, is on average 71.7 times larger than his or her brussels sprout compartment.)

Another wonderful vignette. Thank you!

[Jean]

Not mine - I love Brussels Sprouts almost as much as icecream! One of my favourite things about Christmas; I gorge on the portions of those who are less keen.

Beth, this is exquisite. Your ear and eye for detail are just wonderful. Yes, perhaps you could compile these sketches into some sort of longer portrait.

[language hat]

Great post, and I join the crowd waiting for the extended Father-in-law Story.