This Utah family fled Syria as the bombs fell — and almost all they took with them were recipes

 'Yassir Alzoubi loves to cook. His chicken shawarma and falafel are right out of Syria and sing with Middle Eastern flavors.

 The recipes Yassir holds close to his heart are among the few things he and his family brought from their southern Syrian village that was practically bombed out of existence near the city of Daraa.

 Yassir and his wife, Manal, have three sons, ages 17, 12 and 8, and 15-year-old twin daughters. They now live in Midvale with the children's grandmother, Soubhieh Abdullah, 81.

 The family members escaped with little but the clothes on their backs in March 2013, when Syrian government bombers flattened Khirbet Ghazaleh, their suburban town of 30,000. During a pause in the bombing, they caught a ride in a van to the southernmost village in Syria and then walked 15 miles into Jordan. There, they lived in the Zaatari refugee camp for 2½ years.

 These days, the Alzoubis keep memories of home alive with traditions, the most sensory of which is food.

 Daraa, a city of about 1 million in southwestern Syria is about 55 miles south of Damascus. It is sometimes called the "cradle of the revolution," because protests erupted there when a dozen boys were arrested for painting anti-government graffiti. That, some say, sparked the Arab Spring in Syria and the rebellion in 2011.

 Later that year, bombs began to fall in and around Daraa. Many nights, the family retired to the safety of the basement. But it was difficult to sleep with explosions all around, said Mohammed, the 17-year-old.

  Yassir and Manal were both educators in Khirbet Ghazaleh, which also was home to engineers, physicians and other professionals, he explained proudly.

 "It's a special place. People there cared about each other," Yassir said through a translation by Mohammed.

 They had built a new house in 2007, Yassir said. "Our home is gone now — bomb."

 Yassir and his siblings also owned a small farm nearby, where they grew wheat, olives, tomatoes and watermelon.

 "It was good land," Yassir said. "It was good for growing."

 As he prepared a large number of chicken shawarma sandwiches, Yassir recalled his older brother, who is still in Syria.

 "No place is safe in Syria," he said. "When we got out of there, the situation was very bad. But now it is worse."

 Mohammed translated for his father: "The government does not help people," he said. "It turned against them and started killing them."

 Yassir and Manal were both educators in Khirbet Ghazaleh, which also was home to engineers, physicians and other professionals, he explained proudly. "It's a special place. People there cared about each other," Yassir said through a translation by Mohammed. 

 They had built a new house in 2007, Yassir said. "Our home is gone now — bomb." Yassir and his siblings also owned a small farm nearby, where they grew wheat, olives, tomatoes and watermelon. "It was good land," Yassir said. "It was good for growing."

 As he prepared a large number of chicken shawarma sandwiches, Yassir recalled his older brother, who is still in Syria. "No place is safe in Syria," he said. "When we got out of there, the situation was very bad. But now it is worse." Mohammed translated for his father: "The government does not help people," he said. "It turned against them and started killing them."

 Although they put on a hopeful face, the transition to a new country and culture is not easy.

 "We didn't know anyone here," Manal said. "But people in America are very nice. We are happy to be in Utah."

 Nonetheless, she pines for her homeland and the brother and sister she left behind. "My hope is that my family can join us here."

 Yassir, too, misses Syria. "It's sad," he said through Mohammed. "I spent most of my life there, so it is hard to leave." '