This afternoon after naptime we took Henry and Eleanor to the Middle Eastern Festival here in town. I could go on about how we want to expose the kids to different cultures, or how I’ve thought Arabic writing is the most beautiful alphabet ever since, as a kid, I loved the Pepsi bottle my parents brought back from Morocco, or how we saw the mayor being all glad-handy, or how the music was great to experience and the kids kept mentioning the music when we got home despite refusing to dance with me at the festival, but really?
We mainly ate. A lot.
Falafel is one of my favorite foods, but I didn’t discover it until just a few years ago, forcing me to attempt to eat it in large quantities to make up for three decades of lost time. (Seriously, would it have killed someone to tell me, “See these chickpeas? Fry them. It’s delicious?”)
So yeah, guess what I had?
Andy had some lamb-and-beef thing called kafta, as well as some spanikopita, which, and I quote, “was the best I have ever eaten.” (I had a bite; Andy’s telling the truth.)
And Henry and Eleanor had hummus. Lots and lots of hummus. They ate hummus with three helpings of pita bread, they ate hummus with a fork, and when it was almost gone, they sucked hummus right off of the table.
We also had honey balls, which was fun for Eleanor to yell. HOONNNNEY BALLLLLLS!
And of course we got some yummy-looking cashew-and-filo-dough treats to bring home for tomorrow.