Yesterday, Bro Kevin flew in from the Mile High City, along with his three young 'uns, the youngest of which is now 21. Margie went down to the airport to pick them up and drove them to Pere's house, where they are all dossing for the weekend. Cousin Jimmy came over from next door and hung for a while. When school let out, Bro Sèan drove up. That evening, the three brothers, together with Kevin's three offspring and my daughter went to dinner at a new Lebanese restaurant that had opened in town, to wit: Phoenicia.
Sara was able to give us a running commentary on the menu; and of course Kevin's kids have Lebanese ancestry. I had the baked kibbi. Brian had raw kibbi, which I called kibbles and bits; Brendan (who recently joined the army) went with shrimp scampi, Elisabeth had a Lebanese baked haddock which we inspected for signs that Jonah had been swallowed thereby, so large it was. Sara went for the chicken kabob and contrary to to most kabobs was more chicken than peppers and onions. Kevin went for beef kabob; Sèan had something else which now escapes me. It was all very good. The owners are a couple of Jabbour brothers and I wondered if they were related to the Jabbours I went to high school with.
Then there was the belly dancer.
