The Cuisine of Cairo
November 16, 2006

The pungent air hangs like gauze soaked in cardamon, exhaust, and the sweat of 21 million people bustling for survival. The women, swaddled in layers of cloth, routinely courting death sprint across wide streets filled with speeding bumper car rejects. At the crossroads of Africa and Asia, life teems with unvarnished riots of color and aromatic heat. Pyramids of saffron, sweet melon, and cabbage balance alongside ancient carts heaped with greens and bananas in a marketplace where butchers proudly carve fly–crusted meat for the masses.

Children spot you and shout “Halloo!” and “Amerikans!” and with every step you feel freakishly foreign yet warmly welcomed. There is an exotic energy to the streets that is scary yet intoxicating. The poorest hawker will offer you a cup of tea or a coke if you happen to be shopping around 4:00, the ‘hour of hospitality.’ Custom requires gracious acceptance, even to the offer of a cigarette, considered a special compliment. The call to prayer is a bewitching, mournful wail that permeates the city’s loudspeakers 5 times daily as the devout hustle to pray. No matter where you go in Cairo there is always an arrow, even on the ceiling of a hotel room, pointing you towards Mecca. And the famous Nile flows like a powerful snake through the middle of this choreographed chaos, calmly protective of those who dwell in this compelling city.

Last week I visited my daughter, Kate, a student at the American University Cairo, along with my mom, and a dear friend. Cairo had never been on the top ten of travel destinations for any of us, but when this opportunity arose we all jumped, albeit warily. Our friends thought we were crazy. We wondered: will we be safe? What will we do? And then, more enthusiastically, what will we eat?!

We felt completely safe and received a welcome sweeter than the honey soaked Kounafa we ate everyday of Ramadan. We stayed away from street food, eating in places that had treats like molasses with blue cheese and fresh figs on brown bread. Breakfast was often hearty leftovers, as well as eggs, yogurt and smoked fish. Everyday we ordered mezze, an arrangement of bowls filled with fatoush (cucumber and tomato salad), tahini (ground sesame seeds and oil), hummus (chickpea mash), baba ganoush (eggplant puree), and olives, accompanied by fresh pita bread, often baked right in front of us. Artful nicoise salads, seafood pizza, calamari tempura, and poached fresh bass were favorite lunches. Grape leaves stuffed with rice and mint, shawarma (lamb or chicken on a rotisserie), beef kabobs, chicken curry, and cilantro studded jasmine rice were evening meals. Desserts were plentiful during the holiday of Ramadan: pistachio decked Baklava, rich date tarts, and Umm Ali (a hot raisin cake). Cairo is mysteriously exotic at first, but for those of us who favor a Mediterranean diet, well, Bismillah! (bon appetit). We were right at home in the global kitchen.

Kim Dannies is a graduate of La Varenne Cooking School in France. She lives in Williston, VT with her husband, Jeff, and three college–aged daughters who come and go. ©2008