We took the bus from Aleppo to Hama after a morning bout of stomach sickness. It may have been the street food for dinner, the 1/2 lb of cherries we devoured (some without washing), or the multiple pieces of baklava we scarfed right before bed (don't tell my paternal grandmother - but it was the best I've ever had!) Whatever the cause, we decided to skip breakfast in hopes that our stomachs would settle.
By four in the afternoon we were feeling pretty good. And starving. We went to lunch with a new friend from Arizona at the Four Norias Restaurant, named so for the ancient norias Hama is famous for.
For this meal, we went all out with mezze and salads. Fattoush, tabouleh, baba gahnoush, and lots of rice and bread. The fattoush is by far my favorite dish when made well. A simple salad of cucumbers and tomatos (maybe bits of cabbage) tossed with crispy fried pita pieces and generously doused in sweet pomegranate sauce. Heavenly.
Our dinner companion was interested in the raw kibbeh after I pointed it out to him. He ordered a plate and offered to share, but I didn't want to push my stomach after the morning's events. The Husband took a piece, though.
The raw lamb he consumed, while probably unsanitary, most likely wasn't the cause of his late night fever.
Around 2 am, he jumped out of bed with a ruckus, mumbling lowdly about how he Just can't take it! The AC and the fan! I'm freezing! He's so intense I let him turn everything off, knowing full well I'll be sweating balls in about 3 minutes. Even after the room has warmed up, he's still shivering. I take his temperature.
100.5 Great. Here, take some ibuprofen.
101.8 Shit. Listen, I hate to do this to you, but we don't have a bath. You need to take a lukewarm shower. (Imagine a cursing response.)
He hops in. Lock jaw, uncontrollable shivering.
Dry him off, put him to bed. Try not to worry for about 1/2 hour while the ibuprofen (hopefully) kicks in.
98.7 Bingo. Goodnight at 4am.
Tomorrow morning - Krak des Chevaliers and Mysraf.
