graille.media

Palestine.

Taste Diplomacy :
The Geopolitics of
Palestinian Cuisine

The Arabs used to say,
When a stranger appears at your door,
feed him for three days,
before asking who he is,
where he’s come from,
where he’s headed.

Naomi Shihab Nye, Red Brocade

her recipe old and passed
down through word of
hand creating and sustaining
substantial delicious

Suheir Hammad, Mama Sweet Baklava

One. Asylum applications.

You’ve travelled seven thousand kilometres in three weeks. You don’t have a residence permit, and you’re still a long way from French nationality. With your wife and two children, you came by bus and train from Pakistan. You lived on the Afghan border, working as a transporter for the Landi Kotal bazaar, just ten kilometres from the Taliban guerrillas. The Taliban murdered your brother, your father is missing, they threatened to kill you and, making it impossible to do business, you decided to flee ; flee Pakistan, flee your country, flee the violence. You’ve come all this way, your life in suitcases, to Paris, and here you are at number thirty-eight rue des Cheminots, in the delightful Porte de la Chapelle district of the 18th arrondissement, opposite the France terre d’asile building, in the long, interminable queue that will take you inside the organisation, where you’ll be allowed to explain your case.
     You’re hungry, thirsty, and the queue isn’t moving. Your only view : the towers, all around you, grey and without a hello, the fixed queue, and a little restaurant on your left. Ardi. You read : Palestinian cuisine. So you arrive in France, absolutely destitute, and your first culinary contact is with a colonised, mutilated and almost extinct land. There was an immediate resonance between the battered Palestine and your quest for asylum. You haven’t eaten anything all morning. You leave the queue for a moment to have a look at this restaurant. You go in and ask : How much is byriani ? The waiter tells you they don’t do that. Second try : How much is plain rice ? You learn that they don’t do that either, and that a dish costs fifteen. Your last attempt, so as not to leave empty-handed : How much is hot water ? The waiter, who would have liked to give you more, offers you the hot cup and says : Peace be upon you.
  While you waited for your glass of water, you spotted some magnificent dishes on the tables. Irdeh, Hebron’s speciality, a dome of rice with spices, chicken breast and chickpeas, and a plate of msakhan, a beautiful roasted chicken leg, placed on a round loaf and covered with caramelised onions, sumac¹, sprinkled with pink pomegranate seeds, parsley and toasted almonds. The author, who was enjoying himself at the time, poured a little yoghurt over the sweaty bread. By some force of the soul, you turned to him, who was stuffing his face, waving as if to bless him, without wanting anything else, your hand on your heart and smiling : Assalamu alaykum.

Two. Geopolitics of taste.

A thousand years of history. That’s the first thing we need to say about Palestinian cuisine. Palestine was Roman, Ottoman and has been under the yoke, occupation and violence of the Israeli regime since 1948. When you eat this cuisine, which is as old as the Mediterranean Sea, you are immediately drawn in by the many influences that are immediately apparent in the taste. In a single mouthful, we are offered a gustatory sentence, as long as the centuries, and as rich as the peoples who have shaped it. Greek sailors, Turks, Egyptians, Syrians, Lebanese or even Cypriots : who hasn’t left a part of themselves, via a flavour ? Aromatic synthesis of the Mediterranean basin. Fresh, seasoned and balanced cuisine.
Take sumac, for example. Reddish to violet in colour, it has a fruity, tangy taste with a hint of astringency. In short, it’s not so far removed from the profile of balsamic vinegar. We also need to revisit the history and geography of the Middle East to understand the life and customs of these drupes. High in iodine and used as a fragrant salt, this spice is loved from Tehran, through Syria and Lebanon, all the way to Jerusalem. Flavour as a vector of territorial unity. Flavour as a way of getting to know the world. (Geo)gastrology. Taste as a means of achieving peace. Gastrosophy. If you and I eat the same thing, we’re friends. Let’s cut to the chase and thank the boss and her crew.

 Three. Thank you, Rania.

Regal, regal, regal : what better word to use to describe Rania Talala’s Palestinian cuisine ? Gourmets will appreciate the fresh, white yoghurt – reminiscent of the Afghan use of this dairy product – which blends with the spicy tips, and the freshness of the salad, which accompanies and brightens up the greediness of the caramelised onions : all this mingles with the cosy, crusty bread, just taken from the grill, and invokes the blissful silence of a treat. For those unfamiliar with sumac, the sum total of flavour may seem a little salty, but it’s an illusion that disappears with each bite.

Four. Gaza’s blue gold.

Fish and chilli. Do these two words still sum up Gazan cuisine ? Can we still talk about crabs as if they were the blue gold of Gaza ? Does a menu still read : crabs stuffed with Gaza shatta² ? The reality is terrible, without artifice, and let’s not dream. Let’s remind ourselves of a few facts. The Israeli coastguard does not hesitate to shoot at Palestinian fishermen who stray more than sixteen nautical miles from the shore. As a result, the variety of fish species available is almost non-existent for the locals. What’s more, the Gazan fishermen sail on worn-out boats that are verging on the status of wrecks. This is because the settlers have placed an embargo on boat parts and engines, preventing any dignified repair of the vessels. Ironically, Gazan waters are cleaner and the price of fish is rising. So, to survive³, the fishermen export their few quality fish, and the population makes do with sardines so small that, in more normal times, they would not have been taken out of the water.
   The sardine kofta was born, ingeniously adapted and with a highly savoury reputation. It’s a ball of sardines, mixed with garlic, dill, parsley, lemon zest, sumac and red chilli, which is first fried, then put back in the oven and dipped in a bowl of fresh yoghurt. So, on paper, it’s a yes ?

Five. In the kitchens of the resistance, taste is the white flag.

  Cooking is a vehicle for peace: a single dish, if it’s good, can unite all oppositions. Cuisine is the highest form of resistance. The chef at Ardi knows this. The Abu Hasirah family in Gaza knows it too. Because from the choice of ingredients to the words, everything is identity, everything is culture : if the soul of a people is reflected and communicated through its food, nothing is more political than its diet. Food is the intelligence of a people’s heart. Discreetly, it is the rudder of their destinies. Change the menu and you change everything.
    When will there be peace ? The Israelis say they invented falafel, but they did not. The Israeli government is officially accused by the International Court of Justice and the United Nations of acts of genocide. When will there be peace ? When will there be a Palestinian state, one and indivisible ? Will we ever taste peace again in this region that bears the scars and divisions of its origins ? So many lives taken. And in this context, how can we dare talk about cooking ? For in these unspeakable days, is it not, with an immediate and lasting ceasefire, food that the Palestinian population essentially needs ? May their cuisine preserve and comfort them. So what can we do ? Start by supporting Palestinian restaurants in exile, and spreading hope through your voice. The final word. Forever, may Palestine live, and may peace be upon it, upon its opponents, in all hearts, in the Middle East and in all the nations of the Crust.

jean tertrain for @graille.media

1. In literary Arabic : سمّاق, meaning red. Currier’s sumac (Rhus coriaria) is known for the many pigments and gallotannins present in its fruit, but also in its leaves, bark and roots, which curriers or tanners use to finish and dye leather. It has also been used for thousands of years to colour wool for carpets.
2. Shatta is a condiment made from chillies, garlic and olive oil.
3. Opening a fish farm by the sea, mainly for dinees or sea bream, is becoming even more lucrative for some Gazans.