Five Things Lebanese People Can Teach The Brits

Following on from my list on Five Things British People Can Teach Lebanese People, here is the flip side of the Lira (or Pound)!

1. Stop calling every dip under the sun hummus:

Let’s start off with what seems like a light topic, it’s not. hummus is sacred. The fact that British-made recipes for it include oil – with premium hummus boasting olive rather than vegetable oil – is offensive. The whole culinary genius of hummus is that it relies on tahini for emulsion. What do you need the olive oil for? It’s garnish people! Garnish!

The fact that you then call every dip under the sun hummus, is undoubtedly offensive. I am talking to all of you out there who think Gwyneth Paltrow’s roasted carrots hummus or cannellini beans hummus is a thing. Hummus literally means chickpeas. No chickpeas. No hummus.

2. DON’T keep calm and carry on.

As substantiated by my above angry rant, which actually relaxed me a little, angry rants can be good for you. I know, I know, stiff upper lip and all that. Until, you get stuck in an airport at 05:00 in the morning on a flight from London to Lebanon. While us Lebanese swarm the counter like angry wasps demanding explanations and ready to sting, us Brits (yes, I have dual personality syndrome) will stand in a queue at the back of the swarm, silently tutting and attempting a little calm “excuse me” every now and then. “Calmness” never got anyone a seat on the next plane.

3. Tell it like it is

Lebanese will take it upon themselves to comment on the most inappropriate things, from your salary to your weight. At least we tell it like it is. We don’t say “I hear what you’re saying” expecting you to understand “I disagree and refuse to discuss this”. We don’t say “quite good” when we actually mean we’re “disappointed”. We DEFINITELY don’t say “I’m sure it’s my fault” for “It’s your fault”. I once told a person sitting in the train behind me “excuse me please, but I am afraid you keep kicking my seat”. The utter shock! Apparently, what I should have said was, “I am very sorry. Pardon me. It might be me, but I feel like, you might inadvertently be touching my seat”. Save everyone the time and confusion and just say what you mean already.

4. It takes one person at the till to solve a problem

I once stood in line at a food place in a train station, watching three people fumble around a service point to resolve one customer’s order. I mean… The lady wanted chicken teriyaki with rice in half of the container and with noodles in the other half. Cue all hell breaking loose and 3 people staring at the food in front of them like it was alien putty. If this were Lebanon, person at the till would have had that lady’s lunch sorted – with extra sesame seeds on top and a miso soup to go with her main (because they would have definitely managed to sell her something she did not come in for) – and 2 more customers served. No help required from colleagues, no script needed and no confusion created. As it were, we were all about to miss our trains. Until that is, I went all Lebanese on them and took a page out of number 3 and 4 in this post!

5. That is not a chip (read fries) sandwich. THIS is a chip (read fries again) sandwich!

It is so endearing to see Brits being so proud of chip butties. Imagine this… A semblance of a hamburger roll (only less well-made) with butter, thick cut chips and brown sauce on them. Us Lebanese have invented the chips sandwich and ours rock! Soft Lebanese bread, wrapped around medium-cut fries, with crunchy cabbage-mayo salad, ketchup and pickles. For extras, add ham, cheese or, every Lebanese person’s favourite, extra toum.