“According to etymologist Sevan Nişanyan, the Turkish word tel kadayıfı (string-pancake or string-crêpe), referring to the vermicelli-like pastry used in kanafeh and other dishes, is based on the Arabic word qatayif (a pancake or crêpe), and appears at the latest in 1501 in a Turkish-Persian dictionary”. – Wikipedia entry for “Kataifi”
One of Shreesh’s favorite sweets, the “kataïfi” (kanda-ee-fi) is made with shredded phyllo dough stuffed with nuts and spices, then baked with plenty of butter and doused with sweet syrup. It is extremely sweet and crunchy and is seen commonly in most Greek bakeries and pastry shops.
The “Mavro Provato” (Το Μαύρο Πρόβατο) in the Pagrati (Το Παγκράτι) district in Athens has a savory interpretation of this dish, the dough shaped into a vermicelli bird’s nest inside which baked eggplant, smoked cheese and walnuts nestle in perfect harmony, the taste highlighted with a sweet tomato chutney. It is a perfect blend of sweet-sour-smoked-fried flavors melding together flawlessly.
“But why are you learning languages”? “How will you remember all the languages you learn”? We are often asked this. We try to explain that our interest in studying languages is not to become polyglots but in the discovery and appreciation of varied cultures through the languages we learn.
I doubt that we would have ordered the savory kataïfi at the Mavro Provato if we had not requested the Greek menu. (The English translations of Greek dishes is abysmal in most restaurants).The English version “angel hair pasta nest” sounds boring and unappetizing, but the Greek version “Leaves from kavaïfi” piques and tantalizes curiosity. Would we have appreciated the kataïfi as much if we had not known and tasted what the traditional version was like? The appreciation for the transformation of a traditionally sweet dish into savory, the use of ingredients endemic to the dish (walnuts) and to Greek cooking (eggplant and a local cheese) and the perfect balance of soft and crunchy is an expression not just of our time in Greece but of our life experiences.
“Kids, you must try this taverna”, our gourmand friends in Thessaloniki told us. Almost all of their recommendations had been par excellence, so we accompanied them to this taverna. The food was nice, but it failed to evoke in us the same level of reverence as that in our friends. What were we missing? The Greek greens (τα χόρτα) are often boiled wild greens literally swimming in olive oil and lemon juice. Were the greens especially fresh and at their peak? The olive oil and lemon juice perfectly balanced? Was our preference for hearty greens sautéed with lots of thinly sliced garlic, onions and tempered with mustard seeds and spicy peppers interfering with the inability to appreciate a simpler way of preparing them? Whatever the reason, a single mouthful for all of us encapsulated lifelong but very different experiences.
Like the peeling off of layers of an onion to reveal a humble but essential ingredient in most cuisines, we hope to get a deeper understanding of the local psyche, experiences that enrich and educate us. Following the news and social media today, I cannot help but feel that there isn’t a better time for all of us to understand and appreciate another point of view.
I love this story. Thanks for sharing. And yes, language is so much more than a string of words.