Congratulations on Your Misery!

ONCE UPON a time, when the world was very much younger and I was surely much more wicked, I taught English to foreign students. My students, to show their appreciation for having their heads stuffed with noun-verb agreements, would hold dinner parties in their homes and stuff me full of their native home cooking. Whenever the mood took Abdulaziz to be hospitable, I slavered like a Pavlov pooch. This was so because Abdulaziz, prince of the royal line and all-round good sort, had the good fortune to be married to Aisha, who knew all mortals could know about hummis bi taheeni, kupsah, moussaka, and juicy joints of lamb.