Ramadan
The air is scented with oud incense wood chips; the date varieties are brought out in all their glory; the table spreads are generously presented; inner fortitude is called upon; the days are long and the nights can fly by. This month of fasting, which we are nearing the halfway mark of, unites Muslims all around the globe. The extent to which this religious custom is practiced can vary amongst different Muslims. That being said, for most who engage in it, this month brings a distinct air of tranquillity, peace, camaraderie and reflection.
One thing that’s ubiquitous in this month – and indeed one of the purposes behind fasting from sunrise to sunset – is the appreciation of food. The act of having to restrain yourself from grabbing a snack every time you feel peckish makes you really contemplate how lucky you are to always be able to indulge in such cravings or assuage your hunger during the rest of the year. It’s also a month in which, for many, everyday temporal worries and stressors are somewhat suspended. It’s not that those worries have disappeared, but the fasting and rituals around it puts them in perspective.
The communal goal of refraining from consuming food and drink, and to generally keep a balanced temperament while being more mindful of your actions and words, instinctively creates a more meditative atmosphere and can overshadow typical daily irritants. And there is something deeply empowering about keeping your cool even when your ‘hangry’ side is lurking just around the corner. There is a constant invitation to live in harmony and peace with your surroundings, reflect on your blessings, and try to spread that peace and those blessings as far and wide as you can.
Another emblematic facet of this month is the air of excitement during the final moments of the sunset, heralding the time to break the fast. Traditionally, the fast is broken with energy-packed dates and water, and complemented with replenishing juices, and in some regions, Arabic coffee. A more substantial meal comes later on, sometimes with a sugary dessert to compensate for the drop in blood sugar throughout the day – for example luqaimat, sweet and crunchy balls of fried dough, kunafa, a delicious treat of soft melty cheese sandwiched in shredded filo pastry, or atayif, mini pancakes stuffed with various fillings, such as white cheese and crushed pistachio, soaked in a rose sugary syrup.
In our childhood, some of the many Ramadan favourites we looked forward to included shorbat hab (oat groats cooked in a spiced, tomato-based velvety soup), and mouth-watering savoury pastries like fatayer or sambousak, filled with vegetables, meat or cheese. To satisfy our parched throats, we indulged in long-missed month like gamar al-din, a refreshing juice made from dried apricot sheets; lemonade with orange blossom water; and jallab, a drink served over ice that is prepared with date syrup, grape molasses, rose water and pomegranate syrup, and topped with pine nuts.
Like our overall cuisine, our Ramadan meals did not hark back from a single or uniform traditional source. Until relatively recently, we sometimes had to actually stop and ask ourselves (or parents) where a certain food or drink originated from. When growing up, it was never explicitly conveyed or made clear to us which of our cultures brought us the food or drink we were happily devouring. Hab, for example, comes from the Hejaz region of Saudi Arabia, where our father hails from, whereas the drinks of jallab and gamar al-din are staples of the Levant. Stemming from our love of and curiosity about our food and culture, we’re now much more acquainted with our culinary heritage. Though we loved to learn and be informed about the origins of our food traditions, at the end of the day they’re all equal parts of what we proudly and appreciatively call ‘our’ cuisine.
As we’ve grown and become the chefs of our own iftar (breaking of the fast), we don’t regularly indulge in the fanfare of typical iftar meals, opting for healthier, toned down versions. But one thing that hasn’t changed is the magical air that envelops this month, and the feelings of solidarity and harmony of the whole household and indeed global community striving towards the same thing: peace in oneself and towards others.