For my dear Armenian friends, any occasion is a party. They are a party, a walking party in high heels, dispensing kisses and good cheer anywhere they go. Dinner at their place is always high in decibels and food... and drink. The rum baba was thoroughly soaked, soggy with alcohol, such heaven with all that whipped cream. The mystery tea infused in a glass pot, and was served pink and hot in small, pretty cups and saucers. As for the earlier courses (and my pics are in no particular order), it seems to me that if it can be served with pomegranates, anything goes.
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