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Hospitality is an important part of my Lebanese heritage. Preparing food has traditionally been a way to honor loved ones and guests, especially since each dish requires many steps and is made from scratch, often taking hours to prepare.

My father continued this tradition, while I was growing up, cooking Lebanese dishes at home. What made the meals even more memorable was that he used a mortar and pestle passed down to him from his grandmother. I remember it as the one indispensable kitchen tool that we reached for, no matter the type of food we were making. While the mortar and pestle is itself a simple instrument that has been used for thousands of years the world over, for me it represents a deeper layer of connection, emotion and history.

Oral Tradition. We referred to grandma's wooden set by its Lebanese names, the jorn (mortar) and the modaqqa (pestle). We grew up simply calling the pair modaqqa, which we pronounced "un-DAHT-uh." I suspect that regional differences account for the way our family pronounced the word. Just as occurred with the recipes that were passed down orally from one person to the next — often with small changes to account for taste and available ingredients — it would be easy to imagine how sounds were changed and words were dropped.

ROASTED ROSEMARY AND GARLIC POTATOES Using the modaqqa to prepare this classic recipe preserves flavor while avoiding the coarse, woody texture of dried rosemary. 1 1/2 pounds new potatoes, scrubbed and quartered 1/4 cup olive oil, divided into halves 1 teaspoon dried rosemary 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt 1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper 2 cloves garlic, peeled Heat oven to 450. Place potatoes in single layer in a 13" x 9" baking dish. Drizzle half of oil over potatoes and toss to coat. Using the modaqqa, grind rosemary into a near powder. Add salt and pepper and sprinkle mixture over potatoes, tossing until evenly distributed. Mash garlic into a chunky paste using the modaqqa, add to remaining oil and set aside. Roast potatoes for 15 minutes, tossing every 5 minutes. Add garlic oil, toss and roast undisturbed for an additional 15 - 20 minutes or until potatoes are fork-tender with golden brown edges. Serves 4 - 6

Cooking with Grandma. What I do know is that we often reached for the modaqqa, using it for everything from mixing spices to chipping ice (not recommended, as the modaqqa will become seasoned over time, leaving your ice tasting of spices!). It sat proudly on the counter, always handy, and was so simple — even children could understand the concept of pounding in a bowl — that we used it at every opportunity.

Originally, Lebanese women used the modaqqa to pound meat into a paste to make kibbee, a dish made with lamb or beef, bulgur and pine nuts. It was said that every villager knew the sound of kibbee being made. Having the advantage of butchers who would double-grind the meat for her, my great-grandmother used her modaqqa primarily for crushing the onions and garlic to make her kibbee.

Today's chefs might find it tedious to use a mortar and pestle, but its use does produce the most authentic taste. Food processors, while certainly faster, can change the flavors of foods like garlic, which become hot and bitter when over-processed. Crushing garlic with the modaqqa, however, keeps it sweet and nutty-tasting. Processors also tend to burn off aromas, while pounding by hand has the opposite effect, enhancing the true flavors of a spice or herb

Truth and Beauty. While uses of the modaqqa are nearly endless — coarsely crushing nuts, cracking pepper or grinding seeds into pastes — cleaning is a snap. Simply wipe with a cloth or rinse with water. It is truly pleasing to me to think of the simple beauty of such a versatile and lasting tool.

It is amazing to think that my mother still uses my great-grandmother's wooden modaqqa, which has served a century's chefs without complaint. My own newer version is pleasing, too. I enjoy the feel of the smooth marble in my hand as I beat out a rhythm. I like that it takes up very little physical space and yet, as it adorns the countertop, commands my attention, reminding me of those who have gone before all of us cooking, serving and gracing others with simple hospitality.

Lisa Tiffin is a freelance writer from upstate New York. She often reaches for her modaqqa when cooking for her sons and husband. Visit her at www.lisatiffin.com.

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