Two American freelance journalists on vacation in Lebanon went missing earlier this month, and Lebanon being Lebanon, we're all worried.

Taylor Luck, 23, and Holli Chmela, 27, arrived in Lebanon on September 29th from Amman, where they both work for the Jordan Times, an English-language Daily. (Ms. Chmela is reportedly on leave from the Washington Desk at the New York Times where she worked as a news assistant). According to the US Embassy -- which today sent out a press release seeking information about their whereabouts -- the two were last heard from on October 1st when they told a friend by phone that they were traveling from Beirut to the northern city of Tripoli, and then planning to cross by land to Syria. Taylor's mother told the Associated Press that her son hasn't used his credit card since that same day.

One of the reasons we're worried is that Tripoli has been a scene of fighting between Sunni Muslim extremist groups (possibly funded by Saudi Arabia) and Alawite Muslim groups (possibly supported by Syria.) A bomb targeting a Lebanese army bus exploded in Tripoli on Sep 29th. Did Taylor and Holli get dragged into this feud somehow? So far, no one has claimed any credit for their disappearance.

In the back of our minds, though, there's another reason to be worried. Between 1982 and 1992, 96 foreigners were taken hostage in Lebanon, including 25 Americans, possibly by groups related to Hizballah, and were used as pawns in regional political games. And though though there is no reason to suspect Hizballah this time -- north Lebanon is well outside their territory -- even the thought that some group out there may be reading from that old playbook is enough to make every foreigner in Lebanon shiver.

For now though, we just hope that Holli and Taylor are safe.

--Andrew Lee Butters/Beirut

photo by David Rubinger

Fighting words. A Lebanese gentleman wants to sue Israel for trying to steal its cuisine. "In a way the Jewish state is trying to claim ownership of traditional Lebanese delicacies like falafel, tabouleh and hummus" says Fadi Abboud, president of the Lebanese Industrialists Association. (An industralist? Shouldn't he be more worried about car tires than tabouleh?)

I decided to test the case of true ownership in Jerusalem's Old City. Yes, I confess. I was hungry. Follow the old Roman flagstones down the Via Dolorosa, past the two Armenian photo shops and the stalls selling everything from radical Palestinian kaffiyehs (Made in China) to dodgy 2nd Temple oil lamps, and you'll find Lina's, which makes the best hummus in all of the Holy Land.

So, who invented hummus? I asked the owner, Ghalib Zahdeh. Was it the Lebanese or the people of Palestine? (Let's face it; hummus wasn't exactly a favorite of the Ashkenazi Jews who flocked to Israel from Middle Europe. They brought recipes for gefilte fish and stodgy dumplings.)

“Who cares?” replied Zahdeh with a shrug. “Everybody makes good hummus around here –-except the Egyptians.”

He put a few plates of hummus on our table. There were puddles of pale-green olive oil on a mound of mashed chickpeas, garlic, a squeeze of lemon juice, and sesame seed paste. It was topped with a sprinkling of finely diced green peppers, and it was scrumptious.

Zahdeh, who runs Lina's with his brothers, only has five or six tables, but on weekends he'll serve 300 people, with a line snaking down the Via Dolorosa. Food archeologists, if such an outlandish profession exists, should be able to tell us if the Jerusalemites of Christ's day were eating hummus. Back then they certainly had chickpeas and all the other ingredients, except maybe lemons which were an exotic import from India that only ritzy Romans could afford. “Everyone comes to eat here… Arabs, Jews, tourists, even Americans,” said Zahdeh, interrupting my Biblical reverie. “My kid eats hummus two times a day, and look at him,” he said, pointing to a strapping teenager. “He's very healthy.”

I reminded him of the gauntlet thrown down by the Lebanese. So, I asked, “Who does hummus really belong to?”

“Look,” Zahdeh replied magnanimously. “If the Lebanese want the title, they can have it. Not worth fighting over it.”

Nations have gone to war over a woman, a bad roll of the dice, even the outcome of a football game. So why not over a chickpea-based condiment? I guess we're not that crazy, not yet.

by Tim McGirk/Jerusalem