Kitchen Arabic

Children of immigrants often learn their parents' native tongue before anything else. For Joseph Geha, who grew up in Toledo's Little Syria neighborhood in Ohio, that bond led straight to the kitchen, the place he went first whenever he wanted to find his mother. Today's newcomers can video-chat with relatives back home, but in the earlier "radio days" there was no hot running water, no freezer or refrigerator, and no blender or microwave. A mother spent much of her day at the stove or counter, shelling peas or rolling grape leaves while the dough rose.

Geha's mother took obvious pride in the Syro-Lebanese dishes she made there, including stuffed eggplant, lentil soup, kibbeh served with tahini sauce, shish barak, and sweet sesame cookies that perfumed the house.

Part memoir and part cookbook, the book follows Geha's early years in America and his family's effort to master a new language and unfamiliar customs. It gathers family recipes together with the stories attached to them, joining culture and cooking. His mother's dishes preserved a part of their heritage that, unlike speech, has changed very little over time and distance.

Geha shows how the food of his childhood helped his family through that difficult transition, carrying happiness, comfort, and affection in a form that needs no interpreter.