“Barev” (Hello)
“Shnorhakalutyun” (Thank you)
“Ayo”/“Voch” (Yes/No)
Mima’s Recipes began in my childhood, watching my mother cook from the kitchen table and meticulously recording everything she did so that, someday, I could recreate her delicious food. Over the years, I’ve added my own recipes, each shaped by the same patience and persistence she instilled in me.
A fusion of flavours from Armenia, Egypt, & the Middle East, recreated in Australia
“Mima” means grandmother and evokes warmth, love and comfort. Used by a small group of Armenian neighbours in Cairo, Egypt from around the 1940’s, it has stayed in our family ever since. Now, as a Mima myself, my mission is to share these treasured recipes so that they continue to be prepared and enjoyed – always with love.
Mima (my mum) & Me
Growing up, home cooked food shared with family and friends, was at the heart of everything. The kitchen was literally the central room of our home.
Our Family Chronicle
&
Personal Reflections
2nd Edition
With a foreword by Daniel Lauder & Julia Booth
Originally Published by Renaissance Books
As the son of an Armenian try to be the first in charities and last in politics... If you put your foot on dry land, may it flourish to a verdure."
So bestowed a tearful Hovhannes Emirzian, upon his son Margos - then just 17 years old - on November 25th, 1922. It was to be Margos last Sunday spent at home in Old Constantinople, prior to embarking on the long journey to Cairo, Egypt.
Margos' reflections on the childhood he left behind, and his illuminating retelling of the years that followed, are imbued with a wisdom that echoes across generations. One that has shaped the lives of a long line of Emirzian descendants.
As we - Daniel & Julia; two of his great-grandchildren, set about the task of assembling these memoirs into a physical publication for the very first time, we feel the profound weight of those tumultuous years, recognising - in our own contributions - the importance of diligence, prudence and conscientiousness that defined Margos' character and approach to life.
In breathing new life to the memoirs, we are also acutely aware of the custodial role we are playing on behalf of our generation, in upholding the legacy of Margos' romanticisation of the written word. Throughout his life, Margos contributed to numerous publications - both to advance the Armenian cause and out of a deep reverence for contemporaneous historical record. His daughter, Sirvart, likewise understood the importance of both, through her role as the editor-in-chief of Australia's pre-eminent Armenian newsletter, 'Mioutune' as well as in her forays as a playwright, most notably in her writing of 'Small World', which captured the poignant nuance of diasporic Armenians' experience assimilating into western society.
Now, as Margos' granddaughter, Norma, celebrates her 60th birthday, we see these proud traditions enduring through another of Margos great loves: food. Margos memoirs are enriched with references to the great food of his time; Armenian restaurants in Constantinople, feasts of meat and rice cooked by his mother in Agn. Perhaps most relevant to our experience of his granddaughter's lessons on these matters are these words from Margos; "When we finished our meals we had to help our mother, cleaning the table we were very careful never to drop any crumbs on the floor." On the one hand, given the technological advances of our time, it is hard to imagine what Margos might have thought of Mima's Recipes' - an entirely digitised record of hundreds of years' worth of knowledge in food. But one thing we can be assured of is that in this he would have felt that Norma had successfully channelled his diligence, national pride, and love of the written word into yet another coetaneous record of what it is to be Armenian - only this time in the 21st century.
It would be remiss in all of this, not to honour Margos' son-in-law, Kevork, and grandson, Noubar, for their role in furthering the cause of diasporic Armenians in Australia, most notably in their roles
- alongside Sirvart and Norma - as founding members on the board of AGBU (Armenian General Benevolent Union) Alexander school, which last year celebrated 35 years of educating young Armenian-Australians.
It is likewise befitting in this moment, to reflect on Margos' great-grandchildren. Nyree, who embodies a simultaneously calm and cheeky disposition that bears great resemblance to Margos.
Garren, whose entrepreneurial pursuit of excellence in practicing law, mirrors the self-taught nature of Margos' own experience as a jeweller. Julia, whose sense of what is "just' mirrors Margos' perfunctory manifesto on opening his first shop, where he declares his intent "to well compensate the makers of jewellery or ornaments for me." And Daniel, who shares Margos' reverence for history and his belief that its study is autotelic and inherently valuable. It is our joined hope that Margos' great-grandchildren, themselves so shaped by his legacy, carry these lessons to their own children, Audrey, Nora and Leo, and to generations yet to come.
The words ahead bear both a burgeoning national pride and the heavy weight of the historical, enduring traumas of the Armenian people. Yet in reading them today, we believe Margos would charge us to look beyond a rigid or doctrinal adherence to language, culture and faith as the sole means of protecting our heritage and national identity. He would ask us to consider that to be Armenian is to also reflect on how we move through the world:
In perseverance, discipline and industry.
In tolerance, charity and justice.
And most of all, in a deep and abiding love for the history and future of our people and for his family's role therein.
In the words of Armenouhie (Margos' closest familial connection to the famous Armenian poet Daniel Varoujan) spoken to Margos on that solemn November night in Constantinople:
"Kiss and be silent. Take this book and read it again, and be brave to avoid your mother and others to be congested from your tears."
Birds are caught with seed, men with money.
The water goes, the sand remains;
The person dies, the memory remains.
If there was wisdom in beards, all goats would be prophets.
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