Sweet thoughts – a sweettooth is not wasted on the youth

Thinking about taste memories from the past, I realized that the foods that made the greatest impression, in both the physical and emotional sense, on my mind were sweets.  I can picture and almost even taste them.  I have no problem remembering the pleasure I had in consuming them, regardless of whether I would eat them today. They even create a pleasant sensation merely thinking of them.

As my mother is French and I grew up in the United States, I enjoyed sweets from both sides of the Atlantic. At home, my breakfast was a petit pain au chocolat – a small croissant with chocolate. I know that such a breakfast would be considered highly unhealthily today but my mother justifiably was more concerned that I ate something before school. By the way, even in France, they don’t make them like they used to do, light and chocolaty at the same time. For special occasions, we might get an éclair, once again a light dough but with a wonderful chocolate cream, or a cannoli, an Italian pastry roll with vanilla cream.  On winter days, we might get a cup of hot Dutch Droste chocolate, which, in my mind, was in another league from any other hot chocolate. Later I discovered kouabiedes, Greek cookies made with butter and sugar, and a crêpe au Grand Marnier, a simple crepe with sugar, Grand Marnier and lemon, still one of favorites. During my time in France, I learned to appreciate Italian gelato, relishing those small but tasty cones with pistachio ice cream bought from the cart near the Hotel de Ville in Paris. A real treat was a chocolate liegeoise from the Drugstore on the Champs Elysée. In Paris, I also discovered the joy of banane flambée, the Chinese flambeed dessert. I admittedly was not a typical American kid.

So you don’t think I was a snob, I equally enjoyed American sweets.  The pleasure of plowing through a box of Oreo or Chips Ahoy cookies with some milk is as basic as it gets.  By the way, I always first opened the Oreo when I was a kid. For that matter, I would never refuse a jelly donut if was offered nor do I do today especially since Hanukah is about to arrive with all its sufganiot, the Israel version of that donut on condition that they are fresh or made by my wife. On special occasions, I would have a banana split, which consists of a banana split into two with ice cream, sauce and whipped cream on top, a root beer float, a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a glass of cold root beer, grantedly a strange but tasty combination that I think has disappeared, or a chocolate malt, which is like a chocolate shake with malt added to it, giving it a singular taste. Curiously enough, it is still sold at Dodger Stadium, which is appropriate since the whole park, food included, is a relic of the 1960’s. In summer camps, I actually liked the cinnamon toast and smores, camp-fire roasted marshmallows with chocolate on a graham cracker, as long as the marshmallows were only lightly roasted, not burnt.  In college, due to the awful dorm food, I survived on special banana mocha milk shakes, which included, besides milk, chocolate and coffee ice cream (with pieces of coffee in it), chocolate syrup, a shot of expresso and a banana. Believe it or not, I still lost weight even with that caloric package.

I am no longer 20 years old nor even 30.  Yet, I still have a sweet tooth.  Today, my taste is more Middle Eastern. I relish a piece of baklava or ush el bul bul (bird’s nest) as well as a crème brulée. I have not taken to local crembo, a chocolate-covered crème puff sold in the winter “instead” of ice cream. In practice, my standard dessert is a plain medjool date, moist and just sweet enough to end a meal satisfactory.  I do confess to occasionally pigging out on many of those sweets from the past. All in all, I am happy that I profited from my youthful metabolic balance as much as possible and did not waste my youth, at least in that aspect. 

Holidays in the Holy Land

Reality is often quite ironic.  In the Western World, the only place where almost everybody is working on Jesus’ birthday is in the place he was born.  Throughout Europe and the United States, people will be taking this Sunday off, with only a few luckless individuals having to work.  (I have worked holidays;  Even the extra pay does not make it feel better.) Just in Israel, the birthplace of Jesus, is Sunday a regular working day, albeit with the kids off for Hanukah.  Not only that, there is no sign of snow or reindeers here, not mention, aside from a few Christian villages, any sound of Christmas carols.

In fact, the winter solstice holiday in Israel remains pleasantly banal.  People go to work, unless they work in high tech or some other industry so tied to Europe and the United States that it makes no sense for a business to remain open.  Every night until Wednesday, a candle will be lit and a few short prayers and songs sung in honor of Hanukah.  The Moslems and Druze have no holiday at this time.  So, they conduct business as usual.  The Christians will spend their holiday with their families, but it is not a very public celebration in most places. 

In fact, the most significant signs that there is any holiday at all are the omnipresent sufganiot [doughnuts], the smell of levivot [potato pancakes], and malls packed with kids and teenagers trying to spend their money as fast as they can.  They of course are quite happy to be excused from school for a week, the exact same feeling their teachers have. 

On the bright side, people in Israel are not assaulted by fat men wearing red clothing, a constant background of cheerful songs, the pangs of guilt and foot pain involved in buying gifts, and a week of too much alcohol and food, not to mention fascinating small talk.  This is almost a normal week. For us freelancers, we have two weeks of being in great demand as our colleagues in the West are generally busy socializing. 

Still, I would not protest if someone offered me an eggnog, nice and strong of course, and sang once, but only once, and in key Little Drummerboy.  Aside from that, I prefer the Israeli version of the holiday atmosphere.  It is quite possible that Jesus would feel at home with it.