Of Turks and Curry

I accidentally went on a date yesterday.

It happened like this. The kitchen, recall, is still in Shambles (capital S), and I'd been cooped up in my room all sickified over the weekend. Sunday afternoon was a gorgeous day and I needed lunch, so I strolled downtown for some food and fresh air. Not much open on a quiet Sunday-- except a small Turkish deli near Union Street. So I popped in for a bite. There were two young guys working, probably both my age or a bit older, and two middle-aged women flirting outrageously with them. And I mean, OUTRAGEOUSLY. Snippet of their commentary as they watched the guys prepare their meals:
"Ooo, you must be a REAL chef, you cut those vegetables with such power and skill", or
"Oh my, that IS a spicy sauce, isn't it? MMmmm" *giggle giggle*, lean over counter, *giggle*

Repulsive... but also hilarious. The guys kept shooting me (the only other patron) glances as if to say "Can you BELIEVE these cougars?", and when the women had finally left , I sympathized with them for a while. The owner-- let's call him "S"-- chatted with me for a while. Seemed like a really decent guy. I paid for my lunch and walked back up the hill to my B&B.

Fast forward to Wednesday. Again: gorgeous day, no kitchen. So I wandered back downtown with the idea of exploring the harbor. I did-- it was eerily quiet, not a soul around. But lots of crates, huge ships, rows of cranes...and no movement anywhere. Good, Elise-- get that illegal trespassing whilst in foreign countries bit out of your system when no one's around to catch you. Worked out rather nicely.

After my tour of the harbor I wandered around for another hour or so (there are some really lovely bits to this city), and I realized I had to eat dinner at some point. I came across a small bar and was about to go in when I noticed the Turkish guy-- "S"-- waving me down from across the street. He'd just happened to be stopping by that same pub for a drink when he saw me. Random, eh? He offered to buy me a drink (how can you refuse?), and we had a second good chat over whiskey....and by "chat" I mean I asked a lot of questions, and he talked. It was nice though. Me shutting up for once.

After the whiskey was gone, S mentioned he hadn't dinner. By this time it was getting on 10 o'clock and my stomach was eating itself, so when he said "I know a great Mexican place" I said sure. Why not? Mexican is my favorite. Plus, I was more than a little bit curious to see how the Scots would do with this particular cuisine. Plus plus, S was paying. (Hey look at that, there are perks to womanhood occasionally)

The Mexican place was down by the beach. It looked fantastic...from the outside. Just closed for the night. Undaunted, S said "I know a great Indian place," and I said, ok. The local Indian cuisine has thus far not impressed me, so show me what you got.

We drove up a hill overlooking the sea and pulled into Sama Tandoori, a snug little white building with impeccable wait-staff and, I am happy to report, fantastic food. At last! I ate so much curry...and so much naan... and so many poppadams... mmmmm. While I was stuffing my face (and I did it for a really, really long time) S told me lovely stories about his homeland Turkey, and the small village where he visited his grandfather, who'd married three times and would walk with him through the village's many gardens. Melons, nuts, grapes-- S would just eat from the trees as he and his grandfather passed by. He told me about growing up Muslim, and how he feels the beauty of Islam deep in his heart. S's whole family is back in Turkey, and he hasn't been home for over three years. I didn't say much the whole evening (stuffing face), but S was eager to talk. I can't say I blame him. He wanted to remember all that he missed, and I happened to be there to listen. And eat free food. A good arrangement on all counts.

Round about midnight, S was a perfect gentleman and dropped me off back at my B&B. He took my hand and simply said that I knew where to find him-- at his restaurant-- should I want for company in my last few weeks in Aberdeen. That's the way to do it-- ball in my court. And so it can be left at that-- a random encounter, good food and drink, a merry time had by all.

Today, the kitchen still being a mess, I made plans with some of the philosophy faculty to have a nice dinner on the town. So Guido, Jenny, and little Katie, along with a few other faculty members and I took a lovely stroll through Seaton park, past some charming neighborhoods and to the top of a hill-- to this "great Indian place" they knew. You guessed it: Sama Tandoori. Same place I'd been less than 24 hours before with the young Turk. I had to laugh, especially when the Maître'd did a double-take as I walked past. Oh well. I am happy to report the food was, once again, excellent (though unfree, this time).

Now I am off to bed. Tomorrow I meet up w/ e in Inverness (will be good to see a face from home!)...and then on to the Isle of Skye, hurrah! Expect pictures and harrowing tales next week (though note that this time I AM bringing a hiking buddy, lest we suffer a repeat of last year's New Zealand Mount Stormy Rain Forest of Death Extravaganza). I'm about to pee my pants with excitement over here.

Oh, before I go: b-- this one is for the kiddos (at least until I get Skype)!