The Souk is a Kindred Spirit

written by Nathan

 If China is the world’s largest importer of chicken feet, then Egypt must be the largest importer of beef liver. On the street, three things are ingested daily on every corner; tea (at all hours with sheesha), fuul at lunch (the original refried beans), and evenings are for liver. Use the word ‘sandwich’ at nearly any dining establishment serving food past 5PM and likely this is what you will get.

The souks, normal community food markets, as ancient as this part of the world, sell everything in season. Alexandria, the great port of Egypt, benefits from its delta, the river, and the sea. All sorts of fish and seafood are for sale with three predominant types being traditionally popular: small clams, shrimp, and BBQ whole fish (the BBQ fish is cooked in a crust of flours and spice to a burnt black).

There are all sorts of fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs at the souks. Because ‘lower Egypt,’ has a green belt along the river that gets mild winters with freezes, all sorts of unexpected temperate fruits grow well here: apples, peaches, apricots, grapes, and other fruits are abundant.

Because of the ancient (hot) climate, as is most of the developing world, the market features products which must be consumed the same day. Pita bread, sold hot and fresh in every souk and neighborhood, has a shelf life of hours, not days. Herbs seem to wilt within minutes of being stuffed in bags. And, fruits and vegetables which are most popular will last a couple days without refrigeration.

There are also many things in the market which we don’t recognize: Very bitter brown cheeses we mistook for a sesame sauce; beautiful pans of fresh grape leaves (surrounded by herbs and other greens we never did figure out); new Mediterranean fishes, and volumes of pickled delights.

It would be hard to say what my favorite thing is about the market, strolling it, taking in the vigorous bargaining, the market alley cats, the flop of live fish. Perhaps, it is in finding that perfect ingredient: tiny okra, saffron hued golden smoked fish, ripe strawberries. I think it is the friendship, the bargain, and the universality of merchants mixing with families which draws me to markets. In Egypt, the souk is an age old kindred spirit.

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A Glimpse of Alex

Here in Alexandria, the tangy Mediterranean air brings to life the smells of the city, and the salty air seems to amplify smells as does salt to food. The fragrance of dripping bunches of parsley and cilantro and dill and the creamy fluff of fresh feta cheese winds amidst the smoky tendrils of sheesha coming from the men seated at outdoor cafés.

Narrow streets carry the scents of buttery croissants being pulled from vast ovens and the brilliant gasps of succulent flowers in the form of essential oils. Mountains of cookies and pastries oozing with gritty fig paste haunt the early mornings. And the soft smells of pillowed pita bread heaped upon wheeled carts and the dusky smell of carriage horses line the waterfront promenade.

On the other side of the lagoon, close to the water, shrimp are artfully arranged into piles according to price. The elaborate designs remind me of bento boxes of the East: patterns and shapes and curves formed by crustacean bodies. Smoked fish of burnished gold are placed, four to a group, in hand-woven wicker baskets.

Cats stalk the restaurants, hopping atop the tables to steal scraps before waiters come to clear the dishes, clawing the upholstered chairs to shreds when no one is watching. They sprawl over entire park benches, curl up on car hoods in the warm morning sun, and self-righteously take their places along market stalls and beneath shwarma ovens, awaiting a savory mishap in their favor.

Dark eyes hover beneath bruised lumps on the foreheads of Muslim men; badges of devout daily prayer are visible testaments to strong faith. The melodic low tones of evening prayer sweep hauntingly below the shrill honking of taxis and the rumbling of city buses.

A port of call that feels like home, one to which we will soon return.

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