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A sweet tradition in the Middle East, and the US
Arabic pastries are a treat this time of year, and you don't have to go to the Middle East to find them.
During the holidays, as families gathered and traditional desserts made their appearance, I began to think of home. But not the Boston apartment I recently moved into, or my parents' house in L.A. My yuletide yearnings wandered to Beirut, Lebanon, which was my adopted home for the past two years, before I returned to the US this summer.
One treat in my daily life there had been the overwhelmingly sweet sensation of golden, flaky, nutty Arabic pastries. A patisserie on Bliss Street seemed to infuse all nearby sidewalks with its honeyed smell. The delightful scent enveloped me in a moment of sugary euphoria every morning when I turned onto the appropriately named road and every evening on my way home.
Arabic sweets are to the Middle East what Christmas cookies are to the US: festive treats meant to be shared among family and friends.Densely packed, these sweets are best enjoyed in tiny bites about the size of a peanut M&M. Varieties abound and differ by region, but usually involve flour, phyllo dough, semolina, sugar, butter, eggs, pistachios, or dates, which are molded and baked to golden, pleasing rotundity. Holidays come richly arrayed in qataif, kaak, and other traditional nut- or fruit-filled sweets and pastries.
December and January host a number of holidays celebrated in the Middle East: Muslims' Eid al-Adha falls on the final days of this year, for instance, while Orthodox churches celebrate Christmas on Jan. 7. With so many good reasons to feast, I thought, someone in Boston must be making the treats.
So I went looking for immigrant families who had brought with them the tradition of Arabic sweets. In the pursuit, I got to sample my favorite golden pastries for the first time since leaving Beirut. And I got a taste of the close family ties, hospitality, and loud group gatherings that characterized some of my fondest Middle Eastern memories.
Karima Salman and her husband, Khaled, moved in with their daughter in Cambridge, Mass., to help take care of their new grandchild, leaving behind their small Palestinian town near Ramallah, in the West Bank. In addition to being a full-time nanny, Karima has taken on the traditional matriarchal duty of providing Arabic desserts for family and friends. On the morning of my visit, she prepared a pan of layaly libnan – a semolina-based cake topped with cream and chopped nuts.
In Middle Eastern households, Khaled told me, every woman knows how to make these sweets. They also give kids an opportunity to have fun in the kitchen. Molding a doughy ball around a colorful pistachio-cinnamon center to make mamoul is a treat for little hands. "Eat sweets, have a good time, make the kids happy," he philosophized.
In the US, Karima has double the December holidays to prepare for. "As Muslims, we celebrate Eid al-Adha," her husband explained. The "festival of the sacrifice" refers to the story of Abraham and his son Isaac, which is found in Islam, Christianity, and Judaism. "But in America, we also celebrate Christmas."
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