Markets

I was looking at some pictures today and noticed that a year ago this time, I was a week away from getting sworn in as a Peace Corps volunteer in Armenia. In my village of Hovtashen in the Ararat region south of Yerevan mulberries (թտւթ) were everywhere. It was a strange, amusing experience. I knew mulberries from my childhood in Missouri. Taste-wise, they were tolerable, but I had never been particularly fond of them. Yet somehow, as with many of life’s simpler experiences in Armenia, the local mulberries were different. They seemed sweeter and there were two kinds: dark and white ones. I had never seen white ones elsewhere. On top of that I learned that Armenians also distill their mulberries and make a very potent alcoholic drink from them. Some might call it brandy in the way people tend to call the distillate from plums in central and eastern Europe plum brandy (locally referred to there using a variation of the word slivovice deriving from the word slivka for plum). Otherwise, in the color sense, it looks what a Missouri kid like me would have called plum moonshine, i.e. it has a color more akin to vodka. All the same, the stuff is strong. And, as I tend to do with the plum brandy from Moravia, I drank a shot first thing in the morning when I felt a cold or sore throat coming on. Just one shot, mind you.

With that intro, I wanted to highlight some of the fruit experiences I enjoyed when I was living in Armenia. So let’s begin.

Apricots / ծիրան

Apricots are synonymous with Armenia: even the orange hue in the country’s flag is referred to as apricot orange. And then there’s the taste: one that can’t be described. They are so rich, sweet and juicy and can be put to many uses. Of course, they can be eaten fresh from the tree or from the markets (if you’re a city dweller). I would always eat them with my host dad Artur when we had evening coffee. Apricots are also used to make a drink/juice referred to as կոմպոտ (compote), which is truly a thick fruit juice and not the jam-like fruit dish we know in English-speaking countries. In addition to that, apricots are dried and stored for the winter: still, the dried fruit has a flavor and juiciness that makes you think it was harvested not more than a week ago. Finally, there is the prized apricot jam that Armenian women all over the country make during late spring. I smuggled two jars of that home to give to friends.

Figs / Թուզ

These are one of my favorite fruits anytime I can get them: fresh from the market or picked from a bush in the wild. Like the mulberries mentioned above, there are two versions: the green ones and the purple/dark ones. I’m generally partial to the purple ones, as they are the variety I know from visits to the beaches of the Mediterranean. On various islands, it was common to pick a handful of figs during pitstops when returning after a day of swimming and sun. There is something about fresh figs that makes them feel like a guilty pleasure; the fact that the vendors at the outdoor markets in Vanadzor would slip me a couple extra when I was shopping always made my day.

Melons / ձմերտւկ (watermelon) and յեմիշ (cantaloupe)

By late June, melon season had arrived in Armenia and sidewalks everywhere were stocked with them. Of course, they were sold by local fruit-vegetable merchants, but it appeared that seasonal melon-vending was a way to generate cash for a number of other entrepreneurial locals as well. And thank goodness for that. Melon was another summertime staple for my coffees with Artur. Depending on what was available, we would chomp on cold watermelon with our rich, dark Armenian coffee, or we would enjoy the spicy flavor and scent of cantaloupe: both added to the spoils we collected from the family garden; specifically, the cherries.

Cherries / Բալ

As with most countries I’ve lived in, both sweet and sour versions of cherries can be found in Armenia. They are also eaten fresh or cooked for jams. And in some cases, the locals make them into the juice (compote). I actually grew quite fond of them as a nice way to round off my evening meal; a slightly healthier version of dessert. It was a joy to partake of cherries so as not to stuff myself with too much of the delicious Armenian գաթա (gata cakes) or with Armine’s delicious pastries and éclairs.

I’ve rambled on too long. But if you make it to Armenia, treat yourself to the wide variety of fruits in the outdoor markets. You won’t regret it.

Since I was a child, I’ve loved gardening. At times it was a chore, when I had to go pick green beans in 30°+ C heat or if I had to weed through rows of carrots. But most of the time it was a way to escape: school life, family disputes or just the general noise of the world. Spending time with families in south central Armenia’s Ararat region, and in the northern Lori region, took me back to those childhood memories; specifically, I had the chance to help harvest an abundance of herbs that I would learn were essential staples in Armenia’s cooking vocabulary.

Dill / Սամիթ

This is one of my favorite herbs. Although, I find it to be quite divisive when it comes to people’s culinary tastes. Most of my friends either LOVE it, or they HATE it. I belong to the former group and was always delighted when my host family would send me back to my home in the north with a sack full of dill. It’s great for salads and soups. Or it’s nice for flavoring dishes like boiled potatoes (which I saw and tasted a lot when visiting southern Poland during the time I lived in the neighboring Czech Republic). I love that many countries seem to have their different takes on how to use dill. Whereas the Armenians would often use it to flavor carrot, cucumber or lentil salads, the Czechs use it as the base for a wonderful white sauce served with braised beef koprovka or as the main herb in a potato-mushroom soup called kulajda.

Coriander / Համեմ ու Գինձ

This is another herb that tends to polarize. I usually can’t get enough of it and I was delighted to find it in abundance in the gardens and markets of Armenia. It is interesting that the locals tend to use herbs in two specific ways when cooking, and you would often see them eat coriander in such fashion. There is the traditional method of chopping the herb and integrating it into salads, sauces or soups. However, Armenians also tend to serve a plate of kanachi (կանաչի), the general term for greens, with most of their meals. It is common to take fresh herbs from this plate: coriander, dill, tarragon, green onion or purple basil and work that into rolled up “sandwich” of sorts made with their traditional bread lavash (լավաշ).

Tarragon / Թարխուն

I never really saw tarragon used other than it being chomped on while raw, e.g. taken from the kanachi plate. I found it enjoyable in small doses; specifically, for its peppery-, anise- or licorice-like flavor. It was a nice addition to a sandwich made during khorovats (խորոված), the Armenian version of barbeque. Plus, it was interesting to see that someone somewhere had come up with the idea to make tarragon soda pop. The bright green color was equal parts intriguing and scary, while the soda was refreshing: again in small doses.

Purple Basil / Ռեհան

I never quite found a suitable use for this herb. We had it in heaps in my childhood gardens and flower beds in northern Missouri. However, I find it to be more assertive than sweet green basil, and thus more difficult to cook with. Most of the time, I took this colorful herb and chopped it up for use fresh garden salads I would make; also using it in sparing quantities.

Mountain Thyme / Լեռնային ուրց

This is one of the sweetest surprises to be found during hikes along the mountain ridges in the Lori region where I lived. It’s a cute, unassuming plant and, when the wind is right, it sweetens the air of the peaks and valleys as you meander through the passes along Armenia’s northern mountains. There, mountain thyme is abundant and it’s always tempting to grab a couple of handfuls to take home to dry: for later use in flavoring meats and various baked vegetable dishes.

The sweetest part of Armenia is its fruit

Tasting Armenia