Ramadan meal gets modern twist
San Francisco Muslima, Moina Noor, marvels at the Muslim American world on the table at multicultural Iftar gatherings.  (Includes recipes!)
September 27, 2006

Each year, my family eagerly awaits the beginning of the holy month of Ramadan. In spite of the rigor it adds to our daily routine, we look forward to the spirituality and sense of community it brings.

During Ramadan, which this year began Saturday and lasts until Oct. 23, observant Muslims abstain from eating and drinking from sunrise to sunset. An intense exercise in self-control, Ramadan is a time for Muslims to look inward.

Weeks before Ramadan, however, our weekend social calendar fills up with dinner invitations. It's customary to break the fast together at sundown with a meal called iftaar. Tables are laden with dates, fruits, nuts; the hosts prepare their most elaborate dishes, such as biryani, homemade couscous or a leg of lamb.

When I was growing up in suburban Connecticut in the 1970s and early '80s, the Saturday iftaar was the highlight of the week. A small group of Muslim families in the area would get together at a local community center.

Parents would reminisce about Ramadan in their home countries as they told their children that the daily hurried breaking of the fast was a sad and unfortunate reality. The fast should ideally be broken like this they said, among family and friends, with festivity and the best of food.

My mother would vie to be one of the first to host the Saturday iftaar. She would say that there is great blessing in feeding a person who is fasting. She would toil singlehandedly in our kitchen for days to prepare a meal that would feed at least 100 people. For women like my mother, an immigrant from India, a potluck was unthinkable, counter to everything she had been taught about hospitality.

Most of the people from our center were from Hyderabad, India, and the weekly meals were remarkably similar. First, we would break our fast with appetizers: samosas, channa daal, dahi bades, fruit chaat, rosewater milk, and of course the requisite date (with pits). After the sunset prayer and with a sated stomach, we would dive into the biryani, curries and kebabs. We'd top off our meal with kheer, a rice pudding-like dish, and chai.

I would complain that we had the same food every week, but my mother and her friends enjoyed the comfort of seeing the same food on their sectioned Styrofoam plates week after week.

As our center grew to include immigrants from Bombay and Karachi, the menu broadened. The Pakistanis made great pakoras -- deep-fried lentil fritters -- and my Bombay aunties made aloo cutlets, fried mashed potato patties filled with ground beef. However, the broad outline of our meal stayed the same. We still had biryani, curries and kebabs, just different ones.

It wasn't until I left Connecticut and my predominantly South Asian Muslim community and moved to the Bay Area that the breaking-of-the-fast ritual turned upside down.

In decidedly American fashion, my husband and I sought out a multicultural Islamic community. The people in our circle were busy starting tech companies, going to grad school and raising infants. We had neither the ambition nor, quite frankly, the know-how to prepare a large Ramadan meal for all of our friends.

We did, however, have a great desire to come together every weekend during Ramadan and break our fast. It was potluck, all the way. So every Saturday, I'd call my mom to find out how to make something to share with my friends. The less nostalgic among us would experiment with a recipe from Gourmet, and some of us would leave home 15 minutes early and stop at Safeway to pick up an apple pie.

I discovered the pleasure of breaking fast with harira, a nourishing Moroccan lamb soup that warms up a tired, fasting body. I admired the artistry of the Iranian ruby and emerald rice dishes -- rice cooked with pomegranate seeds or dill covered with the crisp bottom. For breads, we always had pitas, naans and a couple of baguettes from the Acme Bakery in Berkeley. A convert friend made date rolls for dessert from her grandmother's Betty Crocker cookbook.

Each week I'd marvel at the Muslim American world on the table and, as at most potlucks, I would fill my plate with a bit of everything in no particular order. I overlooked the cacophony of food on my plate (I had been fasting all day, after all) and was happy and grateful to break my fast in good company with good food.

However, culinary multiculturalism is not without its challenges. Inevitably one of the Arab guys would fan his mouth because he'd accidentally bitten into a chilli from a Pakistani dish. A Lebanese woman would comment caustically to her Egyptian friend that she preferred her dolmas without pine nuts and currants. An Indian would ask the Turkish host if she could get some tea with milk because she could not drink it black.

Old eating habits die hard. Despite our multiethnic social circle, my husband and I go to a largely South Asian immigrant mosque in San Jose at least once during Ramadan. We lap up the deep-fried goodies, the spicy kebabs and the oily curries. Each weekend in Ramadan we may travel the world through food but, as with any voyage, it's always good to come home.

Recipes

Fruit Chaat

Serve as an appetizer.

INGREDIENTS:

2 medium potatoes

2 large apples

3 large oranges, peeled

1/2 pound Red Flame seedless grapes

1 (14-ounce) can chickpeas, drained

Orange juice to moisten, as needed.

The Chaat Masala:

1 teaspoon amchoor (see Note )

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/4 teaspoon ground coriander

1/4 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes

2 pinches black salt (optional, see Note)

Salt to taste

INSTRUCTIONS:

Boil potatoes until just done. Let cool, then peel and dice. Place in a large bowl. Cut apples and oranges into pieces about the same size as the potatoes, and add to bowl. Halve grapes and add to bowl. Add chickpeas.

To make chaat masala, combine all ingredients in a bowl and sprinkle over fruit mixture. Add orange juice, if needed, to moisten, although chaat should be fairly dry. Mix well. Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve. Let come to room temperature before serving.

Serves 6

Note: Amchoor, which is dried mango powder, is available in Indian stores. The optional black salt is very pungent, and is available at specialty grocers or in the ethnic food section of some supermarkets.

PER SERVING: 215 calories, 5 g protein, 48 g carbohydrate, 2 g fat (0 saturated), 0 cholesterol, 145 mg sodium, 9 g fiber.

Badam Dood (Milk with Almond Meal)

INGREDIENTS:

1 tablespoon butter

4 teaspoons almond meal

4 cups whole milk

4 teaspoons sugar

INSTRUCTIONS:

Melt butter in a saucepan over low heat. Add almond meal. Stir thoroughly and cook, stirring constantly, until the paste is very light brown. Add milk and sugar. Bring to light boil, stirring constantly. Pour into mugs and serve warm.

Serves 4

PER SERVING: 200 calories, 8 g protein, 16 g carbohydrate, 12 g fat (7 g saturated), 41 mg cholesterol, 120 mg sodium, 0 fiber.