|Subject: Re: Torture Me|
In the 1960's, when touring Israel, just about the only place to get a decent meal was in someone's home. Since we didn't know anyone who lived there at the time, we consoled ourselves with the thought that this was one vacation where we would come back having shed a few pounds. At last, after being nearly chicken-schnitzeled to death at the roadside stops on the tour, we discovered the street-corner felafel stand. Balls of fried mashed chickpeas (felafel) loaded into a pita pocket, along with diced Israeli salad, and drizzled with tahini (sesame sauce.) Delicious, cheap, simple.
Now, Israel can proudly boast of sophisticated gourmet fare served with fine domestic wines. But we still get cravings for the taco of the Mideast. And every so often, we still stop at a roadside rest for that occasional schnitzel, just for old time's sake.
Carrie, in balmy, almost above freezing Bardonia