Well, here we are. A fresh new season and Kaukab’s daughter is ready to turn over a new leaf. Several leaves, in fact.
New school year. New family configurations. New food. New, New, NEW!
Perhaps an update to serve as the appetizer. Violin girl is away at college for the first time, which means no live music while the cook’s busy pounding chickens and plucking fish bones. Drummer boy’s a barista at a cool, little coffee shop nearby (be jealous, Starbucks), while the other kid is busy developing his photography business.
So, where does that leave the mixed-up daughter of one crazy-good (emphasis on c-r-a-z-y) immigrant cook? Indecisive. Lately, the thought has returned to devising a means for developing and selling food products to the masses. Traditional venues of Farmers’ Markets and food shops have visited and re-visited this weary and hectic mind, but this time around something completely interesting has presented itself.
Truck. Food Truck. One has actually posited itself in our small capitol city and it reminded me of the several food trucks at a college town this immigrant daughter used to patronize (Hey, you…truck…Got falafel!?) when looking for something fresh, different, and cheap for a work lunch. My favorite one was run by an Iraqi man making great falafel. The lines were always long, no matter how cold or rainy the weather. Pretty sure it went a long way in paying for his kids’ college.
The thought is brewing at this point, particularly because of a recent event. A dear friend of ours, who’s really into eating healthy and organic came by the coffee shop one day, eating out of a clear plastic container filled with a beautiful salad of cherry tomatoes, parsley, and a tiny, white seed-like grain throughout. Asked what she was eating, she replied sheepishly, “tabouli.” Kaukab’s daughter began to inspect the ingredients, at first willing to acknowledge its psuedo attempt at Lebanon’s national salad–Kaukab’s homeland. But, after years of tasting well-intentioned “tabouli” this Mediterranean knock-off, listing for $7 @ 8oz., was the last parsley sprig. Enough Americanizing an amazingly perfect dish, which takes very little cookery prowess to produce. And, little money. Thankfully, our friend hadn’t brought the salad to Cleveland, because that salad wouldn’t have made it through the side door (only “real” guests enter through Kaukab’s front door).
All of this is to say that the time has come for Kaukab’s progeny to pass along her great recipes, not only here, but to be made and given (for a price) to the masses, who think that authentic foods, like tabouli, can be anything the cook calls it to be.
Anyone have a truck?