lavieenrose
Albania Superstar
I was looking for a different topic and found this thread I'd not ever seen and will be using it to share my baklava origin story.
So when @Lupus and I got married we did separate commitment ceremonies in the US and UK so thateach of our mothers could have an event to freak out over all to themselves each of our families/friends wouldn't have to all travel to one location. For the US one, we had nearly a week of events, and it kicked off with a Thursday night dinner for family and the wedding party. My Oma had passed away early on in my and Robert's engagement, and as a kind-of tribute to her, we decided to have this Thursday night dinner catered by the woman whose table was next to my Oma's at the farmer's market where Oma used to sell her crafts. This woman owned a Mediterranean restaurant called Juju's Mediterranean Kitchen in my hometown, Napa.
So anyway, my parents and I go to her cafe to plan and talk things out with her. She's exactly as you're imagining her, this very boisterous, slightly batty, incredibly sweet 60something Lebanese woman. Everything's going just fine and uneventful, and my mom says "I feel like we need to add something sweet for dessert." Juju locks right in, turns to us, and says, suddenly all-business and deadly serious, "...baklava." I had only vaguely heard of what this was--fully confused it with those masks burglars wear, but I trust her implicitly so I just kind of go along with it, but I do fess up that I wasn't really sure what baklava even was. She goes to the back room and comes back with a piece.
Reader, I nearly cried. It's probably the best bite of food I've ever had in my life. This baklava was truly a life-affirming experience. Absolutely stunning.
In the following years, I've eaten a truly obscene amount of baklava to the point that it's probably keeping me above 200 pounds all on its own.
So when @Lupus and I got married we did separate commitment ceremonies in the US and UK so that
So anyway, my parents and I go to her cafe to plan and talk things out with her. She's exactly as you're imagining her, this very boisterous, slightly batty, incredibly sweet 60something Lebanese woman. Everything's going just fine and uneventful, and my mom says "I feel like we need to add something sweet for dessert." Juju locks right in, turns to us, and says, suddenly all-business and deadly serious, "...baklava." I had only vaguely heard of what this was--fully confused it with those masks burglars wear, but I trust her implicitly so I just kind of go along with it, but I do fess up that I wasn't really sure what baklava even was. She goes to the back room and comes back with a piece.
Reader, I nearly cried. It's probably the best bite of food I've ever had in my life. This baklava was truly a life-affirming experience. Absolutely stunning.
In the following years, I've eaten a truly obscene amount of baklava to the point that it's probably keeping me above 200 pounds all on its own.
WITH Bosnian coffee of course
