Family Reunion

Labor Day Weekend means the Hamet Family Reunion in Fresno, California for us. Yes, we will miss the Begonia Festival in Capitola. No, we won't be at the R-Wild Horse Ranch riding our horses, participating in/or helping with the last Gymkhana of the season.

Fresno!? People say. Won't it be hot? What the h*** is in Fresno, you live at the beach?

My husband's mother's family is from Hamet, Lebanon. His grandparents came from the 'old country', Situ (grandmpther) had exotic tales of Lebanon and Ellis Island on the rare occasions I heard her speak of them. In 1960 or '61 the family started meeting Labor Weekend, first in San Mateo, then back to Fresno. Where it all began, in America.

Like most brown skinned immigrants to California, the Daher's, Khourie's, Ayoob's and other relatives began their American dreams as migrant farm workers in the Central Valley, more specifically, Fresno. Boxers, barbers, hairdressers, contractors, pilots, restaurateurs, farmers, war heroes, and more. The families grew and contributed through their labors (remember it is Labor Day) to their new home, this great nation of ours. San Mateo and Southern California saw the next wave of emmigration as our family expanded.

Fresno remains a central gathering place, our homecoming.

I married into this family in 1975, embracing my husband's close ties and commitment to family. Did I mention Lebanese food? My WASP upbringing did not prepare me for, nay, I was deprived from such culinary delights as awaited my adult palate. Every holiday, celebration and gathering included homemade pita bread, grape leaves, kibbie, tabouli, humus, baba ghanouj, and more. Shame on me for not knowing all the Lebanese names for the food. I learned from Situ, my husband's grandmother; in her kitchen, note book in hand, becuase none of the recipes were written down, no standard measurements. A hand full, a saucer scoop, just enough. And she always indented a cross in the food and asked for a blessing. An atheist, I do this myself, to honor her, this family, those before and after me.

Food is one of the many fundamental traditions that hold families together. And one I am more than happy to continue. While making tablouli yesterday, not only did feel close to Situ (as I do anytime I use one of her recipes), but I thought my daughter was also making tabouli, perhaps at that very moment, for a Sorority party. Three generations united over a cutting board, continuing the traditions, sharing our bounty with family and friends...except June wasn't in the kitchen that day. Darn the perfect literary moment ruined.

Both my children, June and Steven help me in the kitchen preparing our favorite Lebanese dishes, hearing the stories and creating their own memories.

Several years ago cousin Frances and I started getting together to cook at her place in San Mateo. Not only does she have a delightful, well worn cookbook, but memories of her own Situ's way of cooking and preparing food. Again I am thankful for the opportunity to learn and observe and share. As a dear friend always says ,"many hands make small work". Like generations of women before us, and hopefully men and women after us, we roll grape leaves, mix kibbi, discussing our families and soothing our souls in this time honored tradition.

This weekend we will gather together once again. Play in the pool, laugh and splash, comment on babies and bald spots, graduations and passings. While eating some of the best food the Mediterranean and California can concoct.