A Mediterranean Feast for the Senses

With a sweep of her hand, she revealed a spread that would be the culmination of a year’s preparation.

All manner of cured olives, goat’s cheese, freshly baked sesame bread still steaming,

Mezze of grilled sardines with the aroma of lemon and garlic, the picked okra, the fresh herbs,

Mint tea and wine in equal measure,

Finger bowls and cutlery, the finest offerings.

A plate of spicy carrots sat alongside hummus and labne, refreshing both.

As the sun shone through the grapevine in dappled shapes that danced on the cloth,

The table was a collage of color, fragrance, and the soft sounds of diners mixed in with the sounds of nature. 

Another glance, and a roast suckling lamb appeared, surrounded by field vegetables and cured lemons, accompanied by an enormous plate of couscous with every seasonal root vegetable around. 

The diners drank and ate and talked, some slept, some sang, for it was truly the celebration they had been promised. 

After the repast had been consumed, enjoyed, reveled in,

A tray of sweets arrived, laden with baklavah, kadaifi, sharope and sweet cakes

Accompanied by a finjan of sweet, aromatic, black ground coffee that intoxicated the senses. 

The obligatory basket of fresh fruit arrived: tangerines, plums, persimmon, fresh figs and dates to sweeten the palate and nourish the soul.

This was a celebration of the food that mankind ate at the cradle of civilization, the days of the Bible, when sage men and philosophers roamed about, when God himself was closer to all of us.