Cucumbers and Mint by Crystal Shepherd( not edited )
"Be aware of what privilege we come from," rang cautionarily in our ears as we stepped into our host's marble tiled, air cooled, high rise flat overlooking the Mediterranean.
Fresh smells from the kitchen and soft slippers for those of us left barefoot by respectfully removing our shoes at the door, welcomed us. After greeting Latif's family members, we learned that today's meal would not be the expected doner kebap, rather the menu would be crowned with tabouli. Not the Fantastic Foods, just add hot water and olive oil variety either. We crowded in mute anticipation around a mountain of steaming fluffy bulgar wheat rising from a silver platter the size of a small hot tub on the kitchen counter. As Latif's aunt's hands slid into the hot bulgar, lifting and turning, smoothing the mountain into foothills, we exchanged Turkish for English. The cooling words for cucumber, green onion, parsley and mint, each contained in a large bowl to the side, hung in the air. Apple sized scoops of red pepper and tomato paste were dropped into the bulgared valleys, in again went her hands, heedless of the heat. Red stained nails pressed the pastes into ribbons, a sprinkle of cumin then her still shifting hands anointed with olive oil. We, with our media inspired fat consciousness, watched eyes widening as our "salad" was doused with nearly a full bottle of olive oil, riding a mental shift from appetizer to calorie and flavor rich entree. A cup of lemon juice, fresh squeezed no doubt, and some hesitation for space-a bigger bowl was needed! A second platter joins the first and fresh green things add their brightening qualities to the mix. From beneath the counter, now appear two bottles one containing a dark viscous concentrate of pomegranate, the other sour plum. A cup of each of these was added, and small samples for those interested in their puckering piquancy were poured. Laughter between our host and our chef ensued as a dash of salt quickly became a handful, but we were not worried. Carefully placed on the table amidst bowls of pickled peppers, grape leaves, romaine lettuce leaves, and freshly stuffed dolmas, the generous feast we were offered left little doubt to each of our solemn oath to at least try what was served.
