Last weekend was the four day Destination Birthday Celebration for my friend Elizabeth.  She had set it up at one of those super-fancy boutique hotels in Miami, Florida, a “see and be seen hotel,” as she described it to me.  The rooms go for $309 per night.  Elizabeth was organizing all the Shabbat meals, but of course there would be the extra stuff like drinks, going out, shopping, and of course the air fare, etc.  I figured the whole weekend would cost me way over a thousand dollars.  The second thing that worried me was the other people she had invited.  I like her mother a lot, and she was going to be there, but I have never felt very comfortable around most of Elizabeth’s friends.  I usually feel slightly out of place, not quite fun enough or stylish enough or interesting enough or cool enough or rich enough to fit in….like a radish, as the saying goes in Hebrew.   But Elizabeth is one of my dearest friends, so I agreed to go. 

As soon as I accepted her invitation, Elizabeth talked me out of going.  “It’s a lot of money,” she exclaimed.  “I feel for you.  I know it would be a big sacrifice.” 

I protested that she is such a good friend, that I wanted to go and celebrate with her, and that I’d figure out a way to pay for it somehow.  But she continued to try to convince me not to go.  I felt very confused.  Why invite me and then right away try to talk me out of it?  In the end, I didn’t go to Miami.  I stayed home in New Haven.  But I conjured up a little bit of Elizabeth’s energy by cooking one of her specialties, which just happens to be the next installment in the The Book of Jewish Food, Lahma bi Agine (Meat Pizzas). 

 

I was very excited about this dish because Elizabeth, who is a superlative cook, makes and presents it to perfection, and it always seemed to be one of those untouchable foods that only experts make.  But I plunged in.  You make the dough by mixing yeast, sugar a little lour and warm water.  Wait about ten minutes until it is frothy. Add flour, salt and three tablespoons of oil and mix well.  Add enough water to make firm dough which you should knead for about ten minutes, until it is soft and stretchy.  Oil a large bowl and put the dough inside, cover with plastic wrap and leave in a warm place for at least two hours. 

For the topping, fry the onions in oil until they are soft.  Put them in a bowl with the rest of the topping ingredients:  a pound and a half of ground lamb, three tablespoons of tamarind paste, sugar and tomato paste and salt.  Mix all of this with a wooden spoon. 

 

Punch down the dough and knead for a few minutes.  Divide it into sixteen pieces, and form them into balls.  On a floured surface roll each piece out as thin as possible.  Place them on an oiled cookie sheet and spread the filling thickly and evenly over each.  Bake the little pizzas at 475 degrees for ten minutes.  Serve them hot. 

 

Do try the tamarind paste by itself.  It is delicious, tangy and sweet, and after you’ve eaten it once you’ll probably want to slather it on everything. 

 

I served the Lahma bi  Agine for Shabbat lunch to friends who brought, between them, six sweet little girls.  My son Moshe has the hots for the five year old, Talya.  She is really cute, but when I questioned him about the difference in their ages he shrugged.  “She’s out of diapers,” he offered

 

Out of diapers:  all you need in a partner. 

 Everyone said they loved the Lahma bi Agine, and my friend Liora, who is Syrian, even commented that it tasted very much like her Mom’s.  I was elated, and it didn’t hurt that I noticed (with the teensiest bit of Schadenfreude) that the weather in Miami was cloudy and cool, with possible rain on the way…………………