48 books
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Lebanese
“
The first time someone suggested that I write about my adventures was when I had just arrived in Lebanon. He looked at me with sincere curiosity, puzzled too. We were seated in a large kitchen at a friend’s house, having lunch. It was a beautiful yellow brick house, on top of a hill, very bright, the garden in bloom, wonderful colors and my story of poverty and gloom in Kosovo couldn’t be a greater contrast. We drank lovely Lebanese white wine, ate warm flatbread with labneh, foul, sujuk, and pl
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― Your phone, my life: Or, how did that phone land in your hand?
― Your phone, my life: Or, how did that phone land in your hand?
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Breakfast in a rather dingy hotel room, near the Roman ruins of Baalbek in eastern Lebanon. There are bowls of yoghurt; blue-and-white jugs of fresh mint, a basket of dimpled sheets of warm flatbread folded like delicate manuscripts, and pots of honey and fig jam. A lone brick of stale Madeira cake sits on an oval white plate. It is labelled 'English.
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― A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
― A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy… A Memoir of Sorts
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