Flavours unleashed: The rich tapestry of food in Arabic literature

Ziryab: The blackbird of Arab cuisine

Farouk Mardam-Bey, a Syrian historian and publisher, is one of few modern Arab literary figures to hold a fascination with oriental cuisine.

In a research paper on the tangible aspects of Arab civilisation, he refers to 19th-century publications – found in the Lebanese magazine, 'Al-Mashreq' – penned by his compatriot, and fellow historian, Habib al-Zayyat, discussing various dishes, recipes, and fruits of Damascus.

Al-Zayyat also authored a book titled 'Culinary Arts of the Islamic Civilisation', in which he cited several historical sources that dove into the preparation techniques of classic dishes, and analysed the linguistic origins of their names.

Mardam-Bey was inspired by al-Zayyat, though his own work was lost for some time.

He wrote articles in French on the art of Arabic cooking, which he published in Qantara magazine. Unfortunately, these foreign language publications remained missing from Arab libraries up until 2015, when the Emirati 'Kalima' translation project – and more specifically, Jean Jabbour's translation – finally brought his seminal work to light.

Mardam-Bey's works have now found their rightful place among pioneers of culinary exploration in a diverse Arab world.

The Syrian writer chose to relate the kitchen to renowned musician Abu al-Hasan Ali ibn Nafi, nicknamed Ziryab (another word for blackbird, owing to the melodious sound of his voice), a musician who showed a keen interest in the culinary arts in Andalusia and introduced unique culinary techniques and innovations to the dining table. 

In his book 'Ziryab's Kitchen', Mardam-Bey presents a spread of recipes, dedicating each chapter to a specific type of cuisine, all of which orbit the versatile yet oft-underestimated eggplant.

According to him, the elites unfairly disparaged and mocked this particular ingredient.

Due to their aristocratic haughtiness, he said, they belittled the black vegetable, which was so popular among the poor and downtrodden, to the point where some Europeans bestowed upon it degrading names, such as 'the crazy apple' or 'the rotten egg.'

And yet, the eggplant holds such a special place among all Arabs, from Marrakesh to Muscat.

In one chapter, Mardam-Bey shifts his focus to brown fava beans. He describes the social significance of the delicious legumes, saying:

"Brown fava beans are often labelled as 'the meat of the poor man.' However, this notion confines its consumption to a particular social class – despite its very nutritious nature. Fava beans are of universal significance, and besides their high value of protein and mineral salts, they contain several secrets of ancient human existence."

"Even, perhaps, the greatest secret of all – the secret of life and death. That is why, some 4,000 years ago, the priests of ancient Egypt (the original land of the fava bean) referred to the abode of the dead, who awaited their reincarnation, as 'The Field of Beans'."

All in all, Mardam-Bey's book is an explosion of flavours – a rich, layered exploration of local cuisines spanning several countries. It sinks its teeth into culinary arts that are often shrouded in mystery, such as those of Algeria, while also featuring more familiar cuisines like those of Turkey and Italy.

Alongside beans and eggplant, the book covers various essential ingredients such as dates, apricots, saffron, rice, couscous, and grapes.

The sum of these parts, of course, are dishes we've come to know and love: The Gulf's date syrup-infused rice, Syria's makdous fatteh, Tunisia's apricot broth (and their green fava bean stew), Morocco's saffron-glazed sweet potato (and their masfuf), Algeria's raisin-adorned meat, Palestine's maqluba, Egypt's molokheya (and Alexandria's omelette), Lebanon's rice pudding and many others.

A star-struck boy and philosophy of food

But recipes only scratch the surface of our reading list.

Food often can, and does, take on a new meaning in literature.

In 'Kohl and Cardamom', Egyptian novelist Omar Taher displays his unique fascination with gastronomy through a fictional plot, combining the witty tale of a star-struck boy with the philosophy of food. His comprehensive approach not only captivates us but appeals to our taste buds.

Our young protagonist Abdallah is counting down the days (five, to be exact) to a concert featuring famous Egyptian singer, Muhammad Munir. But as his story unfolds, Abdallah grows into a lonely young man desperate for love.

When he reflects on the flow of his life, he relates it to food:

"Nothing tastes better than food cooked slowly inside a clay pot, a resemblance, somehow, to one's accumulating life experiences. Meanwhile, the fruits I buy from the market hold no guarantee, a gamble just like one's emotional inclinations."

"Bread, however, is a constant reminder that it takes two to tango. And after all, when someone grows up, he runs away from his family, just like a well-cooked piece of meat splits from the bone that used to bind it."

The novel simmers with such rich details. Taher navigates between Abdallah's past and present, combining nostalgia with life's mundane details and the hardships in between.

The story comes together like a meal, prompting the reader to reflect on their relationship to food, its impact on mood, and its influence on interpersonal relationships.

Ultimately, it captures the ongoing struggle between yearning for a cherished past reminiscent of cardamom, and finding solace in the enigmatic allure of the present, much like kohl-streaked eyes.

Bread, the culinary delight of existence

Another modern Arabic novel largely based on food culture is 'Bread on Uncle Milad's Table' by Libya's Mohammed Alnaas. Winning the International Booker Prize in 2022, the novel stirred controversy and resentment amongst Arabs, as it defied conventional gender roles deeply ingrained in Oriental tradition.

Milad, the novel's protagonist, shuns social conventions and chooses to stay home to take care of the kitchen while granting his wife her full freedom to be the breadwinner of the house.

But it soon becomes apparent that Milad's passion for culinary arts predates his marriage. As a young man growing up alongside his sisters, he found a collective solace in the act of making bread, using it as a coping mechanism to navigate life's challenges. 

Milad says: "My mood has always been connected to bread. I've never been more connected to anything in my life. When I served in the military, I would suffer for being away from the loaves I kept in my dormitory. I was in a terrible mood after that, due to the mere loss of desire to make bread and connect with it once again.

"The worst of it arrived in the days after my failed attempts at making flatbread – those days were unbearable."

"At any rate, whenever I step into the kitchen to start kneading dough, I pour all my fears, happiness, ambitions, greed, aspirations, sadness, depression, lust, tears, doubts, eagerness, serenity, tranquillity, anxieties, and worries into it, and I see them reflected back to me in its form."

To Milad, the act of making bread served as nothing more than a way for him to survive the complexities of existence.

We see him as remarkably sensitive, both in his interactions with women and his approach to life. He rejects traditionally masculine traits that his peers, meanwhile, brag about.

He finds himself living in isolation until he eventually meets a wife with whom he embarks on a new journey. However, societal condemnation and scrutiny continue to plague him.

Alnaas masterfully constructs Milad's world, and his novel, by interweaving it with the theme of food, bread being at the core. Through his depiction of the baker's world and meticulous portrayal of his life's intricacies, he moulds a narrative that gradually takes shape, akin to dough rising over a gentle flame.

A story told by the scent of a kitchen

Unlike Milad, whose entire world revolves around the act of baking, Shaima Hisham Saad's 'The Secret Life of the Residents of Nima's Kitchen' offers a window to the hidden truths and relationships of a household, as told through a kitchen and its tools.

Quite literally.

The reader is first introduced to all the appliances of the kitchen, including the refrigerator, washing machine and gas oven, as well as spoons, plates and cups. Each of these items has a role to play by a specific family member. Meanwhile, the 'scent of the kitchen' is our omnipresent narrator, skillfully unravelling fragments of the residents' lives (and culminating in a plot twist).

What the kitchen tells us

"Every marriage needs a period of time for both husband and wife to get along and establish a stable relationship. As the scent of this house's kitchen, I've closely watched the development of Nima's marriage, and her mood swings as reflected by her cooking."

"I must say that such a period of time must not last too long, as the marriage might burn out in anticipation of a harmony that never comes."

"Meanwhile, it shouldn't be too short, resulting in a faulty marriage foundation that might be blown away by the first gust of wind. Time is key. Each couple needs time to face obstacles and for their relationship to be cooked to maturity on the flame of life's challenges."

Throughout the novel, we follow the family's ups and downs through well-known recipes.

Starting with sayyadiyah (fish) and stuffed cabbage, and progressing to spiced pumpkin cake and green molokheya with a delightful texture. The welcoming of a child brings forth the maghat drink, but during cold, rainy days, a comforting bowl of lentil soup proves to be the ideal remedy.

The author adeptly navigates between homemade food recipes and household dynamics.

With each recipe, she skillfully weaves in ingredients and instructions for preparation, breaking down how each thing interacts with the next. This, in turn, mirrors the impact that certain happenings have on the relationships of the book.

The novel beautifully brings together its protagonists, whether they are people or tools, to create a delightful blend that is both entertaining and inspiring.

A chef who kills, and an author who dies nonetheless

Some authors have gone down even more unexplored roads in their explorations.

For instance, the immensely unique offering 'The Cook Kills and the Author Commits Suicide' by Egyptian author Izzat al-Qamhawi presents a rare look into the coexistence of culinary and literary arts, engaging readers with engaging interviews and clever exchanges between these two worlds.

The author delves into the connection between human societies and storytelling/gastronomy alike. Al-Qamhawi examines the relationship between a chef and an author, stating:

"A cook only slaughters when there is someone there to appreciate his act, someone to enjoy the ghosts he serves on a plate, and then thank him for foolishly taking on the task of plucking all those souls on behalf of others. An author, on the other hand, differs slightly from the cook. He doesn't kill, so much as he commits suicide."

"The main source of sacrifice for his novel remains his own soul. The novelist pens his pains and fears, lending each character fragments of his thoughts, memories, and dreams. The author's utmost endeavour in this process is to conceal any trace of his own life and identity, essentially annihilating his soul to give birth to a phantom."

Al-Qamhawi underscores a passion for writing, contemplation and listening to one's soul and spirit. These elements bear immense importance for any dedicated author, akin to the meticulous preparations of a masterful chef before unveiling a noteworthy meal.

Meanwhile, Al-Qamhawi stresses an author's urge to seek seclusion away from worldly affairs, resorting to all means to achieve success while always remaining hidden in the shadows.

Furthermore, Al-Qamhawi makes a distinction between novels and poetry and the role each art form plays in society, saying:

"Since we're on the topic of language and letters, we can say that if poetry is akin to sweets, then novels are like bread. Novels are an essential component of daily life. The moment man discovered how to bake bread, he overcame his fear of starving to death; having something to eat no longer depended on a hunter's luck or seasonal fruits.

"Similarly, once man discovered novels, he became a master on Earth, closer than ever to controlling his own fate; his novels became the repository for his ideas, dreams, and memories."

"In this way, the novel became an indispensable written document next to which other forms of literature paled, just as bread became an indispensable accompaniment to any food – or even a treat all on its own, fresh out of the oven."

Al-Qamhawi thrills us as he examines both the author and his tools, and the cook and the world that he inhabits.

In 'The Wisdom of Form', he says it all comes down to details. Regardless of a story's simplicity, a skilled author can always find a way to carve out a space for it in the arena of world classics.  He returns to the example 'One Thousand and One Nights' time and again – an ordinary tale transformed into an extraordinary story, all thanks to its author.

'The Cook Kills and the Author Commits Suicide' is inspired by the brilliance of renowned novelists such as Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Mario Vargas Llosa, and Naguib Mahfouz, all of whom illustrate an author's ability to craft captivating plots and intricate storylines, just as skilled chefs expertly wield their tools and elevate their ingredients, ultimately serving a delectable feast.