In a humble kitchen filled with the aroma of spices and the warmth of memories, sat grandpa Hani and his granddaughter Aya. 

Wide-eyed and curious, little Aya asked, “Jedo, why are you going to Lebanon?”

Aya eagerly listened as her grandfather began to share his story. 

“ You see, in Lebanon, we savor the taste of ‘Kibbeh’ crispy on the outside , tender on the inside.

 My favorite place to eat kibbeh at is in a little village in the north of Lebanon called Ehden, Ehden is in the mountains and filled with life especially during the summer time.  

‘kibbeh’ reminds me of summer night family gatherings when I was around your age Aya!”

“Et puis,” he continued, “there’s Man’oushe,’our world famous breakfast specialty. In Lebanon when I wake up in the morning the fist thing I smell is the aroma of fresh dough with za’atar and olive oil cooking, one of my favorite combinations since I was a little boy! The taste of za’atar dances on my taste buds just thinking about it.

Aya’s eyes sparkled, “Tell me more Jedo!”

Grandpa Hani giggled, “ Ah, ma cherie, the ‘mezza’! close your eyes imagine the sounds of waves crashing against the shore you are in a village next the beach in the south of Lebanon called Sour, you are surrounded by friends and family eating ‘hummus’ , ‘baba ghanoush’ and my favorite ‘falafel’. Each and every bite feels like a celebration of flavors in my mouth!”