Mouthfuls of history

Egypt, fabled land of pyramids, camels, the Nile, souks and donkeys.  Egypt was the first stop on our honeymoon cruise and I was filled with anticipation to finally see the land that I had studied, imagined and re-created in my day dreams.

I just loved seeing the food in Egypt.  As we would speed alongside a dusty, sluggish canal, traveling to an ancient site to see pyramids or mastaba, I was fascinated by the irrigated fields flashing by.  Rows of date palms stood in orderly rows for miles like sentinels on watch. Cabbages, grain or beans lay lush between well-ordered fields, the eternal sun glinting off the water in the ditches.  Groves of fruit trees shouldered against the canals, pomegranates ripening in the sun.  Everywhere, I saw history living out its endless cycle.  It is an ancient land filled with ancient food. Whenever we stopped to eat, I could taste the history.  I was struck by the continuity of this cuisine, food that has nourished this people for over five thousand years and continues to strengthen arms and fill stomachs. 

It was a land of contrasts for me.  Chaotic, bustling cities filled with people bumping against each other like so many balls in a pinball machine, each bouncing from one to the next in an endless sea of movement.  Quiet, eternal countryside, reminding the city dwellers of the changeless nature of Egypt, of continuity, of patience, of calm.  Restaurants with cuisine from around the world, the ubiquitous Chinese restaurant, English breakfasts, French pastries, and there, nestled proudly among these visitors, rich, garlicky hummus, stewed lentils, crisp greens with chickpeas glistening atop, sticky date pastries, rich in your mouth and warm in your hands.  It was for me an endless opportunity to watch trucks and donkey carts scamper past filled with dates, cabbages, grapes, pomegranates, chickens and goats, heading to markets and ultimately someone’s counter in their kitchen to be transformed into the evening meal.  Feeding their guy.  The same eternal cycle played out in a different kitchen but animated with the same love. 

Egypt, at first blush, was shocking to me, vastly different, rapid, noisy, dusty, demanding.  But under the surface, I saw home.  I saw the same love of food and family.  The same tastes that I enjoy in restaurants were here commonplace, ancient and available.  In the early mornings, the smell of warm bread often filled the air while the call to prayer sounded above the city.  There was a feeling of history that seems soaked into the land and the cuisine was no different; a stew of lentils that graced the tables of nobles in pharaoh’s Egypt was found for me on buffet tables and sidewalk restaurants.  The food had that the flavour of time, of olive oil, dates and chickpeas, of Nile fish, lamb and fowl.  Egypt that began so alien to me ended as a lesson in history, in continuity, in the power of food to define us and give us a place in our own histories.