The secret to a perfect Egyptian Iftar

Egypt may be famous for its ancient civilisation, but having never visited, I am guilty of knowing little about the country's customs or culture. That was until the Zakarias welcomed me into their home.
My second experience of a traditional family Iftar in the UAE with the Zakarias did little to disappoint.
Sharjah residents for more than 20 years, Egypt-born Abeer welcomes me into her home to end fast with her husband Sherif, daughters Sherry and Nourhan, and 10-year-old son Omar.
To appreciate the true feel for the occasion, I choose to observe a day's fast with them.
But that decision is tested as soon as I am ushered through the front door of the three-bed apartment.
It is my sense of smell and sight which first responds to this month-long Muslim tradition.
As the fragrance of garlic and fresh herbs fill my nose, my immediate reaction turns to that of my hunger. Yet, here is Abeer, fluttering calmly around the kitchen, preparing Iftar.
The temptation of food does not cross her mind.
"For me, I am used to it," she says.
Observing her first full fast at the age of 15, Abeer tells me her first experience in the kitchen goes back even further, to when she was 12. "My mother taught me to cook from a very young age, it is a tradition in our family."
What first strikes me about the kitchen is the array of pots and pans, filled with half-prepared Egyptian favourites.
From Molokhia (a leafy green vegetable prepared into a soup), to freekeh (chicken served on wheat), and qamaruddin (drink of dried apricot paste, water and sugar) to khushaf (dates, dried apricot, plum, fig and raisons), Abeer says the dishes are "Egyptian staples".
"Different Arab countries have their own versions of these dishes and drinks, but we only tend to have them during Ramadan."
Though she admits Molokhia is one of the "most difficult dishes to make" there's a secret to getting it just right.
"Not every woman working in the kitchen can master Molokhia, but I can," she says.
And she agrees to reveal the secret.
"It is a big tradition back home that everyone has to do this particular thing when making this dish - it's a superstition that has been passed down from generation to generation."
Peering into the pot, Abeer empties the leafy green Molokhia into it and makes a huge, loud gasp, followed by an uncontrollable laugh.
"The 'gasp' is the traditional part," her daughter, Nourhan, tells me, "not the laugh".
Still laughing, Abeer admits she doesn't quite know why the gasp helps, but says it is meant to be the key to the perfect recipe. "I hope it works now."
As the food preparation comes to a close, and the dishes make their way to the table, the end of fast is marked by the Azan prayer.
Beginning the Iftar by eating dates and drinking water, the Zakarias follow by spooning food onto each others plates.
Aside from the religious enlightenment Ramadan brings, Nourhan tells me this is the moment she looks forward to most.
"Usually we never get a chance to all sit together like this, so that's my favourite part of Ramadan."
As we end the evening's authentic Egyptian experience with some sweet tea, I say goodbye to the Zakarias at around 9.15pm, and for me one thing is clear.
My second experience at breaking fast with a Muslim family was every bit as humbling as my first. Kelly@khaleejtimes.com
Code-switching
Though Egyptians speak in Arabic tongue, what struck me during my time with the Zakarias was the family's use of code-switiching - the practice of alternating between both the English and Arabic language in conversation. Daughter Sherry said for her and her sister, who have been brought up in the UAE, it is automatic to communicate in this way.