by Steven Shalowitz

Before, during and after my sight-seeing adventures in Aleppo, my guide, Maan, made sure I indulged in numerous sweet surprises, especially after visits to places like the Baron Hotel, a musty vestige of the city’s past, where Agatha Christie reportedly wrote parts of Murder on the Orient Express. Allepian specialties like Mamounieh–semolina sweetened with sugar and honey, topped with a dollop of soft sweet cheese, and drizzled with crushed pistachios and cinnamon was the type of treasure I was seeking. I once encountered this popular breakfast dish served with a side of savory string cheese to cut some sugar; it certainly made me rethink my morning oatmeal ritual.

Mammounieh

Then there was the baklava – a must have in Aleppo.  There are tremendous variations of this bite-sized treat; some were cigar-shaped and stuffed with nuts, while others took the shape of small crowns or birds’ nests with pistachios in the center.  However it shapes up, Baklava will always be one of my favorites.

 

“Bird’s Nest” Baklava

To wash it all down, street vendors supplied us with Sahlab, which is warm milk boiled with a thickening agent from orchid bulbs, and topped with a dash of cinnamon. Drinking milk in Aleppo seemed fitting since some argue the city’s name is wound in dairy lore. The Arabic name for Aleppo is Halab, and for milk, Haleeb. Some legends suggest that the city’s name is derived from Biblical Abraham who milked his cows in present-day Aleppo during his sojourn through the region.

 

Sahlab

As we nibbled our way through the vast Aleppo souk, sampling colorful nougats, pistachios, and candied almonds, we were drawn in by shopkeepers for glasses of ‘hospitality tea’ and Turkish coffee served by men dashing through with loaded trays of these hot beverages.   These pit-stops were as much about resting our tired feet as they were about hearing the “temptation price” for items like aged olive oil soap (an Allepian specialty) and other “new antique” chochkies. Of course, cross-cultural exchanges ensued as well.  One of the more memorable was with a 20-something fabric-seller who, between puffs of his nargilah (water pipe), and in a perfect American twang, told me how much he enjoys watching pirated Western films and loves Judge Judy “coz she’s a bitch”.

 

Coffee Seller in Aleppo Souk

After my stay in Aleppo I stopped at sweet shops throughout Syria to help propel me through the archeological sites of Apamea, Ugarit, Palmyra, Bosra, the city of Hama with its enormous old wooden water wheels, the imposing Crusader Castle of Krak des Chevaliers, and finally, Damascus, where Syrian hospitality was in full display, much to the detriment of my waistline.

On one occasion, I struck up a conversation with an IT specialist who wanted to practice his English on a microbus and insisted on treating me to ice cream at Bakdash, a Damascus institution in the heart of the Souq Al-Hamidiyya. Beneath the ubiquitous photo of the bearded Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah, the server scooped up the café’s signature gummy-textured ice cream, rolled the vanilla wad in sliced pistachios, and served it with a smile.

 

Ice Cream in Bakdash

As my trip wound down, I realized that while the real Promised Land was just across the Golan Heights, I seemed to have found my own land of Milk & Honey, right here in Syria.

Back in New York, I can sample a variety of sweets like those enjoyed during my trip, thanks to the large Syrian contingent that now calls Brooklyn home and I plan to do just that. But first, I need to visit my dentist.

 

Halawat Al-Jibn

To see Steven’s blog, visit:  www.tastewithyoureyes.com.

Write to Steven at:  steven@stevenshalowitz.com