A few months ago, my friend Karen, an Armenian American, made a veritable feast of Armenian food for our two families to enjoy together. 

It was a delightful meal. There was an abundance of fantastic food, so many dishes to try and enjoy. Salad. Pitas. Rice pilaf with toasted nuts and currants. Chicken and pepper kebabs. Muhammara, a red pepper and walnut dip enlivened with pomegranate juice. Cheese boreg, a rich and savory cheese pastry made with phyllo dough. 

It was an incredibly gracious gesture, this meal. It was also a vulnerable one. 

In an interview with Terry Gross on Fresh Air, the chef Anthony Bourdain said, “When somebody's offering you food, they're telling you a story. They're telling you what they like, who they are. Presumably, it's a proud reflection of their culture, their history, often a very tough history. You turn your nose up at that important moment, the whole relationship changes, and it will never be the same.”

Karen’s great-grandfather was a successful baker in Armenia who owned several bakeries. In 1916, his family fled Armenia in fear for their lives during the Armenian genocide. They went first to Aleppo, Syria. Many of them eventually settled in the United States. Karen’s grandmother and her sisters, daughters of the baker, all became excellent cooks and bakers themselves. They brought the traditions of Armenian food with them as they left their homeland and taught their children and grandchildren how to make this food as well. Karen spent hours in the kitchen with her mother when she was small, learning and helping. 

When Karen cooked for my family, when she made this Armenian food that she treasures so deeply, she was saying, “Here I am. Here is my story. I trust you with it.”

I found this food incredibly comforting. It was so delicious, so obviously filled with love. I asked Karen if she would mind sharing a few of the recipes with me so I could make them at home. She very kindly did share, answering my (many) questions and giving me innumerable tips to make the dishes turn out the best they could be.

If serving this food to my family was vulnerable, sharing her family’s beloved recipes was even more so. This is the food of Karen’s people, not mine. I am not Armenian. I am an outsider. I am not part of this story.

By sharing these recipes, though, Karen invited me to be part of it. 

She invited me to be a guest in her story. 

It can be humbling, being a guest. When someone offers me their story, the truth of who they are, how do I hold that tenderly? How do I enter a world that I’m not a part of and honor traditions I know little or nothing about? How can I accept these gifts with the grace with which they are given to me?

When I cook one of Karen’s recipes, I try my best to fulfill the role of a good guest. I cook with respect. I do not make changes just for the sake of making it my own. When I serve it, I talk about who taught me. I also share what it means to her. I do not appropriate the recipe. I appreciate it.

This business of not claiming what is not yours to be claimed often feels antithetical to our cultural understanding of success. The temptation to Columbus is ingrained deeply in me. It takes conscious effort to fight it, to accept my role as a guest rather than the host. But I do fight it. What worth would my story have if it wasn't truly mine? 

So today, as I share Karen’s recipe for delicious Armenian cheese boreg, I say to you: 

This recipe is not my own. 
The story behind it is not mine. 
I am only a guest in someone else’s story.

Cheese boreg goes by many names: berag, boereg, borag, borek. Karen tells me that traditionally it was served as small triangular hand pies, but modern cooks have made it less labor-intensive by layering the phyllo and cheese in a baking dish. Sometimes sheets of phyllo dough are torn in the package; make sure to save a whole one for your top layer. This is a spectacular dish to serve to a crowd; holidays, family gatherings, potlucks. It will be a hit at all. There is about a pound and a half of cheese in it, after all. 

Cheese Boreg

Ingredients:
2 sticks unsalted butter
12 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese
12 ounces shredded muenster cheese
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
4 ounces crumbled feta cheese
3 eggs
1/2 pound phyllo dough, thawed according to package instructions (about 20 sheets)

Directions:
In a small saucepan over low heat, heat the butter until melted. Continue to keep warm.

In a large bowl, beat 2 of the eggs. Add the mozzarella, muenster, cream cheese and feta, and stir until thoroughly combined.

Remove the phyllo dough from packaging and place on a large baking sheet. Cover with a damp towel, and keep covered to prevent it from drying out.

Brush the bottom of a 9x13 pan with butter. Carefully peel off 2 sheets of phyllo dough and layer one on top of the other in the pan. Brush the top sheet of phyllo with butter. Repeat until there are 10 sheets of phyllo layered in pan. 

Carefully spread the cheese mixture over the phyllo dough; I found this easiest to do with a rubber spatula and my hands. You will have a very thick layer of cheese. Get excited about all this cheese.

Just like you did previously, layer 2 sheets of phyllo dough, brush with butter, and repeat until you have 10 more sheets of phyllo layered. I found it helpful to try to tuck the edges of the dough down into the pan to avoid a pileup of phyllo dough around the edge of the pan.

Beat the remaining egg lightly in a small bowl. Brush the top layer of dough with the egg. Place pan in refrigerator and chill for 30 minutes. Continue to keep the butter warm over low heat, or re-melt it after chilling time is done.

After chilling, preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cut the boreg into squares with a sharp knife; you choose what size. Using a spoon, drizzle a small amount of the melted butter onto cut corners of the squares; this will help keep the top layer of phyllo in place while baking. Bake for 25 - 30 minutes, or until top layer of dough has puffed and is golden brown. Serve warm (although leftovers are awesome cold for breakfast). Yield: between 12 - 20 squares, depending on your preference.