Little Kabul

Fremont, California

First, the Farmer's Market, where we found fresh okra, artichokes, goya, cherry tomatoes, baby bok choy, heirloom potatoes, peppers, peanuts, daikon, carrots, corn, white peaches, garlic nan, red string beans, cilantro, and brussel sprouts still on their stalks.

Then, The Salang Pass, which serves the best Afghan food I've tasted since flying away from Kabul to Beirut 37 years ago. Mantu, Sabzi Chillow with lamb, Qorma Chillow with chicken, Dorgh, nan, salata -- all delicious.

The Afghan markets are piled high with herbs and sauces, nuts and kishmish. The mournful ballad at the restaurant reminded us of what a tragedy the Afghans have endured in the decades since I was there. The owner, a tall, handsome man in his sixties, asked how I knew Dari; when I told him he got a faraway look in his dark eyes. "Those were the good times," he sighed.

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