Wishing a blessed Ramadan to all my Muslim friends and readers.
Yesterday we had to go to the northeastern part of the city, near Anjou to pick up a package, and on the way back we decided to stop at Sami's, a well-known Montreal wholesaler of fruits and vegetables. Sami's is an Arab company, with one large warehouse-like store at the Jean-Talon and another major warehouse in the Chabanel district near Marche Central. But when we walked into this east-end store, we couldn't believe our eyes. The photographs don't begin to convey the vastness of the warehouse, or just how much produce was on display in these towering piles. We had almost no money, and Sami's only does cash transactions, so we pooled all our coins and finally found a cash machine so that we could take advantage of the stop. Extra-virgin olive oil for 4.99...vine-ripe tomatoes for 99 cents a pound...yellow peppers for 1.35...
Sami's also carries all the roots and herbs needed in the cooking of the African and Latin American communities, as well as Middle Eastern ones. I love seeing the stacks of fresh mint, piles of parsley and dill, thyme tied into great bunches. Yesterday, though, I was stopped by this display of leaves and their name in Arabic: "malukhiyah" - these are the Egyptian mallow leaves that are the basis for special dishes loved by Egyptians, Syrians, and Lebanese, and it is this leaf that my father-in-law was always asking for, but I never found. We brought him a frozen package once, but he, of course, dismissed it as inauthentic. If he were alive now, I'd bring him fresh green almonds and malukhiyah, try to follow his directions for cooking the herb with chicken, and endure the insults when he tasted it. Instead, all I could do was to picked up a sheaf of leaves, crushed one and hold it to my nose, and then gently put it back onto the pile like an offering.
Yesterday I began writing about him again; it's time to pick up the pieces of that story and fill in the blank areas: he'd be 100 years and two months right now. I see him clearly in my imagination, eating malukhiyah and gazing out at the Mediterranean, lost in contented thought.
(Does anyone here know how to cook malukhiyah, or have memories of eating it? I'd love to hear from you if you do.)
Beth -- so glad you found this wonderful paradise of vegetables, so wistful it was after your father-in-law had died. Peace.
Posted by: Pica | August 25, 2009 at 12:38 PM
A paradise of vegetables indeed, I'm a wee bit envious of the choices and prices. We shop at a Chinese owned produce market for they are much better priced than the chain supermarkets and offer more of the locally grown when it's available.
Looking forward to more of your lovely and loving stories of your late father-in-law, Beth.
Posted by: Marja-Leena | August 25, 2009 at 01:30 PM
Claudia Roden has a few pages on Melokhia (that's how she spells it) in her "New Book of Middle Eastern Food" 1985. I can scan for you if you like. She gives a recipe for soup (Egyptian) and says to make it as a sauce for Chicken you do the same procedure with twice as much of the vegetable. You would need 2 kg of Melokhia per one chicken and you need to chop it into "nearly a puree" with a mezzeluna or knife of your choice before adding to the broth, so that is remains suspended in the liquid and does not settle.
There is a Sami in LaSalle also and I nearly fainted from the amazing mountain of fresh coriander they were setting out.
Posted by: Vivian | August 25, 2009 at 03:42 PM
Kia ora Beth,
What a wonderful place to discover! And such a beautiful moment of remembrance and connection to your father in law.
Aroha,
Robb
Posted by: Robb | August 25, 2009 at 04:02 PM
If I ever get up there again to visit you and Jonathan, I want to go there to take pictures. It looks great! Glad to hear you're revisting the FIL book.
Posted by: Dave | August 25, 2009 at 10:30 PM
Hey Beth, I blogged about Sami a few times. Once in Dutch, but the second time even in stereo!
I take all my out-of-town guest there, and buy almost all my veggies and fruits there. I'm often the only "white" Caucasian, which reminds me, in a good way, of living in Rotterdam.
Posted by: mare | August 26, 2009 at 08:26 AM
Even i was affected! I actually ordered an essay on it.This
writing service made an excellent essay for me.
Posted by: John Smith | August 27, 2009 at 09:48 AM
Ramadan wishes to you too Beth.
Wistful reading this post, but glad you will be writing about your father in law again. Your stories made him so alive that it's joy to hear his mention again - even though he is no longer here.
Also await a post with the results of cooked malukhiya!
Posted by: Szerelem | August 28, 2009 at 11:55 AM
Beth, do you know Collette Rossant's 'Apricots on the Nile?'. It's a wonderful memoir with recipes of a childhood spent in Egypt in a Jewish family before the war, it's a fascinating glimpse into a lost world; she remembers her elderly relatives speaking Ladino . I'm sure she mentions malukhiyah, and probably lots of other things that would interest you. She lived other parts of her life in France and in New York.
This market looks quite intoxicating!
Posted by: Lucy | September 09, 2009 at 04:03 PM
Fascinating pictures. Look also narrative_essay
Posted by: narrative_essay | October 04, 2009 at 08:25 PM