A Falefel Obsession

More Falafel memories of Baba

People who know me, know I am a falafel fan. This obssesion with falafel is something I picked up from my father and clearly it is serious enough that I dedicate a second blog post to it... lol. He was handy in a kitchen, as well as a big mess maker. Mom used to hate it when he would step into the kitchen because it would be such a huge mess afterward. He would make us different things. He has his specialties though these were fateh, ash (an iranian soup), shakshoukeh (aka بيض و بندورة) and falafel.

Dad spent a couple of years experimenting with falafel mixes and freezing them to fry up when we wanted some for dinner. He even got the special falafel popper from Syria to help him with his obsession. He would make everything from scratch and kept playing with the mix until he got to the perfect mix of greens spices and chickpeas. They were delicious. I wish I had his recipe. But what I have now is an image of freezer bags full of a grainy green mash of falafel ready to fried up for a lovely dinner at home with cut tomatoes, onions, shata and fresh bread. YUM.  

Today my favorite falafels are the ones made in Syria. The mix is the closest to the one my dad would make. The base is made with chickpeas and has the right spices. Maybe one day I will take my obsession with falafel to the same level as he did and make the mixes at home.

Cranes anyone?

I recall being maybe ten years old and my father was travelling on a business trip to Sweden. He asked me what I wanted. I was obsessed with cranes at the time. I was stubborn about it too and demanded a crane. It was a short trip so there was not much time to shop for a crane.

Well he went on his trip, and returned with guess what, a HUGE crane. At the time, travel and luggage space were expensive, but he still made the effort and got me not just any crane, but the largest crane he could find.

He shared the story of the crane with us. He went into the toy store in this little town in Sweden, and shook the owner's hand. She responded to him that they were surprisingly warm. He was proud of that, and the unique warmth he had.

A few years later he took us on a family vacation that involved driving us from Kuwait to Sweden. Yes this is not a typo. He took me to the same toy store he got the crane from. The owner remembered him and asked about the crane.

I love these simple memories of my father.

Like Father, Like Son