Tabbouleh and Pita

I didn't realize that parsley was something one could actually eat until I was well into my twenties. I was living in a city I felt completely uncomfortable in, having a business lunch with someone I was less than fond of. She took me to a Lebanese place around the corner from my office and ordered tabbouleh --a kind of Lebanese parsley and bulgur salad -- and made me promise to try it. It came to us in a big bowl with plenty of warm, freshly baked pitas to wrap it in. I took one look at it and said, "You expect me to eat that? Parsley?" I thought parsley was something people stuck on top of their grilled cheese sandwich to make it look interesting. But I tried it. Tabbouleh was one of those foods that surprised me. It was light, and flavorful, and unlike anything I'd eaten so far. At a time when I wanted to be anywhere else on the planet than Denver, tabbouleh and fresh pita let me live in Lebanon for a little while.

I tried making it at home once, but that was before I discovered the wonder that is sharp, quality cooking knives; it is nearly impossible to bungle tabbouleh, since all it requires is for you to chop up a lot of stuff and throw it in a bowl, but I managed to bungle it. My knives at the time were just not good enough to chop the parsley finely. Josh even asked me if I was intentionally trying to choke him. I recently bought myself a decent knife, and the instant I realized what it was capable of, I thought Now I can make tabbouleh.


Tabbouleh is not something I follow a recipe for; to be more precise, tabbouleh is something I follow about six recipes for. Indeed I had at least two cookbooks open on the counter when I made it tonight. It is just a little bit of bulgur, cucumber, tomato, and green onions, and a whole lot of parsley coated in olive oil and lemon juice. I like to add feta, too, but Jess is lactose intolerant and I wanted him to be able to have some, if he chose.

And because tabbouleh is not worth eating without a good pita, I made some of that, too. I didn't have time to wait for a leavened version to rise, so I made an unleavened, pan cooked version instead.

The result is a lovely, soft bread that is a little more tortilla than traditional puffy pita, but oh, yum.

*

Jess:coming home while the fan is going so I don't set the fire alarm off Why do you have to make so much noise?

Allycen: I don't know, why do you have to be a jerk all the time?

Jess: Oh, c'mon, what would you do if I walked in and said, 'Wow, you're cooking something delicious, thank goodness'?

Allycen: I would cry with happiness.

Jess: And what kind of a friend would I be if I made you cry?