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Memories Of Hayastan


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Ed; just for curiousity's sake, 'inche....tsirki perashki'n'?

 

 

msov karkandak.

sa el asem vor el chhartsnes, tsirk nshanakume Krkes, CIRCUS

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msov karkandak.

sa el asem vor el chhartsnes, tsirk nshanakume Krkes, CIRCUS

I hope by that you don't mean that goddam Arabic "lahm(fu*k)joun "msahats" .i.e Armenian (Meat) Pizza".

* Lahm-a-jun" is Arabic to mean "meat and dough/mis ev khmor/Msahats".

Edited by Arpa
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I hope by that you don't mean that goddam Arabic "lahm(fu*k)joun "msahats" .i.e Armenian (Meat) Pizza".

* Lahm-a-jun" is Arabic to mean "meat and dough/mis ev khmor/Msahats".

 

 

No Arpa it's not LAhMujuni Al Arabiya

it's Peroshki Ala Armenica :) And IN Armenian it's Msov KArkandak

 

 

Ingredients:

* 3 loaves frozen bread dough, thawed

* 3 med. onions, chopped

* 100mg of Choped MAghdanos

* 1 1/2 lbs. ground beef + ( Pork + all that other staff ) some even add pork Fatt / off high in fat pork meet

* Salt & pepper to taste

 

Instructions:

Brown beef and onion in heavy skillet in a small amount of oil. salt and pepper

add teh Onions & then after 5 or 7 minutes Maghdanos

Steam until Onions are tender and lightly brown then mix the beef and teh onion mix

let cool

 

Roll dough 1/4" thick and cut in 2 1/2" squares.

Place 2 heaping tablespoons of mixture on top of square in the center. Place another square on top, pinch the side together. Brush on a little butter.

Put into greased pan.

Let rise 15 to 20 minutes.

Bake at 350 degrees for 25 to 30 minutes, until brown.

 

 

now that it's ready - take 2-ts salt and 2-ts read pepper mix them up GOOOOD and on the Perashki :) Anush lIni

 

 

http://www.sgblog.com/a2e/mt/archives/SSCN7782.JPG

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kez

msov karkandak.

sa el asem vor el chhartsnes, tsirk nshanakume Krkes, CIRCUS

Ed yev Movses; hamov pan me gereva gor...mmmmmmmm......yes al inkezinkis esi aysor diet esgesim enel vor 10-15 pound ichnem, himag al anang axorjages patsiq vor....I am drooling over Msov Karkandakin vera yev gam al Peroshkiin vera! :pizza:

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Guys, I went back to Armenia this summer and somehow, everyone knew how much I missed Armenian food. I was greeted with tons of food and Jermuk and even after having no sleep for about 40 hours, I ate, and ate and ate. Every trip had a detour to a ponchik shop, a peroshki shop, a lahmaju shop.The food never stopped. My family had been the the us and remembered how tasteless the food was here.

 

Anyway to everyone who is afraid to go back, I came to the Us with a child's idealized version of her childhood. All i remembered was wonderful, forget the lack of heat, no electricity, no water. What did I remember except not needing to practice my violin, hugging my dad for warmth, I remembered all good and no bad. The only bad I remember was hating the russian girls in school!!! hehe. Anyway after going back as an adult at 21, sure there was some bad, but most was incredible, even better than I had remembered. The lights in Yerevan at night, the Cafe's, the life on the streets, it makes you cry, especially if you left during the bad years becuase youre so thrilled to see things lit up, to see 24 hour electricity, and of course, to see the unchanged hospitality and friendliness fo the Armenian people.

 

And yes, I still got excited eveytime they'd turn on the water for 2 hours. some things never change.

 

Everyone should go, it will honestly make you love life again.

 

Anyway, here's some pictures I took in Armenia, enjoy.

http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/klrqueen17/a...m/ph//my_photos

 

And lets post some more memories.

 

Heres another one from me. I was 4 or 5 and I wanted to prove that I would swim so my mom and I went to the pools in Shaumian park. SO I put on a camera, except instead of putting it under my arms, I put it around my waist and under my butt. Nedless to say it flipped me over and held me underground...and Ialmost drowned! Well some chivalrous Armenian boys came to rescue me yelling "Kyorpen khortakvum a." In like 2 feet of water I almost lost my life...

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  • 2 months later...
Okay one more...(Is this the first time I said that in the last 2 minutes. :)) Who remembers the sun flower seed vendors and the wood cups that would be half carved so to pour only a partial amount of sunflowers. It was 5 kopek for the small "koulok" and 10 for the large. But they were great on a hot summer night. Just fill your pockets and spit on the street while walking to grandmas on Mashdots street. :) (I know it sounds so bad, would never catch me do those things now)

 

 

Yeah i remember, i miss it so much, although i had a great life their but it was just something missing, i cant wait to go back their again. :)

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Guys, I went back to Armenia this summer and somehow, everyone knew how much I missed Armenian food. I was greeted with tons of food and Jermuk and even after having no sleep for about 40 hours, I ate, and ate and ate. Every trip had a detour to a ponchik shop, a peroshki shop, a lahmaju shop.The food never stopped. My family had been the the us and remembered how tasteless the food was here.

 

Anyway to everyone who is afraid to go back, I came to the Us with a child's idealized version of her childhood. All i remembered was wonderful, forget the lack of heat, no electricity, no water. What did I remember except not needing to practice my violin, hugging my dad for warmth, I remembered all good and no bad. The only bad I remember was hating the russian girls in school!!! hehe. Anyway after going back as an adult at 21, sure there was some bad, but most was incredible, even better than I had remembered. The lights in Yerevan at night, the Cafe's, the life on the streets, it makes you cry, especially if you left during the bad years becuase youre so thrilled to see things lit up, to see 24 hour electricity, and of course, to see the unchanged hospitality and friendliness fo the Armenian people.

 

And yes, I still got excited eveytime they'd turn on the water for 2 hours. some things never change.

 

Everyone should go, it will honestly make you love life again.

 

Anyway, here's some pictures I took in Armenia, enjoy.

http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/klrqueen17/a...m/ph//my_photos

 

And lets post some more memories.

 

Heres another one from me. I was 4 or 5 and I wanted to prove that I would swim so my mom and I went to the pools in Shaumian park. SO I put on a camera, except instead of putting it under my arms, I put it around my waist and under my butt. Nedless to say it flipped me over and held me underground...and Ialmost drowned! Well some chivalrous Armenian boys came to rescue me yelling "Kyorpen khortakvum a." In like 2 feet of water I almost lost my life...

 

great pictures!

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  • 11 months later...
  • 1 month later...

This thread was inspired by Anons and Azatik's photos.

 

Memories of you erupt in the sweetness of the luscious strawberries from the little shop on the corner of Abovyan street where I lived. The sweetness of the chocolate ice cream at the cafe outside my window, where the water from the fountain tasted better than juice. Where the the laughter of the kids playing hide and seek and the sounds of the heels against the asphalt sounded better than music.

 

The days where the entire class would get in trouble for skipping the class to go to the park and indulge in freshly baked xachapuris fused with soft and warm cheese. The day that I got punished for disobeying my mother and diving into the backyard pool with tons of other kids from the neighborhood, I am sure that many felt the urge to let go, but the fun I had was worth the hour spent in the corner.

 

The days when my grandmother used to spoil us rotten by taking us to “Detski Mir” (Kid's World) to buy us our desired toy and then going to kino Moskva to watch an American movie. Unlike my mother, Grandma would never cover my eyes when the risque scenes used to appear on the big screen. We used to take a long walk to my Grandmas house where she would prolong our holiday with our favorite Roasted chicken and tea from “Samovar”. After dinner we would engage in a competitive card game and my fortune would be told by her neighbor across the street. Apparently I always had some “bear” in my cup which sometimes meant that some boy would capture my heart and some days that someone has an “achk” (eye) on me. Then we would really break the rules and I would stay up until the morning hours and yes it felt sweet to brake the rules.

 

Sevan was the place where we would have our picnics with 100 friends and family members. Diving into the freezing water of sevan only to return to the captivating smells of khorovats wrapped in moist pieces of lavash. And who can forget the charcoaled potatoes which my mother insisted on cleaning for us, although the point was that one has to eat the skin as well.

 

Memories of window watching where the rest of the neighborhood used to do the same and you would end up waving to each other to celebrate yet another day of meeting each other by our windows. Those long goodbyes in the living room, in the hallway, in the hallway of the building, outside in the backyard and a rain of kisses which left ones cheeks hollow. The memories of tut picking and clothes with stains so saturated that the only choice left was to throw them into bleach and wear them at home, the tongue purple and belly full from the sugary taste of tut.

 

Memories of the fresh fallen snow and the brisk wind of the fall. The memories of the young men squatting on the streets whistling at every skirt passing by. My naughty ways of avoiding my dinner by throwing it out of the window ending up with a victim screaming on top of his lungs with mashed potatoes making their way down his shirt.

 

The memories of the watermelon and cheese on a hot summer afternoon. Singing fountains interchanging the bright colors in May. The sound of a guitar echoing from our smoky living room. The memories of the piano my mother used to play when there was no electricity. The joy of having light and hot water, was a celebration worth popping a bottle of champagne only to have it shut down in an hour. The joy of smelling the mountain air and the shuffling through the garment of golden and orange leaves adorning the pavement of the streets. Memories of you...Hayastan.

 

You have written it so beautifully, describing everything in details making one's heart melt by just remembering similar experiences.

 

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