bobquasit | Oct. 21st, 2006

Just a quick catch-up about last weekend.

On Saturday we had the "kids" party. Only four out of the ten kids invited from his class could come, but they were enough. The weather was pretty good, so the kids spent a fair amount of time playing out in the back yard. They were literally shouting for joy, playing with balls, foam rockets, and other odd toys they'd brought out of the house. I took a beach ball and hit it straight up into the air; I don't know exactly how high it went, but it was pretty impressive and the kids loved it. Later they played pin the tail on the donkey, and Sebastian won.

The cake was a yellow one from Wright's Dairy, of course; it came in a special container with twelve large yellow-cake cupcakes around it, all of them frosted with white frosting. We had Scooby Doo decorations to put on them, but I had the last-minute brain flash of pulling out a bunch of colored sugar crystals and letting the kids decorate their own cupcakes. Fortunately, we had three different colors, and I picked up a fourth kind that morning. The cupcakes were a big hit. All in all, it was a really nice time.

On Sunday we had the family party, and it was pretty similar; not as many kids, but lots of playing out in the back yard. Amusingly enough, even the adults really loved the big foam rocket.

I barbecued 22 burgers and 12 hot dogs, Teri made lasagna, and Teri's mother brought over a porketta. Sebastian's birthday cake was a sheet cake from Wright's; we'd ordered yellow, but got marble instead, with chocolate pudding filling and really incredible-tasting whipped cream frosting.

While I'm catching up, something from Thursday: Teri and Sebastian picked me up at work that afternoon. I've been dying for Armenian food for quite some time now, so we went to Watertown. There are a lot of Armenian markets there. If you've never been in one, by the way, you really should.

Which momentarily makes me think about ethnicity, and that would be an interesting topic for an entry of its own. As it is...there's something about my own ethnicity that always amuses me. I'm so damned white-bread American, in looks and tone and in so many ways...but my background is Armenian. And when I visit the old family church, or go to Hyastan Camp or to an Armenian market, I really feel it. Yet there's always a part of me that's kind of amazed at my own ethnicity. It's hard to explain. Sometimes it does seem to me - and I hope this doesn't offend anyone - that people without one or more strong ancestral ethnicities must have an empty space in their lives. Which is, of course, a stupid thing to think.

Anyway, we went to Arax market this time, and got two dozen lahmejun (here's a recipe from the New York Times, although I don't know if it's any good).

I looked around for choreg, but couldn't find it. This was pretty amazing; I've never BEEN in an Armenian market that didn't have choreg.

What is it? Basically...mildly sweet bread with sesame seeds and a spice (or spices) that I can't identify (I'll have to ask my mother). It might be something called mahleb. It might include cumin. Whatever it is, it's a very definite flavor.

All too often, choreg comes out too dry. When my mother makes them, they're great (and Sebastian absolutely loves those), but the ones we buy in the market are usually unpleasantly dry before very long. Usually we buy them at Sevan bakery, incidentally.

Anyway, I couldn't resist asking about choreg, and the guy behind the counter told me that they were being baked at that moment. "How much longer?" I asked. He went into the back, and then came out and told me that it would be another five minutes. Teri was waiting back in the car for us (Sebastian had insisted on accompanying me), but I thought she might not kill me for making her wait that long. The guy asked me how many choregs I wanted; they were two for a dollar. "Um...eight," I said. "Ten!" Sebastian countered.

Ten it was.

The other guy behind the counter suggested that I take the 20-pound bag of chunk charwood that I was going to buy and put it in my car while I waited for the choreg. So I did.

Please note that I had NOT yet paid for the charcoal, and the guy knew that (in fact, I pointed it out). It was okay; he trusted me. That felt good. Of course, Sebastian is my passport into the trust of a lot of people.

Anyway, Sebastian and I went to the car, I stowed the charcoal, and then we drove away - ha ha! No, we moved the car closer to the store, and I went back in. After a few more minutes the guy brought the choreg out in a disposable aluminum baking pan; they were too hot to bag, so he gave me a bag to put them in once they'd cooled down and I took them in the pan. I paid for everything and went to the car.

If you've never eaten hot choreg, I'm sorry for you. It's really good. And these were much better than the Sevan ones, big and soft with a delicious slight crunchiness in the crust. Between the three of us I think we ate six of them on the ride home before Sebastian fell asleep in the back.

That night (last night), I stayed up late, catching up on email. Sebastian woke up and I heard him in the hallway. I went over to him, and he said in his startlingly grown-up way, "I woke up."

"What are you doing, bunny boy?"

"Looking for you," he said, lying down on the hall floor and pulling his blanket over himself.

I persuaded him to get up and he came over to our bed. But he started getting more and more awake. He talked me into letting him sleep with his head at the foot of the bed, and then talked me into joining him down there; I moved a pillow for us to share. He asked for a drink of water, two trips to the bathroom, more water, and then another choreg (he hadn't had dinner, since he'd fallen asleep before we got home). I sang to him, which almost always puts him to sleep...not this time, though. I ended up staying up (unwillingly) until well past midnight.

And here I am; it's midnight again, and I'm still awake. And tomorrow is a "Daddy and me" day, too. I think we may go to the Franklin Library book sale. Good night!