Wednesday, January 28, 2015

The Spice Road: From Lebanon to Mongolia

I have lived half of my life around the Mediterranean Sea and Arabian Gulf. Among the dearest memories are those about food and the joie de vivre preparing, cooking and sharing food brings to social interactions. But more than food, my olfactile memories are about spices while preparing the food.

As a kid, then a young man I could not think of any kitchen without the aromatic presence of cumin, cloves, cardamom and anise. Rice was just rice without saffron; lamb lost its identity without cloves and garlic; morning coffee had to have cardamom in it; and evening coffee rose water.  As such, food and its preparation have been part of my appreciation, celebration and enjoyment of many cultures and societies I have had the privilege to be part of, be adopted by, and miss them when life took me from continent to continent.

But, like the ancient travelers of the Silk Road, I have taken the spices or at least the recipes with me. I still cook; experiment and love gatherings when from fish to lamb to hare, my new culinary creations are tried and often enjoyed… (1)

… So it was no surprise that when I saw the book “Cumin, Camels, and Caravans: A Spice Odyssey” (2) by Gary Paul Nabhan I decided to read it on a foggy January morning.

It is a very well researched book on the origins of spice trade. But the main thesis of the book is that the Silk Road and Spice Road had unified many parts of the world through culinary and economic factors. He shows recipes in Mongolia that are identical to recipes in Morocco or Lebanon; and spices that are commonly used both for medicinal and culinary purposes.  In some ways spices were the vectors through which a “culinary colonialism” took place with grand and sometimes not so desirable consequences.  For example saffron weighs less than gold but was worth multiple times more. Hence 600 pounds of saffron on a camel’s back were a true treasure and pushed merchants to cross deserts and continents. Unfortunately the wealth from spices also was a factor in military colonization and wars.

While many of the arguments and ethno-botanical analyses were not totally new to me, the story of Frankincense was a true discovery. This gum that oozes from tree trunks in the Nejd of Southern Oman has influenced my childhood. Indeed this fragrant, aromatic resin is used as an air purifier and religious ceremonial incense in many cultures, and has a central role in the Orthodox Gregorian church, including Armenian. As a kid I recall my grandfather burning Frankincense in a silver, ornate burner he had brought with him from Konya. I still have that burner, but no incense had been burned in it for decades… Here is the Frankincense (called Khoung in Armenian) burner of my grandfather:




As I read the book, I also realized that many of the traditions of the Silk and Spice Road are still continued both in recipes, songs, and attitudes toward life. As a photographer I have taken pictures in the ancient world and now I realize they still represent many aspects of what the book describes the historical traditions associated with cumin, camels and caravans.

So I went to my pictures from Morocco and chose a few to illustrate.

Gary P. Nabhan describes cities in the desert where spices were traded along the Spice Road. The places where the trade took place were called funduk, which made me smile as that is today the word used for “hotel” in Arabic. Now I know the origin of that word—it was the place where traders stayed, their camels got a rest, and they did business. What a wonderful historical testimonial! I have taken a picture of a small town in Morocco with a panoramic lens. Now for me that is the funduk, well preserved.



Camels have to be part of the picture, and I do have a couple from near the Sahel. Time seems to have stopped in those pictures.








The market, or souk, is still there and again, spices and vegetables are sold in the same context and tradition as what is believed to be the case thousands of years ago. Here is a spice merchant and streets sellers of vegetables and roots. Were those pictures taken a couple of thousand years ago?




… The author ends the book by saying:
We must wake up and smell the incense – the kind that pervades the air where we live, among those for whom we care.

I now smell the incense through my olfactile memories, among the memories of all those who were part of my life and who are not of this world anymore. A life lived in celebration of togetherness where cumin, frankincense and clove were part of the love we shared.

January 28, 2015
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2015

(1)   For those of you who read French, the last chapters of my new book “A Quand le Vol Paris- Ėrevan?”(2014) have some of my recipes. Here is the link to the description of the book: http://vahezen.blogspot.com/2014/04/this-posting-will-be-different-from-my.html

(2)   Gary Paul Nabhan “Cumin, Camels, and Caravans: A Spice Odyssey”. University of California Press, pp.305, 2014.

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