Culture on the Hocking II: Saturday Night

It rained. It rained so much that the bricks were floating and shifting around like icebergs. Well, maybe not that much, but it was wet.

I met my friend Frederick for dinner, at a place called Salaam, in an alley, off Court Street. I walked through a door surrounded by purple twinkle lights, and step into another world. A world carved out of a dark sub-room of brick, cushions and carpets; a world with scents from Morocco and music from Arabia; a world where the slight Germanic woman who served me breakfast at the organic bakery led me past the belly dancer, through the salons, to my own corner table in the back.

If you hadn't guessed. Salaam serves middle-eastern food, really good middle-eastern food - here in Appalachia. And yes, there is a belly dancer, a really good belly dancer, directly from Appalachia. Frederick and I started with the Mezze Platter as we talked about politics and curriculum. Meanwhile, the tables around us cleared, filled, and cleared again. Frederick ordered the special: a bed of rice and cuscus covered in ripe olives and braised chicken thighs. He didn't offer me one bite.

I had the spanakopita. A giant nine-inch triangle of spinach, feta, and who cares what else, wrapped in a flaky phyllo dough that might have changed my mind about all phyllo doughs forever. It was every man for himself.

While we were grazing through a pile of pita bread at the end of the meal, a group of young French speaking students walked out of the rain and filled a large table near by. The belly dancer came over to entertain them and before we knew it the entire table had joined in, spinning and gyrating like dervishes. As it turned out, one of the young women at their table had studied belly dancing and treated everyone to a "call and answer" style dance-off with the house dancer. Fingers were snapping, feet were stomping, and hip bells were ringing. I believe the gentleman at their table had a close brush with nirvana.

Frederick and I clapped along respectfully while we waited for our check, and then parted company in the alley as the rain got just a tad heavier. Well, enough that the catfish were heading up hill.