seeing him. His home and office practice was on the corner of and , next to the Masonic Lodge. Unfortunately he and his family moved to Boston where he continued his practice. At least once and sometimes twice a year Mom would make Lebani, Lebanese cheese. The equivalent is yogurt. Yogurt has become very popular in over the last ten years but it was a staple food item with the middle eastern people for centuries. We would get two or three, five gallon cans of raw milk from the farmer and the rest of the day would be spent in making the yogurt. Large pots of milk would be heated to the boiling point and let cool off enough that you could put your finger in and count up to ten. Then you would put the culture in, stir with a wooden spoon and wrap the pot with a blanket and let stand over night. If all turns out right you have your yogurt. The next step would be to pour the yogurt in a large white cotton bag like a pillow case, tie the open end and let hang to allow the excess liquid to drip out. This could take up to two or three days depending on how hard you wanted the cheese to be. It should be hard enough so that when you make small balls the size of an egg, it will not stick to your hand. You then place the cheese balls in a large jar and fill it up with canola or olive oil to avoid it from becoming moldy. It has a tart taste and is great on toast or pita bread. We still make Lebani at home but only three litres at a time. The other food item that comes to mind, is peanut butter mixed with molasses and spread on toast. I think this combination comes from our experience in Quebec . I had forgotten about it for many years until I was visiting an Acadian home up west and the first thing I saw on the kitchen table was ajar of peanut butter and molasses. My subconscious mind must of gone into high gear. The kitchen with it's plain but comfortable surroundings and with peanut butter and molasses on the table, sent me back to my very early years. It was a good feeling. My mother was a very sensitive, loving and caring person. She often worked in the store and enjoyed the close relationship with the customers. She spoke in broken English but was never afraid to try her best. We used to laugh at her when we heard how some of the sentences came out. On reflection I think that was very cruel and we should have known better. One incidence that happened that we thought was hilarious, even Mom, was when a farmer came into the store trying to sell some potatoes. She usually left the buying up to Dad and she wanted to say, "Please come back when my husband is here". What she actually said was, "Please come back when my husband is NOT here". 25