The Aleppo Sandwich: Searching For The Flavors Of A Home Lost To War
In 2003, Adam Davidson and Jen Banbury were living in Baghdad, working as reporters covering the Iraq War. And they were falling in love.
They went on vacation to Aleppo. This was before the city became the symbol of the devastation of the Syrian civil war, back when you might actually go there on vacation.
A friend put them in touch with a local photographer named Issa Touma. And Issa said, "While you're here, you have to go to this sandwich shop."
"People are walking in and they see us and they're like, 'Ah, you're here for the sandwich!' " Adam recalls. "There's an excitement. This was a pilgrimage spot."
Meats and vegetables were displayed in a case. Jen remembers the sheep brains, cleaned and stacked behind the glass as if in a jewelry store. They ordered chicken and tongue. Jen was blown away by the tenderness of the meat and the quality of the sandwich baguette.
"I remember us both just staring at the guy who made it in shock," says Adam.
"Now I just wish we had somehow documented it," Jen says, "because clearly that place is long gone. Who knows whether the owners are alive or dead?"
But what if the place is still there? Well, as I learned, when you're talking about a shop in a city that's largely cut off from the rest
