|
|
||
|
|
Ramadan in Brooklyn
by Debra Jo Immergut
It was an odd sensation, walking through New York's epicenter of Middle Eastern eating during Ramadan, the Muslim holy month of fasting. Late on a Saturday afternoon, Atlantic Avenue, the Brooklyn thoroughfare that, for the blocks between Henry and Court streets, is lined by Arab restaurants, was deserted. Feeling conspicuous, we ducked into Tripoli, a Lebanese eatery at the corner of Atlantic and Clinton Street. We were the sole customers, and our every move seemed to echo in the empty dining room. But then the sun dropped behind the brownstones, and a cold darkness settled on the street. The staff of Tripoli sat down to break the fast. Though Middle Easterners rarely begin their meals with a soup course, it is thought that there is no better way to begin the Iftar, the evening breakfast, than to "cool the stomach" with something soothing. And so the waiters tucked into bowls of herbed yogurt soup. Meanwhile, in the rear of the restaurant, family members had gathered for platters of mezze -- the tapas of the Arab world -- and servings of stewed dishes, such as okra simmered in tangy pomengranate syrup, and lamb cooked with tomatoes and yogurt. By the time we finished and headed out into the cold again, the street's restaurants had come alive: cab drivers bent over stewed lima beans in the Yemeni Cafe; head-scarved mothers and their children eating falafel at a sandwich place. Clearly, the hours of self-denial and contemplation had come to an end on Atlantic Avenue. And in Muslim communities across New York--a mosaic of cultures that encompasses Indonesians, Nigerians, Pakistanis, Malaysians, Turks and Sudanese--the message was the same: the fast is over, so let the feasting begin. Check out our Ramadan-related Top Picks.
|
|