“A big plate of warm, freshly baked ma’amoul reminds me of my home in Lebanon.” Nadine, my 18-year-old best friend, traveled over 5,600 miles to America to escape danger in Lebanon and start a new life with her family in New York. Fire rockets, missiles, and bombs destroyed the country and her home in Tripoli, Lebanon. Despite the bleak past, Nadine still looks forward to visiting her home country this summer. What does she miss the most? “Definitely the food!”
In Lebanon, food is an ideal way to celebrate all types of occasions, from partying on Eid to celebrating a baby’s first tooth. Every year Nadine patiently waits to devour her mother’s famous ma’amoul, a cookie-like pastry stuffed with pistachios, walnuts, almonds, or most traditionally, dates. The pastry is very popular in countries along the Mediterranean coast. In fact, both Christians and Muslims eat this pastry on special occasions and holidays. In Nadine’s family, this delicacy is reserved for Eid in celebration of the end of Ramadan. “Every Eid I would help my mom make five or six batches of ma’amoul,” she says proudly. “We would make a medjool filling, shape them into rolls, decorate them by hand, and sprinkle powdered sugar on top. Everyone loved my mom’s recipe!”
In America, medjool dates are not easily found. These dates, also known as the king of the dates, are very big, juicy, and sweet. However, few people can afford to buy this expensive treat. Luckily, Nadine’s upper-middle-class family can afford to buy these special dates at least three times a year to celebrate Eid and other special occasions. Socioeconomic status plays a major role in the flavor of a dish. Only the rich and wealthy people can afford the savory and healthy ingredients to put in their dishes.
Socioeconomic status plays a major role in the flavor of a dish.
“Whenever I take a bite of ma’amoul, I flash back to my home country” she said. “My step-mom makes ma’amoul once in a while, but it’s not as good as ummi, my real mom’s. It really makes me miss her.” Lately, Nadine is putting her cooking skills to the test. Every Ramadan she tries to mimic her mom’s recipe, but the recipe book, along with Nadine’s belongings, ended in rubble after her home collapsed in Lebanon. “My abbi, my father, is the real taste-tester. He remembers what ma’amoul from ummi tasted like. He closes his eyes and tells me, ‘Add more medjool,’ or ‘Ya ilahi that’s too much sugar!’ I’m still in trial and error mode.”
Other dishes such as mouhalabieh, tabbouleh, or kibbeh remind Nadine of Lebanon, but ma’amoul serves as special link between her present and past, her mother, and her family back in Lebanon. “Even the smell takes me all the back to Tripoli. Back to the good times when there was no war and everyone was always happy. And when I go back home this summer the first thing they’ll feed me is ma’amoul, and the first thing I’ll do is cry because I missed it so much.”
And when I go back home this summer the first thing they’ll feed me is ma’amoul, and the first thing I’ll do is cry because I missed it so much.”
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