Chapter 5: Middle Eastern Cuisine and Camel Milk

The first dish was Turkish kebab, known here as shawarma. Thin slices were wrapped together with pickled cucumbers, tomatoes, and lettuce inside a flatbread. At first glance, it somewhat resembled a Beijing-style pancake roll.

I took a bite and chewed for a long time before swallowing. “This meat tastes a bit dry and tough.”

“That’s why I say this place is authentic,” Senior Yin Qianyan explained. “Muslims consider pork unclean, so they don’t eat it. Similarly, their religious beliefs deem animal blood impure, so before cooking, the blood must be thoroughly drained. Because of this, the meat lacks juice and feels dry and tough, which is why a refreshing, juicy salad is needed to balance it out.”

“I see. Religion really is a strange thing.” I tried a glob that looked like a mixture of plaster and cement powder; it tasted just as bland. “What is this?”

“That’s a Middle Eastern favorite called hummus—a chickpea puree mixed with a bit of olive oil and lemon juice. It’s considered an appetizer in the Middle East, very nutritious, though I’m not used to it.”

“Shouldn’t appetizers be served first?”

“Middle Eastern cuisine is quite casual; there’s no need to follow a strict order like with French food.” Senior Yin smiled and introduced us to several other dishes, all infused with various unusual spices. Saffron, cumin, olives, and herbs were the primary flavorings. Pickles were enjoyed with bread. Although it took some getting used to, overall Middle Eastern food was closer to Chinese tastes than I expected. Compared to European Western cuisine, which uses a lot of butter and cheese, Middle Eastern flavors were fresher. I especially liked a dish called shakshouka, essentially the Middle Eastern version of scrambled eggs with tomatoes, but with a special sauce and accompanied by a vegetable salad, elevating the flavor to a new level.

At the end of the meal, Senior Yin poured camel milk for me and Lian Pian, grinning mischievously as she handed over the cups. “Try it.”

I stared at the thick, milky white camel milk in the bowl. It looked like a denser version of cow’s milk and seemed somewhat unpalatable. But thinking of its nutritional value, I braced myself, closed my eyes tightly, and took a big gulp. The taste was sour and astringent, slightly salty, yet the richness of the milk was striking, numbing my tongue—an unforgettable experience.

That night, both Lian Pian and I suffered from diarrhea. Senior Yin had warned us that first-timers drinking camel milk often experience severe diarrhea, likely due to its detoxifying effects. That said, I strongly suspected that Lian Pian’s loose tongue, gossiping about the relationship between Senior Yin and Yan Hua, led to us unknowingly drinking the camel milk.

The next day, I dragged my nearly debilitated body to begin my first day as a graduate student.

Lian Pian and I were in different majors, so once inside the academic building, we parted ways. I clung to the stairs, climbing step by step, feeling as fragile as a sheet of paper that could be blown over by the slightest breeze.

Out of breath and barely able to move, I finally entered the classroom. Before I could even rest, an unmistakable figure caught my eye, causing me to shudder involuntarily and immediately clear my mind.

Golden-brown eyes smiling warmly, with slightly curled lashes fluttering gently. The handsome young man in the white coat I had seen twice yesterday was sitting right there, chatting and laughing with Ayub beside him.