The first dish placed before us was Turkish kebab, locally called Shawarma. Thinly sliced meat was rolled with pickled cucumbers, tomatoes, and lettuce inside a flatbread. At first glance, it looked quite similar to a Chinese jianbing wrap.
I took a bite, chewing for what felt like ages. "This meat's kinda dry and tough."
"That's why I said this place is authentic," Senior Quinn Yin explained. "Muslims consider pigs unclean, so they avoid pork. Similarly, religious beliefs make them think animal blood is impure. The blood has to be completely drained before cooking. So, meat cooked like this ends up dry and hard because it lacks its juices. You need fresh, juicy salads to balance it."
"Oh, so that's why," I murmured. "Religious beliefs are such peculiar things." I then tried a blob of something that looked like plaster mixed with cement powder – and it tasted similarly chalky. "And what's this?"
"That's an Arab favorite," Quinn Yin said. "Hummus. Mashed chickpeas blended with olive oil and lemon juice. It's considered a very appetizing dish in the Middle East, quite nutritious, though I've never warmed up to it."
"Shouldn't appetizers come first?"
"Middle Eastern meals are more casual; they don't follow a strict course order like French haute cuisine," Quinn Yin replied with a smile. She then pointed out the other dishes on our table, each seasoned with various exotic spices. Saffron, cumin, olives, and various herbs were the main flavorings. Pickles were served alongside bread for dipping. While still somewhat unfamiliar, overall, the Middle Eastern food felt closer to Chinese cuisine than I'd expected. Compared to European cooking, which relies heavily on butter and cheese, the Middle Eastern flavors were much cleaner and fresher. I particularly liked one dish called Shakshouka – essentially the Middle Eastern version of scrambled eggs with tomatoes, but elevated with their secret sauce and served with a vegetable salad. The whole dish tasted unexpectedly sophisticated.
As our meal neared its end, Senior Quinn Yin poured us glasses of camel milk, a knowing smirk playing on her lips as she handed them over. "Here, try this."
I stared at the thick, stark white liquid swirling in my glass. It looked like super-concentrated cow's milk, making me hesitate. But, recalling its legendary nutritional value, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and chugged a big mouthful! The taste… sour and astringent with a salty tang, yet intensely milky, leaving my tongue practically tingling. Definitely… unforgettable.
Predictably, that very night, both Lia and I found our stomachs rebelling violently. Quinn Yin had warned us: first-time camel milk drinkers often get diarrhea, sometimes quite severe. She claimed it had a 'detoxifying' effect. While technically true, I strongly suspected this "enthusiastic recommendation" – after Lia's gossip about Yan – was Quinn Yin's subtle revenge!
Consequently, the next day, I dragged my thoroughly depleted self to my first graduate class.
Lia wasn't in my program, so we split up once inside the building. Leaning heavily on the staircase railing, I shuffled upwards step by painful step, feeling as flimsy and insubstantial as a piece of paper, liable to be blown over by the slightest breeze.
Gasping for breath, I finally stumbled into the classroom before I'd even caught it. Suddenly, a familiar figure caught my eye. My whole body stiffened, my fatigue instantly forgotten!
Those golden-brown eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips, with slightly curled, long lashes… It was him! The unbelievably handsome man in the white thobe I'd seen twice yesterday! He was sitting right there in the classroom, chatting and laughing with Ayub beside him.