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. 

Alice Speak – Terminology in the Modern Middle East

Alice, the speaker of the wonderful sentence “Words means what I want them to mean,” would feel at ease today in Israel.  After each and every senseless act of violence, supposedly intelligent people use words to mean exactly what they want them to say, freely ignoring their dictionary meaning.

The first example is the description of act of taking a knife and attacking an Israeli.  The Israeli press refers to such foolhardy individuals as terrorists.  Historically, terrorists, like most criminals, had no intention of being captured or killed, hoping to live another day.  IRA hit men and anarchist troublemakers are classic examples.  In fact, the only groups that have ever been willing to die for their cause on a mass basis are the Japanese and the Arabs. The dictionary terms would be kamikaze pilots and suicide bombers (or knifers, as applicable).  By contrast, when the families of the deceased suicide knifer are interviewed publicly (we don’t know what is said privately), absurd words leave their mouths.  The cable guy from East Jerusalem had no intention of running people over but instead had an accident.  Of course, the family is now a hero in the eyes of many Palestinians. Since when has getting into an accident made you a hero? Another quote from the bereaved families in East Jerusalem is that the son or daughter did it because of the occupation. The word occupation implies a serious lack of economic and political freedom.  Curiously, Arabs living in East Jerusalem have more such rights than anywhere else in the Middle East, including the Palestinian Authority and Gaza.

Then, there is a matter of age.  Traditionally, modern Western societies have labeled by people by birth date.  Children are under 13 while youth or teenagers are from 13-18.  A person becomes an adult at 18.  This assumes of course that some restraining family structure is present to prevent those not-yet adults from acting on their impulses. Alas, in the current situation, Palestinian culture, including parents and teachers, encourages act of violence against the external enemy (but not against local Arab leadership). So, is a 13 year or 15 year old trying to stab a soldier, unless he had a long sharp knife by accident of course, a youth or a responsible adult? It is impossible to say that s/he is rebelling against society. On the contrary, society approves the act. There is a classic definition of chutzpah: a person that kills his mother and father requests mercy because he is an orphan. Similarly, how can a 13 year old that follows “adult” rules be considered too naïf to be judged? Are the 17 year rock throwers youth or adults?  Even Western law has problems defining that one.  It is all in the eye of the dictionary writer.

Alice would definitely appreciate how everybody is bending words to fit their political agenda.  On my part, I find it disturbing and depressing, almost Orwellian. I somehow prefer the intellectual honesty of a real murderer, shamelessly admitting he killed someone because of jealousy or a debt. Killing is killing regardless of how and why it is done.  Yet, somehow, I have more respect for those who are honest with themselves. Alas, such individuals in the Middle East are rare.