Producing with Nostalgia for 4 Generations!

I poured my self a cup of Turkish tea & served a slice of Raspberry Tart to go with it…

Trying to remember my connection to the author of this weeks post  my friend MIREY KARASO…

I probably noticed her 1970’s to 80’s in Buyukada… My childhood summer heaven…

Because she and her sister were the token red heads of our Island…it was impossible to miss them.

Then in the late 80’s I noticed her work as friends and family used her products, high design- wedding candy’s from La Bonbonniere (her new company).

Then we ran into each other in Dallas Texas at a Special Events Convention in early 2000’s…

And we chatted about being creative & producing events…in two different continents.

In 2010 Mirey sent her daughter Lara to NYC & CT, to become my intern & right hand for a while…

And in 2011 she has produced an amazing country wedding for my beloved cousin Elvan in Kemer Country, Istanbul…

So if you do not believe in coincidences… you will see that the parallels of our lives… keep crossing time to time...

Here is a story & recipe from Mirey of our shared cultures, rituals, passions, careers,  & meals:

Let’s read together….

“Moshiko… ( A Sepharadic way of saying my Little Moshe)

I am always excited about traditions…I believe they create miracles. Celebrations are special occasions where traditions are repeated since ages...
Fortunately I am an event designer for nearly 30 years in Istanbul. and I help celebrate these traditions...
Once an astrologer told me that I was also an event organizer in one of my past lives, in England... and had a very colorful life.
The truth is,when and if I come back,in my next life, I only want to be just a guest in other events...
This profession which I had just started as a joke, made my life...

I grew up with it, & it grew up with me...we shared so many nice moments with so many lovely people...We celebrated, traveled, loved, ate and certainly prayed while being grateful.

I also had the occasion of integrating different traditions from myriad backgrounds, as Turkey is a very cosmopolite country.
Food also is lovely here... Turkish cuisine mixed with my Sephardic routes, makes for really special hybrid.
Once I was invited to become a contestant to a "food festival" with a personal & special recipe.

The first thing I had in mind was to cook my great- grandmothers Sephardic recipe ...
“El Tapada de Berencena” (The Eggplant Tart).
The jury wanted me to repeat the food tasting three times as they loved this amazing taste.
When I was a little girl, I liked to watch my mom cooking...and I remember the way she hold the dough, how she made this delicious tart in an artistic way with the beautiful smell.
We used to go swimming every weekend in Prince Island (Buyukada) with our boat, at least 15 of us cramped in the wooden boat… led by Captain Maurice.

My mothers Tapada was a must have tradition for those joyful days....
To think that this is a recipe that my great -grandmother use to cook in Thessaloniki with her prostela (onluk), then my mom has cooked it in Istanbul city center later, and today I am cooking it in the country side for my family and friends... is HISTORY in making for me…
No doubt one day my Daughter will cook this for her 4^th generation table…

I hope you also share in my rituals, try this in your kitchen …..and serve it to your loved ones…

A quick warning …If you make this you might faint while its cooking in oven...the smell ... is that GREAT”

Here is the recipe...
Eat, enjoy,love and be grateful....

{Tapada de Berencena}  {The Eggplant Tart}.

1 cup canola oil

half a glass of water

1 tsp salt

2 tablespoons grated Kaser (Turkish Cheese similar to Parmesan)

As much flour as it takes…

Filling:

4 pieces of roasted eggplant

200 grams of grated Kaser

Boil the oil, water, salt, (5 minutes)

Take it of the stove and add Kaser and then flour.

Knead it into a  soft dough.

Divided into two and put in the fridge to rest.

Sprinkle a little grated Kaser bottom of tart pan.

Open up ½ of the dough mixture really thinly…

Make sure you roll the edges of the dough to cover sides of the pan.

Sprinkle the dough with more Kaser ..  This makes the dough really crunchy once cooked.

Once the bottom of the shell is ready pour the the eggplant and the  Kaser mixture in.

Again, put the remaining dough over the top as the cover ... The upper dough is now reversed on a plastic cover…and replced back….

The top then will be cut with a sharp knife,  to create diamond-design.

A little water is poured into your palms and sprinkled over the dough... more Kaser is sprinkled over top.

And then is baked in the oven.

Cook until brown on topat 350 degrees for approximately one hour.

Bon Appetite”

Check Mirey out at:

Www.labonbonniere.com.tr

Following the scent of Lahmajun?

My friend Vasken Kalayjian is a renaissance man... the advertiser, the brand specialist, the father, the artist, the spiritual thinker, the lover, and the romantic... Throughout the years at times we were in the same yoga class, lived on the same street, exchanged ideas in the same branding brainstorming meetings and also broke bread at the same dinner table...

Until I asked him for this post I had no idea we also had another shared passion... We were both once young kids begging our mothers for more LAHMAJUN!...

( my mom use to hate Lahmacun but she was kind enough to take me to the specialty store Kahraman Maras in Nisantasi, and waited outside while I had mine....because the place stunk of onions, garlic, spices... YUMMM!!!)

Read this from his pen...

"Lahmajun-seeking has been a great entry for me into many Middle Eastern cultures. In conversing with local people, I’ve been provided insight into the little-known delicacies -- Lahmajun in particular."

A cab driver in Dubai told me about a great little restaurant hidden from the fancy glittering skyscrapers where I could find authentic Lahmajun. He informed me that the chef happened to be from Aleppo, where I believe the world’s best Middle Eastern cuisine, perfected over 10,000 years, is found.

An Egyptian doorman in Stockholm told me where to find the best Lebanese restaurant in town where they also make great Lahmajun. (Trust me; it was a lifesaver after 3 days of salmon and white fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner.)

My adventurous spirit to travel to new places, learn and grow through interesting encounters with people is something my soul yearns for in this life. I do love food and consider myself a “foodie”.

A few years ago, I planned a historical journey with my two gorgeous daughters, Lara and Sevan. Together, we visited Turkey, Syria, and Armenia. My goal was to go beyond the typical tourist trip to allow my daughters to experience each authentic culture to its fullest extent.

Istanbul is one of my top ten favorite cities in the world. Both the classic Turkish and Ottoman cuisines are so tasty and familiar to my Armenian taste buds.

Of the many excellent restaurants we tried in Istanbul, we thought Istanbul’s most exquisite and romantic fine dining experience was at Tuğra Restaurant, located on the first floor of the original Çırağan Palace where we stayed. (Thank you, Moshe, for recommending it!) The feast began with the wonderful ambience: rich Ottoman décor, live classical Turkish music and the ever-stirring backdrop of the Bosphorus. We were offered a table on Tuğra’s summer terrace, lit by the moon, a candle, and the Bosphorus Bridge, but it was a little chilly and noisy out there with a wedding party below so we opted to go back indoors. With specialties like Lamb Külbastı and Testi Kebab, Tuğra’s modern classic menu with obscure classic Turkish and Ottoman cuisine will take you back to the glorious eras of the Sultans. The traditional candy stick trolley "Macun" and my other favorite sweets were dream come true. The girls had an excellent bottle of wine, but I am so conditioned to drink Arak (Turks call it “Raki”) with this type of food.

Lahmacun, (Turkish pronunciation: [lahmaˈdʒun]) or lahmajoun (Armenian - Lahmadjun lahmaǰun), from Arabic: لحم بعجين‎, lahm bi'ajīn, "meat with dough", is an item of prepared food thought to have originated in the early Syrian cuisine of the Levant. It consists of a round, thin piece of dough topped with minced meat (most commonly beef and lamb mixed with spices). Lahmajun is often served sprinkled with lemon juice and wrapped around vegetables, including pickles, tomatoes, peppers, onions, lettuce, and parsley or cilantro.

On our second round of Istanbul, we wanted to expand our restaurant experience and tried less fancy places one of them was: Hamdi Restaurant near Galata Bridge on the Europe side. I judge casual Turkish restaurants by their Lahmajun, and it was excellent. They served it with all the traditional toppings including smoked eggplant.

Lahmajun is prominently made and sold in Armenia, Israel, Iran, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Syria, and Turkey, where there are restaurants that specialize in it, and many countries with sizeable Near and Middle Eastern communities, where it is sometimes labeled as Turkish Pizza or Armenian Pizza.

As a little boy growing up in Aleppo, my mother would prepare the topping, the meat and spice mixture, and have me bring it to the baker who would make it into Lahmajun. I had very clear instructions to keep my eye on the baker so he did not keep some of the mixture for himself and not to eat any myself on the way back. Telling a little boy not to eat hot, delicious Lahmajun after hours of waiting was torture, so I often succumbed. My mother would always know from my breath, but I was her baby so I got away with it."

I have visited some of the best Lahmajun bakeries in Glendale, CA where there is a sizable Armenian population. In the New York Metro area, here are my recommendations for a few places with excellent Lahmajun: Ali Baba, 206 East 34th Street New York NY 10016 T: 212-683-9206 and Saray Turkish Restaurant: 770 Campbell Avenue, West Haven, CT 06516 T: 203-9370707

You can also buy them frozen, but always use a toaster oven, not a microwave, to reheat them. Many Middle Eastern stores carry two popular brands here in this area: the Assadourian brand, (Assadourian, Inc Middle East Lahmajun 355 Anderson Avenue, Fairview, New Jersey T: (201) 941-5662) which is the more Aleppo-style and authentic, and the Kupelian brand, (Kupelian Foods Inc. 146 Bergen Tpke, Ridgefield Park, NJ T: (201) 440-8055) which is less flavorful and skimpy with toppings.

Zoe = Life { are we paying attention? }

This weeks post is not about a meal yet it is about friends, conversations and feeding our souls...
I love this story submitted by my friend very talented photographer & writer Doreen Birdsell...
She knows me well enough that this was going to read as a very {a-la-mo} experience... 
It is about all the signs we are receiving every day... But do we pay attention?
I hope you like reading it as much as I have:

      "One day while sweeping outside my Inn in Provincetown I noticed a dog tag and collar lying on the ground.  I was really busy with already too much to do and decided to sweep around it knowing that somebody else would come along, pick it up, and know better than me, what to do with it.  Owning an Inn has enough of its own interruptions.

        The next day I went outside, again with broom in hand to make a quick sweep so I could get on with the much more important things that were on my list for the day.  As I turned to walk back into the house I noticed that someone had put the dog collar on the picket fence where I could no longer avoid coming in contact with it. I couldn’t believe it.

The dark blue, leathery collar was worn and shred. Only about a two-thirds piece of it remained intact but the tags were still legible. One was a dog license and the other, an I.D. tag, with a name inscribed, Zoe, and a local phone number.  I had no time for this but neither could I leave it on the fence; so now it would find its way to my desk for two days until I did something about it. That dog collar had become an uninvited, unwanted item on my already too long to-do list, but the nagging sensation that I should call the number on the tag was greater than the time it would take to finally do it. 

I dialed the local phone number and got a voice message. “Great,” I thought, “I’ll leave a message that I found this collar and be done with it.”

          A couple more days went by. The dog tag and collar had now become like an ornament on my desk.  In the quiet of late evening during that welcome undisturbed time of catching up, the occasional wandering thought would lead my eye to that collar to wonder about who it might have belonged to and how it got to me.

In the flurry of a busy morning and constant calls I was snapped into the moment when I answered a call from a man who said,

“Someone left a message about a dog collar that was found?”

“Oh, yes…that was me who called…I’m one of the owners of the Inn at Cook Street and it was dropped in front of our house,” I said.

“I live in California now but still have my local number in Provincetown. I just heard your message when I called in…I can’t believe you found Zoe’s collar in front of your inn. I threw it into the sea at the Moors with her ashes two years ago after she died. She loved the Moors,” he said.

“Two years ago?!?” I asked….”The Moors?”  That’s two miles away… How’d it get here in front of the Inn?

“I don’t know…maybe seagulls?” he asked, trying to make sense of it. “I’m so glad you found it and that you called me – I think it’s a message from Zoe…that she wants me to know she’s alright.  I still think of her, a lot. I miss her.”

Time was suspended in the silence between us. There were so many messages for me in that experience.  How often do I push away something that’s not on my timetable because I think I’m just too busy?  Time after time what I need to know is right in front of me, and when will I get that so often the way I experience God comes after resistance and surrender?

When I hung up the phone I looked up the definition of the word Zoe. It’s a Greek word that means, “Life.” 

I still have that collar as a reminder of the lessons learned, and one day I look forward to meeting Zoe to thank her for her message."

Zoe Definition

 zoe { dzo-ay’} 
Strong's Lexicon: Greek Origin
-Life
- the state of one who is possessed of vitality or is animate
- every living soul
-Life
- of the absolute fullness of life, both essential and ethical, which belongs to God, and through Him
- life real and genuine, a life active and vigorous, devoted to God, blessed, in the portion even in this world of those who put their trust in Christ, and to last for ever.

All you can eat?

What can one say about Mr.Woog (Dan)... to watch him coach, to know him, to read him, to follow his blog (06880), to see his selfless activism... is to love HIM.
So let me leave you to the Master's hands...




"Moshe’s wonderful blog is filled with orgasmic descriptions of delectable dishes. There are stories of appetizers, entrees, desserts. I read about bok choy that “weeps a bit of water.” Emotions flow freely, for sure.
 
Everyone adds his or her favorite recipe.

Moshe asked me to do the same.

I have many talents. I write, I coach soccer, I walk to the planet Zork with my eyes closed.

But cooking is not one of my talents.

Still, in an effort to engage in this great conversation – and, perhaps, be asked to dine by people who can actually cook – I’ll share my favorite food story.

It’s a list of the top five places in and around Westport to score free samples.

First – that is, in fifth place – is Whole Foods. The selection is natural and organic, which of course makes me feel all kinds of virtuous about wandering around eating, but it’s skimpy. It’s like a highly regarded New York restaurant that brings you two sprigs of parsley, with some exotic sauce, and charges 24.95 (without, of course, the dollar sign).

Everyone goes “oooooh, marvelous,” but you’re thinking “WTF?” You really have to dig to find samples at Whole Foods, but when you do they are good. Just not real filling.

Balducci’s is in fourth place, a drop from years past. In earlier incarnations – Hay Day, and something else that lasted about 6 minutes – the place was filled with samples. Fruit slices, cheeses, entrees and sides right out of the oven, plus tons o’ pastries. Now they’ve throttled back, so like Whole Foods, you’ve got to be a hunter/gatherer rather than a scarfer.

Fresh Market takes third place. I’ve had some fantastic half-sandwiches there – roast beef, pulled pork, great stuff. Yeah, it’s weird eating it out of a plastic urine specimen cup, but you can’t beat the price. Fresh Market also offers cookies and cheese platters, while every so often – random Saturdays and holidays – they turn the place into a banquet. Carving stations, steam tables, all manned by very friendly staff urging you to eat. One more Fresh Market note: There are samples at the checkout counter, but they’re hidden in little cardboard boxes you have to open. Don’t be shy!

In second place is Garelick & Herbs. Specializing in chips and dips, brownies and cookies – and lots of them -- this upscale gourmet store gets bonus points for compactness. No need to wander aimlessly looking for free food; it’s all right there, between the counter and the register.

In first place – no surprise – is Stew Leonard’s. The sign calls it the “Worlds Largest Dairy Store” (yeah, they write it without the apostrophe), but it could also be the Worlds Largest Free Food Emporium. From the entrance (cookies, other pastries, and for some reason, usually spinach pie), through the winding aisles past rice cakes, pomegranate juice, and on and on and on, Stew’s is sample heaven. More often than not, there’s even something like jelly beans at the customer service counter after checkout.

But that’s your normal, weekday, early morning and evening free fare at Stew’s. Saturday and Sunday afternoons make those offerings look like Oliver’s gruel. Weekends are when vendors pour in, handing out their wares in a free Norwalk version of an Arab souk. The latest yogurt bars, salsa dips and ice cream flavors – they’re all there. And more.

Saturdays and Sundays are also the days Stew’s sets out cheeses, salads – even shrimp – as samples. You can eat an entire meal at Stew’s.

And I often have."

Is she a MERMAID?

What can I say?
I was introduced to Deniz Dogruyol this summer in Turkey.
I was told:
“She is an amazing young woman, a great artist, totally up your alley”
One day I was in her home and the next at her artist studio/home in Bebek…
Then I asked her to be part of our intro to {a-la-Mo} web TV…
Soon it became apparent that there was a soul-friendship…
And here is the proof…
She puts our mutual love of seafood, our love for Cesme (Izmir),
And our endless love of the Sea…into words, much better than I ever can.
Read this PLEASURE JOURNEY from her pen…
I think it is SUPERB:


"Is it because I am from Izmir?
Or is it because my name is Deniz? (meaning sea in Turkish)
Maybe it is because my dad was a marine?
Having grown up with the view of the shoreline…
Plus being a lover of Cesme (izmir)…
I am very much one of the ones that say:
“I will eat anything as long as it is of the sea!”
Honestly I could only have a seafood diet…
The reality is I am not necessarily a gourmet.
With the exception of my obsession with dessert 
My dreams are always of the Agean tables…
The long conversations & chatters,
A soft summer breeze…
The kind that trembles your insides and outs…
For me to eat at that kind of table…
Is like photo squares from life…
Like a whole image composed of the meal, the conversations, the joy and the pleasure derived…
I can’t imagine that meal without the conversation, nor the conversation without the meal.
One has to linger…
Sit at that table as long as possible…
If it is summertime… you better start before sunset…
And continue way past midnight…
Well all memories spill on the table…
And lets ask the waiter for a shawl to cover our shoulders…
While the wind is softly whispering.
But we have not described the venue yet…
Imagine a true Agean Fish Restaurant…
Feet in sand, a weak street lamp,
Mismatched country café chairs,
No table cloth but paper… yet super chic! (I will get back to the paper cloth)
The sound of the waves is mixed with the male singers voice ( Tanju Okan)
The waiter is not doing French service…
More like a family style…
All left in the center of the table…
Looks more abundant that way…
We each help ourselves…as much as we desire…
No need to be formal… we are at a local fish restaurant…
For me…the culture of fresh seafood is casual in nature
Because everything of the sea relaxes one….
That is sometimes I do not get an upscale Fish Restaurant in Istanbul…
Besides few of my favorites… (between you & I) I find them all a bit too serious…
Ok! Then let the dishes come slowly…
Tapas…meze’s…
One’s that have fresh herbs as hero’s…
Lots of yogurt , eggplant, zucchini, and smashed carrot puree…
Greenest of the green veggies…
Salads with tons of bitter arugula
And a fashipn show of seafood & shellfish…
Some grilled calamari, if possible mostly the tentacles…
Grilled Jumbo Prawns…
Then a grilled buttered lobster, which I eat every morsel off the shells…
OMG it now is 10:30pm…
Remember we had started to eat before sunset…
Barely time for main course…
Should we have a seabass…cipura…tranca… sword fish…
While sipping Raki (Turkish Ouzo) next to it…
Isn’t life about chatting with loved ones, while eating dishes we love…
What else could complete that kind of picture…
Oh! I was to come back to the paper on the table…
As the hours go by…
My biggest pleasure now is to make my art speak…
All is my canvas now, the paper cloth, the napkin…
First I make a flower and put it on my ear..
Then I begin to take orders from my friends at the table…
I make birds, bugs, and flowers… whatever they wish for…
All orders are custom and delivered on the spot…
Deniz My Paper Art is always here to create your dreams and beyond your imagination…
Now that we have finished production…
It is time for Turkish coffee and Ayva Tatlisi {Caramelized Quince}
Now that we are way past midnight
The joy has risen…
We all start humming a familiar song, none of us want to get up and leave…
All sorts of fullness is now being experienced…
All faces are glowing…a shimmer in your eyes…
That is the most incredible scene from life…
Because at that moment not only the tummies are full…
So are the souls…
That is why we should not have meals without conversations…
Words shared our the spice of the meal… the salt & the pepper…
I feel like catching a plane to Cesme (Izmir) now…
I lived all that I wrote tonight…


PS: If you happen to be in Cesme..
Stop by ILDIR ADA BALIK and/or CIFTLIK LANGUSTA…

Stylized Salmon Croquettes...

My good friend Eric & I can not be so different on the surface yet so similar deep down...

Stylist to the stars, most respected magazines and media overall this fire ball & I share a passion for our children, fashion, sun, gossip, Starbucks, watches, food, cooking and eating...

After tasting his delicious Salmon Croquettes maybe 7 years ago or so... I begged him to give me the recipe & recount one of his memories about his crazy Golden Girls...

And the following is from his pen & pan...

"Picture this…..Rego Park, Queens, New York, 1970 and we live in a 2 bedroom apartment on the second floor of a 6 story building in a “fancy’ apartment building.  The reason it was fancy is because we had a doorman. Our kitchen was the center of fashion, gossip and the culinary world as I knew it.  I spent most of my childhood in the kitchen with both my mother and my grandmother. They were from Castoria, Turkey and spoke Ladino, which is a combination of Spanish, Greek and Turkish.

They would spend the entire day speaking in this crazy language about all of the women in the neighborhood, the feral children, and how certain ladies were terribly dressed. On any given day you can go in that room, it was filled with a cloud of cigarette smoke and food frying on a huge stove.  That tiny kitchen was capable of feeding an army of Sephardic Jews on any Jewish holiday.  The list of foods that they made were endless and half of them I could never figure out how to spell. There were meat stuffed peppers, salads, lemon soups, stuffed cabbage, rice dishes, okra, Greek dishes, lamb, eggplant and always a pot of squash in stewed tomatoes.  All I knew is that they were absolutely delicious. 

My mother, who was a striking beauty, had her hair done twice a week at Bonwit Tellers. She would go Saturday morning with me in tow with a picture of Marilyn McCoo’s hair from the Fifth Dimension and told her hairdresser that she wanted that flip.  He would expertly weave a white Pucci scarf into the front of her hair that matched her Pucci white mink cape and she was ready for her Saturday night out.  Each Saturday it was another scarf to match her unbelievable wardrobe. The woman was impeccably dressed at all times and I have never seen her without make up or sky high heels her entire life.  My grandmother was exactly the same, but her hair looked like a huge blonde hard boiled egg and it was about 2 feet high.

As the gay son (my mother always knew that) she would teach me how to cook all of her food and always took me wherever she went.  She was scared that my father was going to make me play football and I was going to get killed.  She called me Flaka (skinny girl in Spanish). My mother absolutely adored me.

The recipe that I have included was a staple in our home and I have been making them since I was a child.  Salmon croquettes were made for all occasions and were always on our table.  Our apartment would stink like fish and oil for days but after a while it was a smell that made it our home.  I hope you enjoy them and think of my mother, smoking, cursing, and wearing Halston. She was a gem…"

Arlene Confino Stern

So are you Eric...




{Salmon Croquettes by Eric Stern}




(yields ... who knows how many???)

4 Large Cans Of Sockeye salmon (on sale)

2 Large Spanish Onions

Progresso Italian Breadcrumbs

2 Tbs. Celery Seed

Kosher Salt

Black Pepper

4 Large Eggs

Canola Oil

Open the cans of salmon and put the contents of the can in one hand and carefully flake and remove as many of the bones as you can. I also leave any skin that might be on the salmon and also the fat if there is any and put in a large mixing bowl.  Chop the onions in a nice dice but not too small. I like when you get a bite of a piece of onion and also put that in the bowl. Add the 4 eggs and mix it with the onions and salmon (I use my hands, you don’t want to make a mousse). Add the salt to taste and slowly add bread crumbs until it can form croquettes. Add the celery seed and be very generous with the black pepper.

In a large skillet fill half way up with canola oil and start to fry nice sized croquettes on both sides until golden brown. I place them on kitchen paper to drain and always sprinkle them with kosher salt while they are still hot.

Being a proper Sephardic Jew we served these with a salad or as a side dish at most holidays and for Passover I used matza meal instead of breadcrumbs and added seasoning.  These are a staple in my family and they will totally stink up the house for days, so if you have an outdoor grill with a burner use it!

Sevil, Valentines Day and my chilhood...

I must have been 5 or 6 years old when I met you.

It was either at the end of a school day, or possibly I was returning from a weekend at my Dad’s...

I saw you on the living room sofa, sitting wearing a micro mini skirt… And a shy smile…

Who were you?

As we were introduced, I was told you were my Uncle Yusuf’s girl friend.

Well next thing I remember…

We were all visiting your family & childhood home.

It was vastly different the Sisli(Istanbul) apartment that we were living in…

A wooden Victorian old house in Yesilkoy (suburb of Istanbul)…

Your mom & Dad… your sister Meral Abla, tons of cats…

All so different but somehow much warmer…

Then I remember your engagement, the Military Service years, Ankara…

Our conversations were so fluid, as if there was no 15 years of an age difference…

I listened to you & you listened to me… & heard me!

I remember your wedding… In the Beyoglu registry building…

Then the reception in Tarabya Kosem Restaurant…
I was the only kid invited…

So proud… and feeling so special…

I got drunk for the first time that evening… I had my first champagne ever…My head was spinning…

From age 6 to 16 my life resembled a bit to a tropic island…

With calm beautiful days and at times interrupted by tropical storms…

And you felt all this, because you were extremely sensitive…

Maybe that is why, I end up spending the February school breaks in Yesilkoy with you guys… to avoid the storms.

We would spend our days in the farmers markets, we would read gossip magazines, sip our Turkish tea…

Always chatting about what to prepare for dinner…

For you also preparing dinner, to feed others & art of eating was always a huge ritual & pleasure…

Especially if it involved pasta, or the green Turkish plums with coarse salt…

It was one of those days when I made my first dish/dessert for you… (the only one I knew how to?) I must have been 10 or 11 years old.

It was “Flan”.

Now that I think about it... Knowing all that you did, having a degree in home economics & cooking, and all your abilities…

Why did you push me to make this dish? Could it be because you were trying to validate me? To encourage me? Or unleash my creativity?

All is possible thus you are that kind.

Years went by and you became a mother twice yet you had 3 children... (the twins)

I became a teen ager & got pre-occupied with my friends…

Then I moved to USA, there were countries & oceans between us now…

So much had changed, yet in a way so much remained the same…

I also became a father twice with 2 kids…

Yet you still called me "kucuk arkadasim" my little friend…

I am 47 now...

I am bold and the little hair I have has turned grey…

Yet my beautiful Aunt, that child whom you have supported, protected, understood, listened to, and each moment we shared… will always remain as a detail that made me who I am…

Today instead of asking why? How? How come? Wish we were? Wish we had?

I honor those beautiful memories… warm in my heart…

Kind of like the flans, toped with the burnt sugar… Sweet & bitter…

Like life:  bitter & sweet…

Your name is “Sevil” meaning “Be loved”

And today is Valentine’s day...
And your birthday...

This day should not only be for those who are LOVERS, yet the ones we love…
One or many…

What is important is who has touched our souls?…

Who has affected the change?…

You have affected me…

I wish to all the ones that love and are loved by somebody…

A very beautiful “Valentine’s Day”

{FLAN}

Ingredients:

• 1 cup and 1/2 cup sugar
• 6 large eggs
• 1 14oz can sweetened condensed milk
• 2 13 oz cans evaporated milk
• 1 teaspoon vanilla

Preparation:

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. You will need 6 ramekins or other specialty flan cook ware and a large baking pan to put them in.

Pour 1 cup sugar in warm pan over medium heat. Constantly stir sugar until is browns and becomes caramel. Quickly pour approximately 2-3 tablespoons of caramel in each ramekin, tilting it to swirl the caramel around the sides. Reheat caramel if it starts to harden.

In a mixer or with a whisk, blend the eggs together. Mix in the milks then slowly mix in the 1/2 cup of sugar, then the vanilla. Blend smooth after each ingredient is added.

Pour custard into caramel lined ramekins. Place ramekins in a large glass or ceramic baking dish and fill with about 1-2 inches of hot water. Bake for 45 minutes in the water bath and check with a knife just to the side of the center. If knife comes out clean, it's ready.

Remove and let cool. Let each ramekin cool in refrigerator for 1 hour. Invert each ramekin onto a small plate, the caramel sauce will flow over the custard.