52 pages • 1 hour read
Diana Abu-JaberThe Language of Baklava
Nonfiction | Autobiography / Memoir | Adult | Published in 2005A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Symbols & Motifs
Food as Living Memory
Food is a symbol of living memory. The Language of Baklava is at once a memoir and a cookbook: Food and cooking are at the heart of the book and of Diana’s life. She says in the Foreword that the stories of her childhood “were often in some way about food, and the food always turned out to be about something much larger: grace, difference, faith, love” (xi). Food represents many events, memories, emotions, and desires and can therefore never be separated from experience.
Diana writes the recipes themselves in a way that indicates their importance at specific points in time. Each recipe has a title or subheading explaining its use or association: “Bud’s Special Rice for Special Company” (29), “Subsistence Tabbouleh For when everything is falling apart and there is no time to cook” (143), etc. The ingredients are generous: plenty of oil, garlic, salt, and whatever will make the dish as rich and flavorful as needed. The instructions are written in prose rather than list form. They are informal and not technical, assuming some knowledge of cookery and trusting the reader to know what they are doing. Some include personal touches: “Bud recommends that you sing softly to the cooking, so you don’t rush” (21).
Descriptions of meals and food are elaborate and poetic and cover all the sensory aspects of the dish being described, suggesting how preparing and eating a dish can recall memories of people and places from the past. For example, Aunt Rachel’s knaffea is “so rich and dense that you can eat only a little bit, and then it is over and the knaffea is just a pleasant memory—like a lovely dream you forget a few seconds after you wake” (118). Food metaphors illustrate people and their characters: “That boy is a bitter melon” (44), says Mrs. Haddadin of Bennett. Food images appear at transcendental moments: “In the distances between stars, it seems there is no flavor or scent (although I think I might detect the purple black glisten of an eggplant skin within the night air)” (327). Food is never far from Diana’s mind when defining moments in her memory.
Food as Identity
Food is a symbol of Chosen and Unchosen Identities. When Bud is away in Jordan, Diana and her mother reassert their Americanness and freedom by cooking American food: Velveeta or meatball sandwiches on Wonder bread. In Jordan, they similarly make pancakes to assert their American identity in the face of Munira’s criticism of American food. Bud cooks to immerse himself in his memories of Jordan, to return to his childhood, and to honor his homeland and culture; it is only through compromising—cooking American food but with Jordanian hospitality—that Bud finally reconciles the identity conflict he has always faced. Bennett shows complete disdain for “native foods,” in keeping with his and his father’s rejection of any culture other than their own. He dreams of crumpets and Horlicks, the epitome of Englishness. The strongest act of rebellion that Diana can carry out is to state she hates Arabic food, which is as terrible as saying she is not Arab.
Food is especially intertwined with identity in Jordan, where Diana marvels at the quantity of food served at meals and its importance in society: “Food is one of the primary values in Jordan” (240). To be able to provide food is a sign of wealth and pride, especially for those who were once hungry Palestinian refugees. Women’s beauty is associated with how much their husband can feed them. Vegetarianism is incomprehensible and associated with infertility. The uncles’ competition for the title of best cook is another indication of the confluence of food with identity and pride.
Food is also part of The Places, People, and Feelings that Constitute HOme. As a child, Diana says: “To my mind, this is the best way to show love—to offer food from your own hand” (8). Food brings the extended family together to cook, share food, compete over whose is best, and then sleep contentedly with full stomachs. Hisham expresses his affection for Diana with an offer of sambusik cookies: “I look upon these cookies with nostalgic tenderness, as if it has been years since I’ve seen Hisham” (42). As Diana begins to become independent by leaving for college, her rejection of home and her father’s authority leads to her being literally unable to stomach his cooking. When she finally reconnects with her home and family, her body accepts her father’s meals again and she feasts on labneh, the rich yogurt dish: “Tonight, this is the purest dish in the world. Mother’s milk. It is the sort of food that can’t be replaced by anything else” (229). When Diana takes Jordanian food back to Scott’s flat and they eat together, with him eager to learn how to tear the bread and dip it in oil, Diana feels love for him and is able to let him into her heart and her story.
Food as Power
Food also has power. Sister John is transported to “The Holy Land” when she tastes Bud’s dishes and expresses her appreciation in an “openly sensual display” (27), to Diana’s mother’s disapproval. The prospect of new food keeps Diana awake the night before she and her grandmother go to the Chinese restaurant: “Tiny sparks run over my skin, raising every hair” (91). In the isolated house in the country, Bud lures his errant younger daughters back home when they run away by mentioning their favorite dishes.
Food is ambition: The desire to open his own restaurant drives Bud to Jordan and back until he finally achieves his dream. At the Jewish meal in college, Diana equates eating falafel with hearing “angels at dinner” (221). Aunty Aya is vocal and philosophical about food: “Food is aggravation and too much work and hurting your back and trapping the women inside like slaves” (189). Yet Aunty Aya is also the one who knows the ultimate power of food (and its relationship to The Power of Women), using the language of baklava to solve conflicts.
