A slice of life, love and food in the words of everyday people affected by the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. Robin Soans' documentary theatre, The Arab-Israeli Cookbook, plays in Toronto until April 1, 2006.
The house lights are on and Middle Eastern music provides a lyrical backdrop to the Berkeley Street Theatre Upstairs. Unexpectedly, Studio 108 actors start walking onto the set and chopping up herbs, vegetables and fruit, while moving around each-other with a dancer's grace. The audience seems uncertain what to think until the house lights dim and we're greeted by a Palestinian Christian woman who proceeds to tell us what she's cooking today and why keeps a small altar full of saints for her to pray to every day. And so begins the journey of the Arab-Israeli Cookbook.
In 2003, British playwright Robin Soans interviewed over 80 Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians from every walk of life and of various religious affiliations to come up with this piece of documentary theatre. This was a first for me- I'd never been to a play that was based upon actual transcripts of dialogue. At times, I felt as if I were listening to a good friend telling me their story over a cup of coffee. At others, I felt I was eavesdropping on a family's private dinner-time conversation. Everyday people, from restaurant owners to retired folks trying to live a quiet, peaceful life were interviewed in shaping this piece. We heard about how the violence of the world they inhabit has impacted their daily existence, and how they work past that grim reality in the effort to lead as normal a life as possible.
Perhaps food - cooking it, preparing it in customary tradition and enjoying it with family and friends forms part of the process of inviting normality into lives forced into extraordinarily difficult situations. We visit a Jewish gay couple's kitchen as they prepare a Thai red curry beef and noodle dish while they talk about their involvement in an Arab-Israeli choir. Their choir is one of many initiatives to get both "sides" to interact- even if it's just so they can sing as one voice. At another home, we hear of how a bus driver, who navigates the most dangerous route in his city, witnessed the bombing of a bus that left minutes before his. Unlike the couple in the choir, he doesn't feel as if any initiative will have a lasting, meaningful impact with regards to changing the violence they all face daily.
From falafels to a wonderfully prepared steak with garlic and hot peppers (whose aroma, by the way, perfumed the theatre and made this audience member salivate), food is the tie that binds these stories. We're taken into people's kitchens and dining rooms as they share the joys and horrors of life in their cities. As an audience, you're challenged to think, feel and put yourself into their shoes. No answers are offered to the troubles facing this region, just as no judgements are passed and no sides taken. In the end, we see families, couples, and friends breaking bread together around one table- hoping that the next meal they share will be under more peaceful circumstances.
A compendium cookbook, by the same name as the play and based on the recipes found throughout the region, is also available for those hankering for an authentic fatoush or kibbeh recipe. I have yet to delight in its culinary offerings, but I do know the book is available at The Cookbook Store on 850 Yonge Street here in Toronto. La Chaim!
