"The Language of baklava" (by Diana Abu-Jaber)

What does baklava, a Greek pastry, have to do with a girl growing up in a bi-cultural Jordanian/American family? This question stumped me the minute I picked up Diana Abu-Jaber’s new book, The Language of Baklava. The answer is revealed midway through the story and, surprisingly, it makes perfect sense. The title is fitting because as this book progressed I was never quite sure how everything would fit together&#8212but, then again, neither was the author.

The Language of Baklava is Abu-Jabar’s third book, all of which touch on some aspect of Arab-American culture. In this book, we are taken on an auto-biographical journey with the author, as she struggles to find her own identity while retaining both her Jordanian and American heritage. As a young girl, Abu-Jabar seems to feel that she must “choose” whether to be Arab or American. Yet as she grows and matures, her life experiences show her that perhaps she can embrace the best of both cultures without being disloyal to either.

Baklava begins when the author is six and the much of the story occurs during her pre-teen and teen years. What could have become tediously disjointed anecdotes, instead are woven into a seamless story that unfolds with unpredictability and raw emotion. When a presumed friend confronts young Abu-Jabar with the harsh reality of being bi-racial, I cringed along with the author as the boy tells her “the world isn’t meant for in-betweens.”

Abu-Jabar’s father, whom she calls Bud, is deeply rooted in his Arab culture despite having lived in the US since he was eighteen. To assuage his fears of becoming “too American,” he moves his family to Jordan yet eventually longs for the States and returns a few years later. Living in both countries for extended periods gives Abu-Jabar a unique and wholly informed perspective on the intricacies of both cultures. Though one would expect that having such well-rounded knowledge would make it easier to pull the salient virtues from both cultures, in fact, it seems to make things more complicated. Having formed relationships with people in both countries, Abu-Jabar has difficulty understanding exactly how, and even if, she fits in anywhere at all.

Despite all of the frustrations and challenges of Abu-Jabar encounters, one constant remains: her love and appreciation of food. Fascinating tales of her encounters with food abound: a shish kabob picnic on a frosty day, American pancakes made with ingredients from a Jordanian market, a trip to the city to try Chinese food for the first time. Whether using food as comfort, a peace offering or a way to reconnect to her Arab culture, it forms the underpinnings of the entire book as we come to realize that sometimes the food we choose to eat and cook can convey just as much as the words we speak. Abu-Jabar’s innate ability to understand the nuances of the tastes and textures in the things she eats appears to give her something concrete to focus on, as her world becomes increasingly difficult to navigate.

Baklava is filled with recipes that correspond to the anecdotes we read. They sound so delicious that I was nearly prompted to put the book down and head straight for the kitchen. Nearly all the recipes offered are ethnic, but most require ingredients commonly found in any market. Additionally, many dishes can be prepared in just a few simple steps.

The friends and family we meet in this book are portrayed vividly and with candor. Bud remains a central figure throughout the book, for it is with her father’s expectations of her that she struggles the most. That leaves disappointingly little room, however, for us to understand the relationships she has with other people close to her. Her sisters and mother, for example, remain an enigma, though one can presume that they had a significant impact on her life.

The author tells her story as a look back at her life via first-person narration. The first half of the book focuses on Abu-Jabar’s teen and pre-teen years. At times it is distracting to have meaning assigned to a child’s experiences that only an adult would be able to conceptualize. The tales she tells, however, do help us understand future events as they occur.

After college, Abu-Jabar decides to return to Jordan to live. She has gained the maturity and wisdom to make educated decisions about how she will come to grips with her bi-racial heritage. The time she spends in Jordan as an adult is where we find out if Abu-Jabar can put all she has learned into practice.

The Language of Baklava is a compelling read from an extraordinarily talented author. She affords us the opportunity to see what bi-racial struggles look like from the inside, and how, in the end, everything has a way of working out. Especially if there’s good food during the journey.