A Kitcheny Gift

I needed to figure out what to get Donia as a gift. I needed something different, no too bulky to fly with me and something she'd constantly use and remember me when she does! You know, something personal. And no, not that personal.

I went to mom for help, I knew I could count on her fresh and creative ideas. She did not disappoint.

Mom: Mariam come here for a sec.
Me: na3am mama
Mom: I think I got an idea for Donia's gift. You said you wanted something funny, so I was thinking..
Me: oh oh oh I know I know, TOILET PAPER? :D

You should have seen the look she gave me.
Me: Oops. My bad. I mistook you for dalia. It's, um, a private joke. Kindly ignore.

Mom (recovering): Why don't you get her a cookbook! And cute mitts and apron!

I loved the idea. Just what I had in mind. I know for a fact that Donia could definitely use a cookbook. I still laugh when I remember her adventures with her dad in the kitchen when her mom travelled one time. Or back when she visited me 2 years ago. She asked me to teach her my chocolate chip cookies. I thought it would be best to teach her "hands on". So I got all the ingredients and we both spent 2 hours in the kitchen, not because the cookies take that much, but because when we're together it does. She wrote every single thing I did and helped me all through.

Throughout the experience, we even created our own reality TV show called "Otbokh witgawwiz"- basically a fictitious show that takes place in a kitchen and each episode the show host would invite a marriageable girl. This girl has 30 minutes to demonstrate her cooking skills to land herself a husband. Isn't that idea gold? Definitely better than The Bachelorette. Pity no one takes me and Donia seriously. Cuz this could work. I have seen far worst reality shows (not that I watch them, it is against my principals:P) that had audiences flocking like flies on a piece of candy.
But we only did that pilot episode. I don't remember laughing as hard anytime in my life. Here's an excerpt to help you visualise the sanity level (or lack of it thereof):
"wi dilwa2ti bin7ot il sokkar il abyad 3ashan ana 3ayza il 3arees abyad. Ou kaman bin7ot sokkar bonni 3ashan law kan asmar, ma fish mashakel kaman"

Man. Good days, good days. On a second thought, I am glad no one takes us seriously.

Anyway, back to the cookie recipe. So she writes everything down and I am proud of my new promising student. A month later she sends me an email telling me that she tried the recipe but there was a little problem. Okay a big problem. Okay two big problems.
She first forgot to leave space between the cookies on the cookie sheet (allowing space to grow larger when baked), instead placing them directly next to each other. And she over baked them. Big time.
So instead of having individually chewy cookies. She had one huge hard "cookie" of an inedible nature. She of course had to dispose of it. I'm fine with all that. My problem is that when her family complained about the outcome, she didn't own up to it. Instead she faked a puzzled look and said "hmmm... into mish 7ataklooh? ghareebah. Di mariam bti3malo kida bil zabt ou kol il nas byaklooh 3indaha".

Definitely needs a cook book. And a brand new CONSCIENCE to go with it. How dare she smudge my glowing cookie baking reputation. Crazy woman.

And that is how I ended up spending this morning looking for cook books and kitchen stuff. I began with the library and I stumbled upon this book. I was first drawn to the fact that the chef sounded like he was Egyptian, and also because I found him to vaguely resemble my other friend's husband. So I felt like I knew him and could trust his culinary skills (not that my friend's husband cooks or anything! But whatever).
Of course had I been a viewer of TV in general and Arabic satellite channels in particular I would've no doubt have seen his cooking shows and recognized his book. But I didn't. I bought the book purely for the above two reasons. He looked like a nice person and he was Egyptian.

Turns out Chef Osama El Sayed, is adored by millions, not least of which are Egyptians themselves. I was informed so through a phone call with my other Egyptian friend, Samar. I then googled him and turns out it's true. Hey he even cooked for Bill Clinton. Oh and doesn't seem like the type that would mess up his friend's cookie recipe and blame it on his friend. Maybe he'll be good influence.

I still haven't had much success with the apron and mitts, I need them to be cute. I'll try The One store tomorrow maybe, I love their stuff.

Hopefully she'll like her gifts:) They're no toilet paper, but I don't think she's ready for that just yet. Besides, getting her a cookbook and apron would surely ensure me a spot in her husband's good books. Or completely write me off after she "experiments" with the book and blames the outcome on me, the gift provider. Yikes.