As the sun made its exit, we began our search for dinner, eventually deciding to splurge on a small feast at a trendy-looking rooftop restaurant. To my delight, there were dishes on the menu that I had never heard of, dishes with more of a Syrian or Persian flare— kibbeh and biryani in disguise. The scent of cardamom took me home to my childhood, a cloud of a memory, nonspecific. We ordered a sampler of Mardin specialties and a walnut kebab to share.
I could have been happy with just that little dish of incredible, sweet and sour cherry sauce and a bit of bread, but goodness when the sauce, walnuts, and spiced beef meet... Over the moon, I tell you! Though I enjoyed every bit of our meal, it's the taste of that kebab and cherry that I still remember. The only way to end such a wildly delicious experience was with a dainty cup of coffee with cardamom.
We had to take a walk to digest. At some point, a small truck slowly passed us spraying a noxious gas into the air, which we learned was for killing mosquitoes. The gas burned in our throats and eyes, and as the truck made its way down the street, it left coughing people in its wake.