Kabob with my Baba, my KaBoba.

i got back to dc on friday and had dinner with my dad at an iranian restaurant. i had been in VA for a week before i went up to nyc, but i had been house sitting, so my parents had not felt the need to feed me. well, that's not true. but there had not been any kabob during this trip. my dad and i ate at a local restaurant that has been in the same location, close to tysons since as far back as i can remember. it's called shamshiry and it's located on the first floor of an office building, behind some car dealerships.



it's nice to eat meals with family. my dad and i joked about what all the white people thought about me taking so many pictures of my food, as if i had never even seen a grain of basmati rice. i had kubideh, which i've been told before looks like a turd. but that is rude and it is delicious. also, when i was younger i was taught to take a raw egg yolk and drop it on my buttery rice and mix it up. we stopped doing this long ago, but the egg was on the menu, and i was nostalgic, so i got it. there was so much butter on the rice anyway, i couldnt really tell the difference with the egg.

my dad and i saved our leftovers and made plans to eat them the next day for lunch. that was to be my send off lunch.