A cross-cultural Thanksgiving

Usually, I stay in Indiana where it's cold. This time, I went to Florida to visit my dad and my stepmother (Yaz from now on, for the sake of typing ease).
Yaz's family is Lebanese. I have had Thanksgiving with them before, but not in Florida. This time, there were about 30-40 people crammed into a house outside of Tampa. Several conversations I overheard were going on in either English, French or Arabic, or some combination of the three. I'm used to listening to a combination of English/Arabic (Araglish?) because of Yaz's mom (known as Sitto). I will talk more about Sitto in a minute, but for now I will just say that she likes to switch languages in the middle of sentences, and according to some actual arabic-speakers, she makes up a lot of the words she says (anyone know what "yarab" means? We're pretty sure it isn't a word).
The French is a new thing for me. Only recently have I heard it spoken within Yaz's family, because some distant North African relatives have started to be more present at family functions - at least the ones I go to, now that I'm in Florida more often. Some of them speak French better than English. It appears I decided to learn the wrong romance language after all.
But anyway, onto the food.
Lebanese cuisine is definitely one of my favorite types of food. I don't know how to spell any of it, but maybe if I describe it, you can all follow along.
Until recently, it never occured to me that having Ruz lahmeh snubar right next to the turkey and dressing was a little bit weird.
Ruz lahmeh snubar: Rice, finely ground beef, cinnamon, pine nuts. It's lovely, but cinnamon and turkey? Surprisingly, it's really good together.
And oh, the fattoush. Fattoush, of course, is arabic salad with toasted bits of pita bread, but Oh. You have never had fattoush (or salad, for that matter) until you've had fattoush made by Sulwa (I also don't know how to spell names). She makes it with very nice, fresh vegetables, lemon juice, vinegar, olive oil, salt and spices, but she adds pomegranate oil. Yum.
I think those were the only Arabic dishes present for the actual meal, but of course for appetizers and dessert we had hummus and fig tarts alongside other classic non-Arabic yet Hakim/Yazback family traditions: Taco dip and pudding pie - both of which deserve their own post.
There's no recipe. So what's the point of this post? To emphasize that open-mindedness is just as important when applied to non-american food on strictly American holidays.
If I approached my mom's side of the family with anything resembling food that is not American in origin on Thanksgiving, it would NOT go over well. Apple pie, pumpkin pie and brownies. And that is all that is allowed. Brownies are pushing it.

In which I discover that feta and mayonnaise is a good combination.

As previously discussed, a week ago I bought a giant container of fresh feta cheese for only $4. This leaves me continually searching for things to do with it. Occasionally I use a recipe finder, and sometimes I just make things up off the top of my head.
Like this wrap that I'm about to describe to you.
There is a Pita Pit in my college town. If you haven't been to Pita Pit, they make the world's most fabulous wraps, including things like meat, vegetables, sauce and cheese all magically wrapped up in a fresh, real pita. According to one taster, my wrap was better than anything pita pit could come up with. I disagree, but it's ok. I'll take the compliment.

Basically, I had some large burrito shells. And on top of one, I put some chicken breast lunch meat, some chopped onions, some arugula leaves, a few wedges of avocado, three tomato slices, and some mayonnaise and some crumbled up feta cheese. And it is amazing. So simple, yet so great.

Why though? Doesn't it seem that the combination of feta and mayonnaise would be utterly disgusting? Maybe the avocado was balancing everything out. Not so. A few days later I ran out of avocado but made one anyway, and it was still just as good.
The arugula somehow took on a somewhat smoky flavor when paired with the mayo and tomato, and the chicken was barely even noticeable. It could have been mistaken for actual, good-quality deli meat, or it could have not been there at all. But it certainly didn't taste like the crappy chicken I bought.
My only beef with this wrap was that my burrito shells were of the not-too-bendable variety, making a neat little wrap shape almost impossible. Maybe if I had thrown them in the microwave for 5 seconds, I would have had less trouble, but then I would have been eating a crunchy tortilla within minutes. I would suggest getting actual tortillas made for wraps, or if you can find them, actual large-size pita pockets.
The problem is, I won't eat large-size pitas unless they actually come from the Yasmeen Bakery in Dearborn, Michigan.
Sidenote: If you get the chance to go there, GO THERE. They have fresh pitas. They have shwarma. They have spinach fatiyah that is second only to my Sitto's. They have large vats of fresh mediterranean olives for sale. They have some pastries, but for real baklawa, you should go to the huge shrine to pastries that is Shatila down the road. Everyone knows that.
Domed ceilings, christmas lights, the whole bit. The pastry counters line the walls. I mean it when I say shrine. It's just not an extremely good picture.