Sheila Mann’s paternal grandfather, Eliahu El Mann, owned two grocery stores in the heart of the Jewish Quarter. Her father came from a very old Lebanese family, while her mother’s family, Marcelle Srour, was originally from Damascus, Syria.
Eliahu was well-known throughout the neighborhood—elegant and always wearing his signature red fez (tarboosh). His specialties included candy apples, bright red and sugar-coated on a stick, and pickled cucumbers, which he fished out of a large wooden barrel with his bare arm, placing them into glass jars for eager customers.
Sheila spent hours sitting on a small stool inside the store, inhaling the scents of wet and dry goods—flour, sweets, essences, and exotic spices. She watched in awe as her grandfather conducted the steady rhythm of customers, as if orchestrating a symphony. But what fascinated her most was his red fez, always perfectly balanced on his head, never once falling off.