Dates.

I love a good date.

Not the dinner and comedy club date (although I do love those, too), but a date.



I'd seen them before. They looked gross to me. Like an oversized raisin or prune. But while on vacation in Egypt, some were attractively displayed on the dessert buffet table on the cruise ship. I ate dessert with nearly every meal while cruising the Nile. Egyptians make some foods VERY good. Usually, it's Egyptian food. Others are a weak representation of another ethnicity's food. An effort, for sure, but almost never a success.

A date torte, for example, was so impressive I asked Ahmed to get the recipe from the chef. It would be a perfect dessert for our wedding reception, even. It was THAT good. Squares of "chocolate mousse", on the other hand, had an odd taste and texture. No thanks.

So I placed a few dates on my plate. My first time tasting a date, I did not expect the pit in the center. I chewed around the pit and was surprised at how sweet and effin' succulent this ugly fruit was. I ate dates with every meal following.

When I got home, I searched for my new found exotic food. Here, we have California medjool dates. They're pretty wrinkly and sometimes dry. Not what I remembered! I found some Algerian dates at the "middle eastern market" in Manchester, but they weren't as good either, but a decent substitute.

I returned to Egypt last May, just weeks before my dad passed away. Dates were not in season. Ahmed came to America in July and I asked for one thing, and one thing only. Dates. Dates were not in season. I've gone one year and two months without an Egyptian date. Will I have one next week? And maybe a dinner and comedy show date, too? I hope so!