Thursday, March 3, 2011

Where I reveal my love of Baba Ghanouj

Growing up, my dad's best friend was a Lebanese man named Salim. He's the reason I used to get cucumbers and slices of cheese with pita in my lunch when everyone else was eating Handisnacks and Dunkaroos (Remember Dunkaroos?!). We were eating hummus way before it was popular to be eating hummus. As a result, some of my fond food memories from childhood involve middle eastern foods.
Am I the only person who thinks of Baba Ghanouj as a comfort food?

Yes, that is a side of snap peas. Yes, you are jealous.

So, the week after my delightful Valentimes was epically rehearsal filled.  Because the Music of the Spirit concert with the Pittsburgh Symphony was Thursday night, we had production rehearsals every day, which needed to be balanced with opera rehearsals. So, after work, I got in my car and went straight to singing.
I'll say this now, and I hope to say it again:
It makes me so unbelievably happy to be exhausted by singing so much good music.
 This did not leave me a bunch of time for food or normal living however. So I had to cram deliciousness into small bursts.  Which I did with Baba more than once that week.

One of the most rewarding things about being a musician is the amazing company you get to keep. In the Mendelssohn choir, we not only sing some of the greatest music in the world, but we get to sing it with some of the greatest people you will ever meet. Which is why I like spending time with as many Mendelfriends as I can. 
Music of the Spirit included Hadyn's Te Deum (which I grew to absolutely love), the Tuba Mirum of the Berlioz Requiem (multiple brass choirs!), and end of Mahler's second symphony (Holy Shit). Needless to say, I was in tears at the end of the concert.

I needed some sustenance and comradery and at least two manhattans after such an emotionally draining evening. I got all three at Harris Grill:

More Baba.

I am eternally grateful to my friends, who did not mind that I completely reeked of garlic for the rest of that evening.

No comments:

Post a Comment