Warak Enab

April 7, 2020

In this time of confinement and physical distancing, I find myself delving into feelings, sensations, smells, and tastes as a way to reflect on what has been lost. Remembering has become a part of my daily routine to cope with the void of time. It seems as though I am trying to hold close all of the images and colors of the country that I left behind some five years ago when I immigrated to Canada. The streets, the sea, and the smell of Jasmine are all packed within me. I also invite back my memories of Tripoli, my home city in Lebanon, and the images of my mother, Meherdicar, who passed away some thirty years ago.

The Sacrifice Feast, the second of two Islamic holidays celebrated worldwide each year, and considered to be the holier of the two, honours the willingness of Ibrahim to sacrifice his son as an act of obedience to God’s command. For me, it always conjures up Meherdicar, shining like a soft star. Indeed, she shined very much like those luminous points in the night sky, authentically, mirroring the meaning of her name, "the other sun.” Meherdicar was this, and more. She always carried on an ephemeral smile that echoed her tenderness, but was largely hidden behind a translucent cloud.

Back then during my childhood and now, whenever my eyes are closed tight, I see her moving around the kitchen, as she did on all those many mornings of the Feast. Outside and above her, the stars, her namesake, are slowly fading. With the growing daylight, she would roll the wine leaves, but now they are stuffed with love. One after another, soft, small, and tiny, she spreads her wine leaves, one roll placed next to her sister. Meherdicar takes her time, she mediates, and adjusts. It is only when she is reassured that all her rolls are resting beautifully within the massive cooker, which raises above her, that Meherdicar would put the fire on as if she is calling upon the gentle warmth of the entire world. Only then, she would slowly add the lemon, subtle and therefore never bitter. She would then season the wine leaves as if she is gathering a deep longing. A cup of coffee maybe two or even three. One cigarette, then another, and always another. Then she would wait.

The smell of her wine leaves would get off the cooker, travel outside the kitchen, open the doors of our dreams. As a guardian angel, the smell reaches out from the balcony into the neighbor’s windows, falling down the stairs into the hearts of any stranger passing by. Hypnotized, people would float up the stairs towards our fourth-floor apartment. There, Meherdicar stood at the corner of life, her cigarette hiding her face, and she would laugh deeply but mutely as if she is looking at our theatre form there, as if she passed right by, just before reality. Like this, Meherdicar would contemplate the love that she will offer us as a soul feast gift. Celebrating the Sacrifice Feast means to me that ephemeral smell of the love of Meherdicar cooked tenderly, slowly, tiring off, and infiltrating into the deepest soul of existence.

Warak Enab, which means wine leaves or leaves of grapes in Arabic, is traditionally stuffed with rice and meat or rice and veggies.

To prepare the stuffing, called "hashwe": Use a non-stick skillet to brown the ground beef/lamb/or any veggie alternative (the quantity is per taste), then add the uncooked short grain white rice. That basically makes up the hashweh. There’s no need to cook the rice, because it will cook in the pot after rolled in the grape wine leaves. You can add seasoning, mainly salt and pepper, to taste.

To prepare the leaves: Normally they are purchased in cans. However, in the past, they were gathered from the bush. They need to be washed, and then boiled until they are softer. The middle stem is removed. When the leaves and the stuffing are ready, it’s time to get rolling. Start by folding the grape leave so the thick stem sticks out, then cut and discard that part. Next, open up the leaf flat on a cutting board and add a heaping teaspoon of stuffing to the middle of the leaf.

To cook the grape leaves: Use a deep pot for cooking the warak enab. Start by layering the pot with olive oil, sliced potatoes and/or tomatoes. Then add the stuffed and rolled grape leaves over them. Repeat the layers. Add lemon juice, a couple slices of lemons, and season with salt and pepper. Then place a small plate on top of the grape leaves to hold everything in place, and add boiling water on top. You want enough to cover the plate. It will all be absorbed by the rice in the cooking process. It will take up to 50 minutes to roll the leaves and another 2 hours to cook them softly and tenderly.

Zeina Ismail-Allouche is a storyteller and autoethnography performer researching the life stories of individuals who have experienced intercountry and transracial adoption at Concordia University.