this one's dedicated to my lovely Noosi: summer peach {german} pancakes
my cousin calls her "hastash" which translates to (the) pit, (as in the cherry pit) because she would so often feed us cherries from her trees and not let us go until we spit out the pit saying "hastash ro bedeh" or "spit out the pit". she would get down on her knees and show me ant hills and wiggly worms and let me pick radishes and carrots and plant seeds and water the fresh herbs she was growing. she let me secretly keep the baby kittens we found in the attic (even though my parents were against it), bought me little yellow baby chickens, sang for me and made me dance for her...ramdari rimdam ramdari rimdam, lied down with me until i fell asleep, washed my hair, scrubbed my back, and cooked me anything i asked for, let me make the biggest mess in her kitchen, taught me her prayers, gave me love without abandon and taught me the importance of being gentle, kind, and giving, of loving your family, of dreaming big, and most of all of feeding them well. she generally spoiled me rotten, and i am so much the better for it. as my sister says, every memory of our childhoods begins and ends with her. she is the strongest and most special woman i have ever known (my mom comes a very close second). whenever i face a problem i think of her strenghth, her hopefulness, her faith, and her boundless enthusiasm. mommoni-e-man, Noosi, you are the sun and the moon and everything good i know in this life. i love you. you are with me every time i cook anything. i made my kids a light peach pancake (click here for the pancake recipe) this morning thinking of you and your talents as i laid down the peach slices. thank you. i know i've been away for a while, and i've truly missed being here. truth is, my grandma is not well. she is really not well at all, and i've been sad. she is too far away from me, and it's been extremely difficult to come here and talk about food, when all i can think of is being with her. she is the reason i love cooking and eating, the reason i know anything about flavor, the reason i actually enjoy slicing and dicing and generally all manners of "playing" with fruits and vegetables, the reason i love to feed my family more than anything, the reason i am obsessed with a certain standard and order in my kitchen, and more than anything, the reason i enjoy the simple pleasures-the little things she taught me to appreciate. when a bird sits on the windowsill i think of her, as she always pointed them out, talked to them tenderly, and believed they brought good luck. when i see fruits on trees or soft grape leaves i think of her, because she could never walk by any of them without picking some for us to taste or smell (the leaves she used to make the most tender and delicious dolmas). I miss her terribly, but I said that already, didn’t i?
