I wanted to try doing something interesting with some of the venison my neighbors so graciously shared with us, so I played fast and loose with my Mom’s Arabian schwarma recipe. My *only* regret is that I forgot to wrap one up for myself, to take to my Mom’s house this week. 
Well, I started out to make fajitas, but got sidetracked along the way, and wound up with yet another bastardization of a common dish! Sometimes these experiments go *really* well, and fortunately for us, tonight was one of those times. Well, at least in terms of how yummy the end product was. We’ll… just gloss over the part when I almost burned down the kitchen…
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This is my all-time favorite sandwich. Well, until I’m in the mood for a reuben, or a monte cristo, or a banana-and-mayonnaise, a muffaletta… you get the idea. Seriously, though, it doesn’t get much better than this. I call it a “Cadopita,” and it was inspired by a sandwich I used to eat ad nauseum back when I was just out of high school and on my own for the first time in Memphis, TN. Our local health food store was called Squash Blossom, and it was a tiny nook in a strip of town called Overton Square. It had a particular aroma about the place that I’ve never found duplicated in the mega-mart natural foods stores we find today — not that I’m not thrilled to have places like Whole Foods, Wild Oats, and Ellwood Thompson — and I miss it terribly.
At any rate, there came a day when Squash Blossom did something risky and wonderful; they put in a food bar. It was just a little deli counter, and I was so thrilled. I would walk the four blocks or so from my very first solo apartment, a tiny two-room deal stuck onto the back of a very vintage, very Memphis-style house, and order up a tall glass of freshly extracted carrot juice (to this day one of my all-time favorite beverages) and a “Squash Blossom Special;” a whole wheat pita pocket stuffed full of avocado, shredded goat cheese and carrots, and alfalfa sprouts, all held together with a little plain yogurt.
I still crave these yummy little pockets today, and although I’ve changed the recipe a bit over the years, it still takes me back to that distant time, when I was young and full of my own new-found sense of freedom. And every time I eat one, now, I smile to think that somehow, after all that time, I’m still as idealistic, joyful, and free… if a tad bit wiser. At least I think so… 