Many, many years ago, youngster HG summer vacationed with HG’s family in a Rockaway Beach boarding house yards from the boardwalk, beach and Atlantic ocean. Every weekend, Armenian families would stake out a sandy space next to the boardwalk. The men dug a spacious ditch upon their early arrival and filled it with abundant charcoal. A seasoned lamb was skewered on a special metal apparatus and placed in the pit a modest distance over the charcoal. The charcoal was lit. Throughout the day, the roasting lamb was basted with a marinade and gently rotated (the roasting apparatus had a wheel to do the job). The sea air was filled with appetizing aromas. The Armenians had many plunges in the surf, picking their way through the bodies that jam packed the proletarian beach. The savory lamb was done in mid-afternoon. A dexterous fellow heaped sand on the charcoal to staunch its heat, and, skillfully filled platters with sliced lamb. Eating began. There were juicy sliced tomatoes, Romaine lettuce, an unusual middle eastern potato dish, and bread. There was a flagon of olive oil plus. many jugs of red wine. The meal was civilized–but filled with gusto and laughter. The Armenians set up folding tables and chairs. No plastic–real plates, glasses, silverware and cloth napkins. Young HG was a stealthy voyeur and observed all stages of the cooking and eating. High hopes of getting a taste of that roast lamb. No such luck. The Armenians were meticulous about cleaning up and packing. Much sand on the diminished charcoal. When they left the beach it looked and felt that they were never there. All of these thoughts came to HG last night. Lesley R.’s lovely friend, Diane, is of Armenian heritage and a skilled Armenian cook (Lesley is HG/BSK’s brilliant and thoughtful daughter. HG is living the good life in the Riverside, RI, home she shares with husband Massimo. Meanwhile BSK is in New Mexico preparing HG/BSK’s move to a Providence loft). Diane brought HG and Lesley a fabulous Armenian dinner of soup (Panjarbour), pickled beets and semolina cake. Sublime and welcome meal. HG never tasted anything like the Panjarbour. It contained spinach, red lentils and Armenian hulled wheat, unusual spices and herbs. The soup reached the pinnacle of comfort. HG has always enjoyed Armenian food. A favorite New York restaurant was Ed Berberian’s Balkan-Armenian Restaurant. It was located off Lexington Avenue in the East 20’s. HG ate there often (it was the second restaurant HG took BSK to during courtship more than half a century ago—the first was long closed Bo-Bo’s in Chinatown). With Rockaway memories in mind, HG always ate tasty lamb shish kebabs at Balkan-Armenian plus cheese borek (fabulous fried dumplings), rice pilaf, stuffed grape leaves, chopped eggplant, baklava, etc. Very, very good and very, very inexpensive. Despite a tragic history, Armenians can still enjoy life and bring joy–culinary and spiritual–to others.
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