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For weeks, I had been wandering through a desert wasteland, delirious with exhaustion and hunger. My feet were tired, and my stomach was growling. Loudly. What I wouldn’t give for some sustenance! Particularly a pocket filled with beef and spices served with a side of baked chips coated with a special blend of Mediterranean herbs and seasoning with a yogurt dip.

Alas! In the distance I spied an inviting figure with an intoxicating aroma luring me toward it. I could hardly believe my eyes. It had to be a mirage. Could it be? A truck in the desert serving Armenian specialties? I mustered up what little strength I still had and followed the food truck. Behold! The Hungry Nomad Truck! Offerings of culinary splendor overwhelmed my senses, and I prepared to bask in the glory of a Beorek (beef pocket) with Za’atar chips. I was so hungry, I could hardly stand to wait to dig into my feast until I could take a few photos. So I didn’t. None of these are mine, sorry.

When I finally ate, it was as though I had discovered my Armenian spirit guide. I realized that my journey through the desert was so that I could discover this truck. The beef pocket looked beautiful–golden crust, drizzled with yogurt sauce, and it was cut in half, giving just a little sneak peek of the treasure it contained. Tender, lean ground beef, spiced to perfection, was instantly soul warming.

 

(I used to have a picture of the pocket here, but some technical difficulties occurred.)

The crust was just a tad on the dry side, but it was still wonderful, and the dryness could easily be amended with an extra side of sauce. While the pocket provided the venue, it was the chips that brought the party. If this was the only food I ever ate again, I think I would be okay with that. Chips made of pita or lavash or some similar thin bread are baked and topped with this magical green mixture of wild Mediterranean thyme, sesame seeds, and a bit of olive oil. Alone they are wonderful, but dipped in their special yogurt dip, they are of another world. After finishing my beef pocket, I savored every last chip, and every last drop of dip.

At last, I felt satisfied and sustained enough to finish the last leg of my journey to get home. Eternal gratitude to the Hungry Nomad for feeding me, a hungry nomad (at the reasonable price of under $7, I might add).

I realize this song is not Armenian, but I think it goes nicely with the mood of the food and the story, and I quite enjoy it.

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