bloody religions.
the circle turns
same old junk.
We never let on as to who had brought the box of sweeties or the tray of baklava in for us, other than to say vaguely, oh a patient dropped it off for us, they brought us some last week too. We had spies in the hospital. Or at least, people we suspected of - let us call it - reporting back to the government. None of those who we were aware of were half as clever as they seemed to think they were - any who were any use weren't interested in trying to find out who'd brought in sweeties, they had more important things to dig out like was anyone running a home church or leading bible study in hospital accomodation ... yes some eejits got deported or worse for that sort of thing. But they were too obvious about it.
One of the most interesting - and frankly delicious - cake type things I have ever eaten, especially given that I don't like mincemeat, was what I can only call a 'Christmas Baklava', it had a golden-syrup/toffee flavoured soaked top of baklava type pastry, and underneath it was a squidgy, juicy, fruity equally-moist mincemeat-like substance, but actually minced finely (I dislike mincemeat and dried vine fruits mainly because of the texture). If you can imagine good quality (but alcohol-free) jarred mincemeat, mixed with fresh orange juice, further minced and simmered down to almost a paste --- I think it had orange-flower water in it, and pomegranates too, as well as the dried fruits, as there was a sharpness underlying all the sweetness. The lady who brought it in lived in a tiny town, where there was a seasonal lake, some hours south of Riyadh and was an avid radio listener. She said she'd got the recipe from an Egyptian (or maybe Jordanian?) radio cookery programme.