The sweetest part of Armenia is its fruit

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.

Making my way through the market (memories from life in Vanadzor)

Some of my favorite memories of life in Armenia relate to food.  Armenians are a wonderfully hospitable people and anywhere you go, you will be offered something to eat and drink.  For me, personally, my best memories relate to trying to wind my way through the long market streets to pick up supplies for my weekend cooking.

Armenian outdoor markets come to life especially on weekends, but they are equally busy during weekdays.  In my city, Vanadzor, the market often seemed to spill out on to the main street and fruit and vegetable vendors popped up wherever the sidewalks offered space. I tended to be a big fan of the local greens. Never in my life had I seen such variety and freshness. My typical shopping basket included fresh spinach, cilantro, dill, basil (usually the purple variety, as sweet basil was not as common), romaine lettuce, bib lettuce, tarragon and green onions. I generally tried to spread my shopping across multiple vendors: this allowed me to get to know different people working in the markets and also to test the quality of different goods.

One of my guilty pleasures, when doing my market shopping, was picking up some fresh button mushrooms for later use in garden salads or for making omelets.  I have no idea where the local farmers grow their mushrooms, but they had such a wonderful aroma and flavor.  Sometimes I questioned whether I had been shopping in the wrong markets in Europe (I had lived in Prague prior to traveling to work in Armenia), or whether Armenians simply had a magic touch in growing my favorite fungi.

Another joy of my market days was using my shopping time to get to know vendors.  Usually, they addressed me in Russian because at 6’4” (194 cm) in height and with fairly pale skin, they knew immediately I wasn’t from their area.  So after a few words in Armenian and convincing them that we’d understand each other better in their language as opposed to the Soviet import, we quickly began our taste-testing and language learning sessions.  The fun of the whole process was trying to decide afterwards whether I’d indeed learned new Armenian words or if some Russian had perhaps slipped in.  I’m pretty sure that terms like malina (raspberry), boloki (radish) and jemish (cantaloupe/honeydew melon) are not 100% Armenian.

I will always treasure recollections of my time wandering through the Vanadzor shuka (market – շուկա). Taking a few extra moments to talk with the stall owners always led to small joys like better prices on meat or samples of different fruits. Also, once I had become a regular customer to a handful of street vendors, I would sometimes get an extra potato or two with my purchase or get some extra apricots for the fruit bowl on my living room table.

I highly recommend dropping by an outdoor market if you find yourself travelling through Armenia. If you make the summer season, make sure you load up on the super-delicious tsiran / ծիրան (apricots), dzmeruk / ձմերուկ (watermelon), and my personal favorites: purple or green tooz / թուզ (figs).