Stirring up memories

Every Ramadan, Salam Daqqaq makes shish barak. The time-consuming recipe calls for dumplings to be rolled out and stuffed. Like many classic dishes cooked during the holy month, it’s a labour of love. But eaters can taste the effort. “Salam’s shish barak feels like a hug,” says Osama Sherif, her son-in-law and a managing partner at Bait Maryam, the Michelin-featured restaurant where Daqqaq is chef patron.

“My mother, Maryam, always made shish barak with love, and I learned it from her. When I make it, I feel like she is next to me again,” Daqqaq says. “Every small dumpling is made by hand, with patience.”

She remembers how the family would join in making shish barak. “The process was teamwork. We sat in the kitchen and she would talk to us. We laughed, we listened, we learned. She told us how Ramadan is about giving, sharing with neighbours and being close to Allah,” Daqqaq says. “When my mother passed away, on the day of her funeral, we cooked shish barak as a family. It was not easy, but it felt like she was with us. Remembering those moments in the kitchen with her gave us comfort.”

Eating shish barak has sparked similar moments of nostalgia for visitors to Bait Maryam, where it’s a regular on the menu, she says.

The Arabian pasta dish is not dissimilar to Italian tortellini. Described in the 15th-century Kitab al Tibakha (Book of Cooking), shish barak is a Ramadan classic across the Levant. “The dish is also very good for [those who are] fasting because it soothes the body and doesn’t make you thirsty. After a long day, it gives you comfort, energy,” Daqqaq says.

Muslims everywhere commemorate the month of Ramadan with a focus on faith and fasting to remember the revelation of the Quran and empathise with the less fortunate. A major tenet of Islam, fasting requires abstaining from food and drink during daylight hours. Consequently, communal gatherings at iftar, the meal to break the fast each evening, are deeply rooted in tradition; since 2023, UNESCO recognises the observance as part of humanity’s intangible cultural heritage.

Comfort food and celebratory fare both find their place on iftar tables. But the most potent flavour is memory, perhaps the best way to soothe a difficult day.

Alaa Alnachar, Executive Chef, Grand Millennium Hotel Dubai, speaks of the time he cooked his shorbet adas – lentil soup – for a younger cousin spending Ramadan with the family after several years studying abroad.

“As she took the first sip of the soup, she paused and closed her eyes – and told me it tasted like home,” he says.

Shorbet adas, ubiquitous on iftar tables across the region, is filling and nourishing – and surprisingly easy to make. Red lentils are the go-to, because they cook quickly and soften into a smooth, velvety texture that plays to the strengths of additional ingredients: aromatic cumin, anti-inflammatory turmeric and garlic, and vibrant lemon, thought to promote digestion. At the Grand Millennium iftar at The Atrium, Alnachar serves it with crispy pita bread.

He uses his grandmother’s recipe, which she learned from her mother before her. “Each cook added their own little touch while keeping the essence of the dish intact,” he says.

Also an iftar buffet staple is the dolma, a roll of grapevine leaves filled with rice, onion, and frequently, lamb. The term can refer to a wide range of stuffed vegetable dishes associated with Greek and Middle Eastern cuisine, as well as with the Caucuses and North Africa – likely because of the Ottoman influence.

The rice and grape version (sarma in Turkish) is the most widespread, though each country and region has its own take on the dish. In Azerbaijan, you could be served tiny parcels instead of rolls, while some Armenians add nuts and currants to their yalanchi sarma.

“Syrians changed the recipe by adding spices,” says Nouredin Abou Mughdeb, Chef de Cuisine at JA Lake View Hotel in Jebel Ali.

Dolma are also bittersweet for him personally, because they remind the Syrian expat of his family, whom he doesn’t see very often. “Flavours and smells have a powerful way of holding memories.”

His recipe has also been handed down over the generations. “I don’t know how long it’s been in the family, but for us it symbolises hospitality and tradition – which is the spirit of Ramadan.”

Whatever you put into dolma, make sure you don’t overstuff the rolls or make them too tight. The rice expands as it cooks, so it needs space.

“Otherwise, you’ll have exploded dolmas, which is really rice soup with leaves floating around. Luckily, I had skilled cooks – my mom, aunts and even uncles – helping me when I first made these, so I never had dolma soup,” he says.

You can have stew, though, if you stop by the Jumeirah Creekside Hotel, where Chef de Partie Ramy Eldesouky is putting Egyptian items on the rotating iftar menu. His tagen akkawwi, a rich oxtail casserole infused with spices, is a family recipe that he thinks was first created by his grandmother.

Growing up, it was his father that cooked it, he says, describing how the aroma would travel through the house. “I remember watching him carefully layering ingredients and patiently waiting for it to come together,” Eldesouky says.

As a professional chef, he’s refined the recipe, blanching the meat in orange juice to balance the richness, roasting the spices, and changing up the presentation to improve its visual appeal.

But his tagen is still cooked slowly in a clay pot, allowing the flavours to develop and the collagen to break down. By the end, the meat is spoon tender.

“Many of these cooking techniques are at risk fading away,” he says.

With shorter working hours in Ramadan, people can take the time to follow traditional cooking methods, instead of resorting to quick, processed meals.

There’s nothing processed about Rene Johari’s ayam percik. Just thinking about it, the Executive Chef at the DoubleTree by Hilton Dubai – Business Bay says, takes him right back to his childhood in Malaysia.

“I can already imagine the rich aromas, textures, and umami flavours coming together,” he says. “It was always the centrepiece of our iftar table.” The sticky, spicy, sweet and savoury grilled chicken is a Malaysian classic. He says families often cooked ayam percik to welcome fishermen home after days away at sea. It also features on the Ramadan Malaysian Nusantara iftar at the DoubleTree Business Bay each Saturday during the holy month, as part of a spotlight on the Malay archipelago.

Johari’s mother cooked ayam percik on an open charcoal grill on their lawn, or sometimes in the oven. As a boy, he’d watch her prepare and marinate the chicken, and then baste it repeatedly over the grill, often helping to brush on the sauce. “Each layer of sauce deepens the flavour,” he says. The chicken gets its distinctive smoky flavour from being grilled over coal mixed with dried coconut husks.

At work, Johari has adapted the recipe to cater to new communities and to accommodate changing dietary preferences. One variation uses Gulf tiger prawns to cater to the local penchant for seafood. He also has a plant-based version featuring locally grown button mushrooms.

Many chefs don’t fully realise the importance of preserving heritage recipes, he says. “With globalisation and evolving dietary trends, traditional dishes risk being forgotten. However, I believe this is also an opportunity. Rather than letting these recipes disappear, chefs can revive and adapt them for modern tastes while staying true to their origins. Keeping our culinary heritage alive requires innovation, education, and sharing these traditions with the world.”

Bait Maryam’s Daqqaq understands the importance of safeguarding classic dishes all too well. She has made her name serving homestyle dishes alongside modern homages to classic Levantine flavours.

“Bait Maryam is an extension of my home. We tell stories, we remember, we keep traditions alive. If one person eats my shish barak and says, ‘This is like my mother’s,’ then I know we are doing something right,” she says.

“I worry about heirloom recipes disappearing. Today, everything is fast, everything is modern. But these old recipes have a soul. If we forget them, we forget part of who we are.”