Kanafeh

By Janah Farah

Country of Origin: Palestine 

My family always throws parties no matter the occasion. Often times it’s for birthdays. We would always go to my Uncle Ago's house and of course, we couldn’t go empty-handed. 

He and my dad were on the phone arguing about how we wanted to bring something but my uncle kept saying no.  Finally, my uncle caves in and tells him to get a dessert. After the call ended, my dad started talking to my mom about what we should bring. My mom suggests that we make what we always make: Kanefeh. 

My dad goes to check if we have all of the ingredients and comes back to the kitchen with his hands full. He starts by getting the loaf of bread and grinding it all in the food processor. This is often so loud that my mom raises the volume on the TV so she can continue watching. After what seems like forever, he opens the food processor and adds melted butter them he turns it back on leaving me with a headache from the noise. While he’s mixing the butter and bread, he asks me to go and get a circular tray. 

As a kid, I always remembered how I didn't like the famous desert of my country. It was never sweet enough and I always thought it was a weird consistency with all the cheese that is put in it. After my dad spread an even amount of the bread-crumb mixture on the pan, the next step was to add the mozzarella cheese and the farina mixture of milk and farina that he was brewing up on the stove while making the breadcrumbs.

It was then put in the oven to cook while my mom started to make the syrup. This was always my favorite part because I was curious about how it never became caramel (and I loved how sweet it was). She would add the sugar and water until it boiled and then she would add the rose water and lemon juice so it stays a syrup and so it wouldn't boil over the pot. 

Soon it would be time to go, so my dad would carry the tray to the car while my mom took the syrup. Once it was time for dessert, they would flip the tray over so the semolina was at the bottom and the breadcrumbs were at the top and they would stick one candle right in the middle to start singing happy birthday. I always watched everyone eating it with joy in their eyes, with their mouths watering at the flavors. I never understood what there was to like about it. I felt left out eating my cupcake while the rest of the people were eating Kanefeh.