Cape Times

Fond tribute to an elusive way of life

BETHLEHEM: A CELEBRATIO­N OF PALESTINIA­N FOOD

FADI Kattan is a Franco-Palestinia­n who divides his time between running a restaurant called Fawda in Bethlehem and another named Akub in London.

Any book written these days about life in Bethlehem, where Kattan's heritage dates back generation­s, is bound to be tied up to the current political situation. His book not only pays homage to his Palestinia­n heritage but is a deeply evocative and moving memoir of a way of life that has unravelled due to the effects of the ongoing occupation of Bethlehem and other Palestinia­n towns and the onset of the war in Gaza. There is a word in Arab for the resilience needed when dealing with loss and tragedy – it is “sumood,” and many, as Kattan writes, have needed it in large doses as they have lived through these tumultuous times.

When Kattan was born in Bethlehem, a hilly town nestled among olive groves and rocky hills, just outside Jerusalem, there was a way of life that was gentle and filled with the warmth and comfort of family gatherings and religious holidays. Much had to do with tradition. Needless to say, food played a central part in his upbringing as shared meals were a pivotal part of life in those days.

The book, as it takes us through this much “storied” city, is divided into the four seasons and within each are the recollecti­ons of the time spent with both family and traders and food suppliers. One of the many poignant memories that Kattan relates is the breakfast he shared every day with his father Baba Fuad as a child growing up. Warm bread straight out of the oven from the Salesian bakery, kmaj (pitas), fried eggs and a host of dishes that Baba

Fuad would take out of the fridge – creamy labneh (strained yoghurt), chunks of white cheese covered in olive oil and an array of fresh vegetables – simple yet delicious.

On a more sumptuous note, Christmas, as described by Kattan, was always a joyous affair of the large extended family descending on their house with a table laden with roasted turkey and lamb and much, much more. Kattan recalls with warmth and nostalgia the abundant Christmas cake made with so much fruit and nuts that the actual dough was merely the token “glue” that bound the jewelled contents together. Reading the book, and looking at the amazing photograph­s, caused a sense of almost unbearable longing for me, having lived in the area of Talpiyot in Jerusalem, where my small apartment overlooked the gentle hills of this ancient city Bethlehem. On a Friday, one could hear the resonant cry of the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer from the nearby mosque, the wailing siren notifying of the oncoming Jewish Shabbat or Sabbath and the melodious ring of church bells from the Old City that spread across the Hinnom Valley and reached our surrounds.

Today, while many things have changed, memories hold strong of our frequent visits to eateries around Bethlehem, some mere hole in the walls but where the food was stupendous. Beit Jala, which one reached by putting one's car in high gear to climb the steep hill, had a tiny restaurant which was famed for its delicious grilled butterflie­d chicken, served with fresh pita and punnets of a smooth creamy garlic dip and another of hummus. Ice cold Goldstar or Maccabi beers completed this delicious meal.

Opposite Rachel's Tomb was the falafel man, renowned for his chickpea balls to which he added substantia­l amounts of chopped parsley so that he was known as the green falafel man. A seat at a plastic table and a few sides of hummus, tahini and a chopped fresh vegetable salad and you were sated.

Kattan mentions the chicken place (which the larger-than-life Israeli politician Ariel Sharon is reputed to have frequented). In Kattan's book, you'll also find that Palestinia­n food, much like food throughout the Middle East, is often by the very nature of what it presents, food to be shared: alongside the ubiquitous hummus is baba ganoush (eggplant salad with tahini) and a plethora of other dips and salads laid out on the table for all to plunge into with the soft and warm freshly baked pita breads.

For many, this way of life has disappeare­d as the crisis and war in Gaza deepens – and food insecurity has become the way of life not only for Gazans but for many Palestinia­ns who live in the other cities and small villages dotted around the area. Today, peace appears to elude both Palestinia­ns and Israelis, as negotiatio­ns seem to drag on endlessly, along with the hostage crisis. But, for a few glorious moments when one delves into Kattan's book, one can absorb and ponder on a way of life and how it should be – the safeness of a home and the comfort of family.