Tombs, Alleyways, and a Big Pile ‘o Carbs – My Happy Cairo Recap

This is not Club Med, that’s for sure. But Egypt is obviously full of wonders – it’s got the stuff I’ve dreamed of seeing for as long as I can remember. You want mummies? They got ‘em. Tombs? Scads. Oh, and the best, cheapest meal I’ve ever eaten.

We visited temples and tombs. We saw Hatshepsut’s mountainside funeral temple, with most of the references to the woman king scratched out by her cranky stepson. We floated on the Nile in a felucca, the Egyptian sailboat. We went back to the temples at Karnak during the morning and got a chance to see its massive columns in full sun. We hunkered down and descended the hundred meter tunnel to the tomb inside the red pyramid at Dahshur (just next to the bent one). This journey requires pretty good quads and a willingness to shuffle and squat deep into a very narrow cave. The place also reeks of ammonia. Our guide Mina said that this was the byproduct of the embalming fluids from the mummies. It’s possible that it’s also just pee. If you have any problems with claustrophobia, don’t do this. If you have trouble bending, don’t do this. If you don’t like the smell of several thousand year old embalming fluid (or pee) don’t do this. Of course the tomb was raided thousands of years ago. At some point, the pharaohs realized that the pyramids they were building were gigantic billboards that read, “steal my stuff here.”

With our guide Mina at the Sphinx.

With our guide Mina at the Sphinx.

They finally got the memo at Luxor, where they hid their booty deep underground in the Valley of the Kings on the west bank of the Nile. Of course, with the exception of Tut, almost everything from these tombs was looted and is gone forever. Our buddy Bob tells us that there are around twenty tombs that are unaccounted for just in Valley of the Kings. For all we know, they’re right there near the other sixty some-odd tombs. In fact, Howard Carter’s team discovered King Tut’s tomb entirely by accident. I’m told that one tomb was discovered by an Egyptian donkey, which stepped into a hole to its knee, revealing an ancient wonder. Someday, someone will make a discovery that will put the Tut stuff to shame. Won’t that be exciting?

We wandered around the Egyptian Museum of Antiquities, which may be the world’s worst museum with the world’s best collection. It’s a jumble of stuff with not much rhyme or reason, but what stuff there is! Here’s a hallway full of painted burial caskets. There’s a gallery full of Tut’s jewels. What is half this stuff? Who knows? Sometimes you’re lucky and there’s a yellowed piece of paper with a brief description that was typed on an actual typewriter decades ago. Turn a corner and there it is – the King Tut exhibit. You may have paid twenty five bucks to see a small portion of it on one of its world tours. Well, here’s all of it – the famous golden head and everything – almost hiding in the back of the museum. It’s kind of like Egypt itself – chaotic and disorganized, but dazzling if you give it a chance.

A fabulous display at the Egyptian Museum

A fabulous display at the Egyptian Museum

You never know what you’re about to discover. We were led by a clever tout through Islamic Cairo – a warren of alleyways where all manner of commerce is conducted. He took us into the back room of a printing shop that was churning out Korans, we visited a guy making lamps with a rusty old acetylene torch (surprise, surprise, they were for sale!), and we ended up in the spice market. This stuff may be fascinating to tourists, but the alleys were packed with locals, most of whom (but not all) greeted us with a smile or a wave. This was not Disneyland Cairo, that’s for sure.

Koran factory in Islamic Cairo

Koran factory in Islamic Cairo

The three main pyramids at Giza are all that, but you have to work at it a bit. They used to be out of town, in the desert, a few miles from the city’s border, but the city has been built out to meet the pyramids. It’s a little weird. You approach these epic structures from a crowded parking lot that now sits on the edge of town. But wander to the far side of the pyramids, the part that still touches the desert, and you can look at these amazing monoliths as people have for thousands and thousands of years. Just a few million stones stacked on top of each other and a world of sand. Every few minutes a camel walks by. I could have just sat there all day and just looked at it.

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We packed in a ton of stuff in Egypt. Here’s a rundown of the sites:

Luxor

  • The sound and light show at Karnak
  • Luxor Museum
  • Habu Temple (Funeral temple of Ramses III)
  • Deir al-Madina (temple built for themselves by the workers who constructed the tombs of the Valley of the Kings)
  • Karnak Temple
  • Luxor Temple
  • Valley of the Kings
  • Al-Deir Al_Bahari Temple (King Hatshepsut’s funeral temple)

Edfu

  • Edfu Temple
  • Kom Ombu Temple (Temple built to appease the Nile crocodiles. I have a feeling it didn’t work.)

Aswan

  • Aswan High Dam
  • Unfinished Obelisk (they spent six months carving out a gargantuan piece of pink granite, but it cracked, so they left it there)
  • Philae Temple

Cairo

  • Egyptian Museum of Antiquities
  • Pyramids of Imhotep and Saqqara
  • Red and Bent Pyramids at Dahshur
  • Giza Pyramids
  • Ibn Tulun Mosque
  • Saint Virgin Mary’s Coptic Orthodox Church (where Jesus, Mary, and Joseph were said to have lived after they fled Bethlehem)
  • Ben Ezra Synagogue (Oldest synagogue in Cairo. Not sure if they can get a minyan.)
  • El-Tanoura Sufi Troupe (Otherwise known as Dervishes – one dude spun for over half an hour without tossing his cookies. Better than the Istanbul Dervishes by a lot.)

You may have noticed that I have not said anything about the food. In general, the cuisine borrows heavily from the countries along the Mediterranean. There’s baba ganoush, tabouli, hummus, some very good falafel and the like. I love that stuff, but you can get it anywhere. I did eat a stuffed pigeon, which tasted a bit like duck.

Taste like a winged rat!

I dare you not to think about Washington Square Park or Piazza San Marco.

What I’d never seen before is this wonder of wonders called koshery. Our houseboat landlord Dan turned us on to this, and my life may never be the same. Koshery is street food, served at stalls and in very humble restaurants all over Cairo. It’s a bowl of assorted grains – a mixture of rice, lentils, tiny macaroni tubes, hunks of broken spaghetti, and bits of toasted spaghetti that resemble Spanish fideos. Dr. Atkins is surely spinning in his grave. It’s topped with this out of this world tangy vinegary tomato sauce, crispy fried onions, a bit of garlicky oil, and a fiery hot chili paste that will sear your soul if properly applied. On our first night back from Luxor I navigated myself across our busy street, found the koshery place, managed to communicate my order to the fellow at the register, and figured out how to retrieve my order from the guy at the counter. That stuff is stressful, but oh was it worth it. The total bill for two orders? Twelve Egyptian Pounds, or $1.68. A dollar sixty frigging eight. For you humanities types, that’s eighty four cents per order. We had so much left over that we ate it the next morning for breakfast with a poached egg on top, and I can’t remember ever being so happy. I can’t wait to get back to the states and start making koshery. In fact, I dug up a recipe online, and here you go. Someone out there make this and tell me how it was.

It may look like a dog's dinner, but oh my good heavens is this good!

It may look like a dog’s dinner, but oh my good heavens is this good!

Egypt was a marvel. It was exhausting, frustrating, wondrous, and very, very illuminating. We are glad to leave – there’s only so much of this you can take at one time – but I will never forget the people we’ve met and the places we’ve seen. I’ll be back, inshallah.

The ultimate Thanksgiving destination – Abu Dhabi!

Let’s just say you have a week to kill and you decide to fly to Abu Dhabi to spend it with people you barely know. It’s your wife’s friend and her husband. You’ve had dinner all together exactly once. What could possibly go wrong?

It is impossible to plan a nine month journey with too much precision. Things happen. Plans change. When we drew up our around the world wish list, Abu Dhabi was probably not in the top fifty, and yet, here I sit, poolside, in Abu Dhabi. In the words of David Byrne, “How did I get here?”

Allow me to explain.

Through nobody’s fault at all, we had a hole in our schedule.

Somewhere along the line, Janine’s friend Kathy invited us to visit her, her husband Brian, and their dog Rupert in Abu Dhabi. I think she said something like, “You should come visit us in Abu Dhabi sometime,” which Janine interpreted to mean, “Please invite yourselves to Abu Dhabi for a week when you have a hole in your schedule.”

It’s a relatively short flight from Istanbul and we were hoping they’d say yes.

Kathy graciously accepted Janine’s proposal, but let us know that she and Brian would be leaving mid-week for a vacation to Sri Lanka. Even so, they encouraged us to stay at the apartment after they left, which worked out well for us and allowed us the opportunity to take care of Rupert P. Kleiver, their loveable, five year old Black Mouth Cur.

Think about it. Janine and Kathy met at a conference and stayed in touch, but that was about it. They have really only seen each other a couple of times. We all had dinner together in New York once, but I doubt Brian or I could have picked each other out in a lineup of one guy. And now we were signed up for a week of close contact and we were also on the hook to make sure that their beloved dog didn’t run away or wreck the place or bite some kid.

As I look back, if you will pardon my French, this had the makings of a real shitshow.

And let this be a lesson to you people.

Every so often a truly bad idea has a happy ending.

This could have been the week from hell, but as it turned out we had a terrific time. There were many boy-boy/girl-girl Men are like Mars, Women are Like Venus moments. While the four of us are all fabulously modern with regard to gender roles and such, it is also true that the boys played golf and the girls had their toes done.

Thanksgiving was brilliant. Kathy made a stunning sweet potato and apple soup, and Brian made a turkey roulade, mashed potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts with pancetta, stuffing (on top of which he roasted a turkey leg and thigh – I must try that someday), a pecan pie, and a pumpkin pie. I made an apple pie (although Brian had already made the crust, which was excellent).

When I woke up on New Year’s Day 2014, I would scarcely have imagined that I’d be having Thanksgiving dinner in the United Arab Emirates with people I barely know, but that’s life for you, isn’t it?

(By the way, if you’re interested in reading more cultural fish out of water in Abu Dhabi-type stuff, check out Kathy’s terrific blog, Blonde in ‘bu Dhabi)

Thanksgiving, Abu Dhabi style

Thanksgiving, Abu Dhabi style

I didn’t have much of a mental picture of Abu Dhabi. I know that its next door neighbor Dubai is famous for its tall buildings and Vegas-y vibe, with a Middle East twist, but I had no sense of what Abu Dhabi would be like. Abu Dhabi is much different. It has tall buildings and a Miami vibe with a Middle East twist.

Abu Dhabi under construction

Sometimes it seems that there are more cranes than people.

The weather is lovely this time of year, topping out in the low 80s. (Don’t come in summer, when it gets up to 130. No, that’s not a typo). After flatlining during the downturn, there are once again cranes everywhere. It’s a city of outsiders – only about a third of the population are from the Arabian peninsula.

But it is nevertheless a very Arabian Muslim city. Many women are fully covered and wherever you look you see men in the familiar white robe called a thawb.

The call to prayer emits from speakers around the city five times a day. The workweek is Sunday through Thursday.

In the UAE you have to go to a separate store to buy alcohol (Wait! That’s also true in New York and Maryland.) and it’s only served in hotels. Certain supermarkets sell pork, but to get to the pork products, you have to enter the “pork room,” which brings to mind the curtained-off section of the video store (remember them?) that had the dirty movies.

The Pork Room

Behind this door is a world of pork.

At the same time, the supermarkets are chockablock with familiar foods, from taco shells to Hellman’s mayonnaise. The malls (and there are tons of them) have just about every western product you can think of, including a Shake Shack (or, if you will, Sheik Shack, har har). You can live here indefinitely without having to learn a word of Arabic.

The Sheik Shack

Sheik Shack

There is no shortage of national pride here. Our visit coincided with National Day, which celebrates the unification of seven emirates (including Dubai, Abu Dhabi, and five others that I hadn’t heard of) into one administrative body independent of the British, who ran the place until 1971.

The UAE flag was everywhere, and people have taken to draping their cars with those vinyl wrappers that you normally see on buses and trains. Most incorporate the suave if slightly grumpy visage of the UAE’s George Washington, Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan, who was the federation’s first president.

National pride, UAE style.

National pride, UAE style.

The UAE’s version of the Blue Angels flew overhead, streaming the national colors in their contrails. We watched a fireworks display that would have impressed the Grucci brothers. It was Thanksgiving and Fourth of July rolled into one.

We did not do a ton of sightseeing, but what we saw was impressive.

The Grand Mosque, which was completed in 2007, is the eighth largest mosque in the world. It took eleven years to complete, and it’s full of notable features. The Persian carpet is more than 1.3 acres and has more than 2 billion knots. Its largest chandelier (there are seven) is the third largest in the world. The list goes on. In short, this is a big, brash mosque.

Inside the Grand Mosque, Abu Dhabi

Inside the Grand Mosque, Abu Dhabi

We also toured the Grand Mosque’s secular counterpart – the Emirates Palace Hotel. This is the building that oil built, like much the rest of the great structures of Dubai and Abu Dhabi. Where the region once produced fish and pearls (and sand), by an accident of prehistoric happenstance, this place is now fabulously wealthy. The decision to make the UAE a tourist and shopping destination represents a realization that the wells will someday run dry. For the world’s rich and famous, the Emirates Palace is as good a place as any to efficiently relieve yourself of excess capital. The three room sultan’s suites (there are a bunch of them) are more than seven thousand square feet, they rent for about $16,000 a night, and they are regularly occupied. In the lobby, you can have a cappuccino topped with gold leaf (I opted for the humble camel’s milk version) and there is a vending machine that dispenses gold necklaces.

Yep, a gold vending machine.

Yep, a gold vending machine.

Abu Dhabi and Dubai may seem gaudy and excessive, but who are we Americans to judge? After all, Business Week says that Americans spend over forty billion dollars a year on weight loss products. I won’t be making a habit of gold leaf cappuccinos, but this place is similar enough to our own part of the world to be familiar but different enough to set your cultural gyroscope spinning just out of control enough to make you pretty dizzy.

I like places that do that.

Speaking of spinning cultural gyroscopes, our next stop is Cairo.

The breakfast you must eat before you die, and tales of delectable things in Turkey on Turkey day.

I sing a song of simit – the world’s best bagel.

If there is an afterlife, and I’m invited to attend, and I end up in the good afterlife, I fully expect to begin each and every day of it with a breakfast of simit and kaymak. Yes, kiddies, on Turkey day we talk turkey about Turkish food.

During the first few days of our trip, we were stopped by some imaginary force field from breaching the walls that keep all the tourists inside the old city of Sultanahmet. There you can see the major sites, but with the exception of some good street food, you will not eat well.

Let’s start with simit. Basically, simit is a Turkish bagel. What songs I sing about simit! It’s chewy with a slightly crunchy crust. It’s not as doughy as a New York bagel, but I’m going to say this in public – it’s every bit as good as a New York bagel, if not better. There, I said it. I could get stopped at Kennedy airport for that, but the truth will set me free. What’s more, unlike back home, where only a few places know how to make a bagel anymore, simit is good wherever you get it. Walk down any street in Turkey, (even in the tourist zone, actually) and some guy with a pushcart will sell you the best damn bagel you’ve ever eaten. These round little joyful gluten and carb delivery devices come plain or with sesame seeds. That’s it. No blueberry apple cinnamon swirl simits here, folks. My friend Rich Neimand, whose Bagel Defense Fund seeks to restore the purity of the American bagel, will find no need to expand his operation into Turkey.

A humble simit cart

A humble simit cart

Now what about this kaymak? I discovered it when I was tucking into a fabulously good Turkish breakfast. Turkish breakfast is mostly a savory affair, with dashes of sweetness thrown in. They drop a lazy susan in front of you full of olives and cheeses and breads, a pan of fried eggs, some yogurt, and they wish you well. There’s a section of the spinning tray devoted to spreads of all sorts. There’s usually honey and nutella, but one day I was gifted with this fluffy, white substance that had the bright whiteness and creamy consistency of cream cheese, but it was sweeter and less cheesy. As an experiment, I spread a little bit on my simit and at that moment I discovered what it means to be alive. But what was this stuff? The waiter said it was yogurt butter, but that didn’t sound right. Turns out it’s clotted cream made from the milk of water buffalo. It’s like a sweet, creamy, spreadable burrata, but so much better.

A Turkish breakfast. The kaymak is the white stuff in the upper right.

A Turkish breakfast. The kaymak is the white stuff in the upper right.

Water Buffalo Clotted Cream!! I know, right? The world needs to know. I mean, crikey, people are practically printing their own money in San Francisco by selling toast. Toast! Simit and kaymak puts that stuff to shame. Now, it’s very possible that by putting kaymak on my simit I have committed a Turkish culinary crime akin to putting mayonnaise on a pastrami sandwich at Katz’s Deli, but I don’t care. Simit and kaymak, people. It’s the one breakfast you must eat before you die.

Another thing you’ll find wherever you turn is the grandpappy of antioxidants, fresh pomegranate juice. The way they make it is genius in its simplicity – they cut the pomegranate in half and squeeze the juice out using one of those mechanical orange juice press gizmos, which resembles a papal torture device on Borgia. We had a pomegranate tree in Palo Alto and I spent hours seeding those damn things, when I could have spent seconds using some very primitive technology. I mourn for all the pomegranate juice I didn’t drink. In Istanbul, on the other hand, for a few bucks, you get a nice, big glass of Pom Shmabulous.

The pomegranate juice guy

The pomegranate juice guy

After we finally broke free from the old town, where the food options are basically kebab and kebab, we sought out the good stuff – some lovely places that created some very refined plates. Once out of the confinement zone, I wanted to live again, because we ate some really terrific stuff. We went to a place called Munferit, where we had an octopus that was perfectly cooked, pressed into a terrine, sliced thin so it looked like a deep sea mortadella, and topped with a lemony potato salad. Why would you put potato salad on octopus? Beats me, but it worked. We had eggplant sautéed in olive oil and topped with tahini and a tomato salsa. The salsa would have been right at home at a good Mexican restaurant in California. We had absolutely perfectly grilled jumbo prawns on a chickpea puree and drizzled with pomegranate molasses.

Mezzes are great. They’re Turkey’s equivalent of tapas, served in casual taverns called meyhanes. You go in, point at the wall of stuff on the counter, sit down, and eat really well for next to nothing. We had salads of lentils, bulgur, and beans, and we had the Turkish version of macaroni and cheese. The salads were bright and fresh and full of lemon, good olive oil, parsley, and mint. If Turks didn’t smoke so much, between the salads and the pomegranate juice, they’d live forever.

A mess of mezzes

A mess of mezzes

Turkey is an Islamic country (where you will be tossed from your bed every morning at the 5:45 call to prayer if you’ve foolishly forgotten to put in your earplugs), but you can still get a decent drink, especially in Istanbul. We went to the Pera Palace Hotel for martinis – it’s the place where Agatha Christie is said to have written Murder on the Orient Express (at the time, the train’s terminus was Istanbul). We also had Negronis at Istanbul 360, an oh-so-fabulous rooftop bar with a pulsing, techno soundtrack that sounded like a Kimpton hotel lobby, whose cocktails would give New York’s a run for its money, at least on price. I struck up a conversation with a fascinating fellow from Manchester who has been living in Istanbul for seven years and who plans events at the club. This year, he says he has scheduled Boy George and Paris Hilton for appearances. Istanbul is hopping!