Spiritual Appetite

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We are winding down the days of Ramadan, a spiritually potent month in which Allah revealed the Quran. Since this is a month of remembrance, reflection, reconciliation and resilience, Muslim communities worldwide devoted the month to reciting as much Quran as possible and attending nightly tarawih prayers at the mosque, in which the entirety of the Holy Book is completed roughly over a course of nearly 30 days.

Although these are not obligatory rituals, there is massive spiritual brownie points involved and the communal experience of Ramadan is heightened by participating in these nightly events.

Back when I was 21 years old and attempting to become an Optimus Prime Transformer Muslim, I made sure to hit every Tarawih prayer and read or listen to as much Quran during this month as possible.

Sadly, this year I spent more time listening to Kanye, Jay-Z, Lil Wayne and Benassi. This was more a reflection of my insanely busy work schedule and compulsive need to stay awake at night doing work by listening to throbbing beats, instead of a heathen-sabbatical lathered in Godless-hedonism for those who are quietly judging or inquiring.

Regardless, I’ve attempted to come up with some intelligent defenses, such as, “Dear Lord, had you not blessed Kanye with such sic beats, then I would not be compelled to listen to the album “Watch the Throne.” So, essentially, by listening to “Who Gon’ Stop Me?” and appreciating the dope beats, in a sense, am I not in awe of my Creator who inspired such dopeness?”

Of course, I do not confess this prayer outloud in fear of beign struck by thunderbolt and lightening.

Continue reading →

Top 10 Things to Rama-don’t by Maria Jan

This Ramadan Muslims are flocking to local grocery stores gathering items for nightly feasts that rival anyone’s modest Thanksgiving. Being that many of your friends and neighbors might not know the proper etiquette – below I have attached a brief set of guidelines which can be distributed to set individuals ensuring a smooth and calm process for all.

10. Hamburger…?

9. We still love you, and that will be more evident post-feast.

8. Most of your friends will be thinking about food and won’t be paying close attention to your stories. Please forgive them if they answer your questions with a glazed look while mouthing the word “Hamburger…?” as if that was the answer to your question.

7. Not all of your Muslim friends ‘enjoy’ Ramadan.

6. Muslim-y is not a word, stop referring to Ramadan being one of those Muslim-y things. It’s not that it’s offensive, it’s that adding a ‘y’ at the end of something doesn’t make it a real word.

5. Refrain from asking obvious questions such as “Aren’t you hungry yet?”

4. No, your Muslim friend will not watch Iron Chef with you, but that has nothing to do with Ramadan, it’s just that the show is so 2003.

3. Your Muslim friend will be more lethargic than usual, walk slower and don’t worry, this too shall pass.

2. Remember Ramadan is not Lent, your Muslim friend has given up more than just chocolate.

1. Refrain from teasing your Muslim friend with food no matter how much you believe that you are testing their reserve. They might smack the be-jeezus out of you.

Liana

I’ve been Muslim for a dozen years now–hard to accept that the years are passing at a rate quicker than I can appreciate them.  As a new Muslim all those years ago, I looked at the advent of my first Ramadan as a challenging exercise of the will.  I was excited to put my faith to the test, to directly measure the depth of my faith by the depth of my willpower.  Once Ramadan started, I remember the pangs of hunger towards the middle of the month and feeling ill at ease with my overwhelming desire to eat.  If I were more deen-focused, would I not be able to ignore or put aside that hunger for the sake of God?  Why was I so driven by food?  Maybe, my faith was not as strong as I had believed and had hoped it would be….

Three years ago, my daughter was born.  As we actively prepared for her arrival, we attended a class led by my midwife.  Much of my pregnancy is a blur now–I had just changed jobs, we had moved state, bought a house, and signed on to some extensive renovations all in the last five months of my pregnancy.  I do remember, however, one noteworthy piece of advice that my midwife tried to drill into us during that class.  While the specific words may differ, the gist of her advice was this: “Don’t have pre-set expectations of how things are going to go at the hospital.  Don’t lock yourself in to a plan.  Just accept the way things will unfold as there are some things that you just don’t have complete control over.”

Of course, she was right.  Things did not go the way we had planned.  And, it was nothing like we had imagined it would be.  But, as we looked into our little tiny girl’s sleepy eyes as she tried her best to grapple with her new set of circumstances, we realized that none of our pre-conceived notions really made that much difference; nothing really could have made that moment any better than it was.

This year, in my post-fajr high (induced somewhat by a fat mug of chai, strong enough to sprout legs and walk away at any given time), I think back to those early days of being Muslim and how things have changed for me.  My perception is different; my patience threshold is a little higher although still miles short from where I would like it to be; my efforts to systemize my world have evolved into simply trying to reduce the chaos and unpredictability that defines it.

And, Ramadan feels different.  Not locked in by the handcuffs of defined expectations, I am better able to immerse myself in the undefined joy of Ramadan.

My appreciation for Ramadan is less fettered by what I thought it would be like and instead, is tethered only to a belief that its beauty exists in a vacuum with or without my pre-defined expectations of it.  Just as I discovered in the delivery room, I am realizing once again that there are some gifts we are given that are bigger than anything our expectations can define.  Perhaps, we can receive them better if they are left undefined.

Between the Layers: How to Make Burek

Lina Sergie Attar

On a hot August afternoon, I was in the kitchen planning a Ramadan iftar. The act of preparing a dish is as much about memory as tasting it. My personal memories involve making burek. Although this tradition stems from my paternal Turkish great-grandmother, the top burek chef in my family is my mother. Burek, is a pastry made of thin layers of dough that holds any variety of fillings: cheese; spinach; meat; the possibilities are endless. It is often described as a kind of pie, but it is more like a savory baklava.

Making burek is a commitment, a physical commitment, it is opposite of my usual “efficient” process of cooking with three burners and an oven all going at the same time. The process forces you to slow down dramatically, there is no multitasking, everything must be prepared and ready, the filling, the melted butter, the tray, the dough, the brush, all laid out in order. You begin the repetitive movements, slowly lift a paper-thin sheet of pastry, and place it carefully on top of the other, then move a butter-dipped brush across the new layer. Over and over, a rhythmic meditation.

They say musicians over the years, develop memory in their fingers. My fingers have a culinary memory, holding three generations and three countries within them, as my mother, my grandmother, and my great-grandmother guide my motions. But while your movements may slow, your thoughts do not. Your thoughts are racing, rushing across time and geographies, stitching together disparate recollections between the layers.

Ramadan is all about beginnings and ends, from anticipating the birth of a new moon, to watching the silver crescent slowly dissolve. And like the month, Ramadan meals are all about the unforgettable starters and finales. When the sun kisses the horizon, iftar begins with a silent prayer, as parched lips touch the glass of precious water and taste the sweetness of a date. Contrary to popular belief, iftar is not about the quantity of food, for as anyone who fasts will tell you, after a few bites you are full. But those few bites need to to satisfy all cravings, to satiate every taste bud. Combining as many textures and flavors possible is the brilliance of the classic iftar: the delightful Ramadan drinks, tangy tamer hindi and sweet amar din; the soothing creaminess of a hot lentil soup; the crisp, cooling fattoush salad; the spicy, nutty muhammarah dip; and the sheer perfection of the buttery, flaky, cheesy burek. The middles are distractions, everyday variables of rice, a meat, and a vegetable, utterly unimportant fillers that must be tolerated before the best part of the meal: dessert. And, the grand finale, my beloved, bitter, caffeinated coffee.

Ramadan desserts belong to the street not the kitchen. My favorite desserts take you on a culinary tour across the Aleppo from Sallora for kanafeh, to the tiny shop on the corner in al-Jamiliyyeh where the same man has stood for decades in front of a massive caldron of hot oil, frying luqum, literally “bites” of fried dough dipped in syrup. And the ultimate Ramadan exclusive, ghazel el-banat, “girls’ seduction,” the most romantic name for a dessert, fluffy white clouds of spun sugar, that melt in your mouth, only to surprise you with toasted Aleppo pistachios suspended in the nest of sweet threads. Continue reading →

Rida Wali-Munif

The month of Ramadan is here.

The super organized amongst us have a stock pile samosas and kebabs in the freezer while the rest of us have located the nearest mithai (sweets) shop for jalaybees (fried sweet batter soaked in sugar syrup), parathas, samosas (fried bread stuffed with vegetables or meat),  and other “necessities” of Ramadan.

On the other hand, many of us are hoping to lose weight this month. Thinking that not eating and drinking during the day will result in weight loss. Instead, Ramadan comes and goes leaving behind Jalaybee Jiggle- the weight gained during Ramadan despite fasting for nearly fifteen hours daily for an entire month!

Making nutritious choices during Ramadan is definitely a challenge. But I would argue that Ramadan is the best time to make positive, long lasting and healthful changes. If you can perform your activities of daily living without a single morsel of food or drink then you can most definitely make small dietary changes that will have a huge impact on your health.

Use some of the following tips to make this Ramadan a healthier one and reap the benefits spiritually and physically!

Suhoor/Sehri- Morning Meal

In some families, Suhoor is a feast of the senses where families wake up before sunrise to prepare huge, elaborate meals. In others, members wake up just long enough to gulp down a glass of milk before heading back to bed. Whatever the case may be, you can make healthful choices.

Ideally, Suhoor should consist of a variety of foods that will keep you full well into the day and provide you with energy to perform your daily activities. Cereals and grains will give you energy while fat, fiber and protein will keep hunger at bay. Experiment with what works best for you and your lifestyle. They key is to consume a meal that suits your eating style while controlling portions and added fat.

• Old School: Whole-wheat paratha/roti (or any bread) and kebabs cooked with a couple of teaspoons of vegetable oil. A side of fruit, 1% milk and a few dates.
• Traditional breakfast:  Eggs, whole-grain bread, a side of fruit with some yogurt, a glass of milk and a few dates.
• Vegetarian: Lentils, mixed vegetables with whole-wheat pita/roti. Milk/yogurt, fruit and a few dates.
• Not hungry-need energy: A bowl of whole-grain (boxed cereals, oats etc.) cereal with 1% milk, topped with bananas, berries, dates and some nuts.
• Fluids only: A smoothie with some fruit, 1% milk and peanut butter. Date shakes are awesome too!
• Also try non-breakfast items such whole-wheat pasta, chicken breast, beans etc. that provide a variety of nutrients and keep you full.

Iftaar/Iftari- Evening Meal

Time to break your fast! Iftaar is where most of us go wrong. We think- I haven’t eaten anything for fifteen hours or so and now I can eat anything and everything in sight!

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By Dilshad D. Ali

It’s like a scene from “Dinner Impossible” on Food Network, and I am playing the role of Chef Robert Irvine – except its “Iftaar Impossible.” Your mission is to create a complete iftaar (fast-breaking) meal plus a full dinner and dessert to follow, and all must be served to your guests within a tight one and half hour time frame, which includes a 10 minute break to pray Maghreb, and have guests out on time to be able to make Ish’a prayers and tarawih prayers at the local mosque.

Will you succeed or will you fail? Will your guests make it through the meal and get out for Ish’a and tarawih on time? Will you, who have been fasting while preparing this feast, also survive?

This was the task I faced last Friday when my husband and I invited a number of friends to break fast with us at our house. Iftaar parties have all but disappeared where I live – most Muslims here either break fast with their family in their homes or go to the one of the local mosques to have iftaar and dinner. For four years now, the Muslims in our city have signed up to provide food one night during Ramadan for everyone at one of the mosques or tarawih halls.

At the place we go to for tarawih, upwards of 250-300 people show up for a community iftaar/dinner every night. It’s a neat set up – you can easily go every night and never have to cook during Ramadan. Of course you’ll be eating some sort of chicken biryani 8 times out of 10 – but hey, that’s how it goes.

Food jokes aside, these community iftaars are a great way to meet up with fellow Muslims and break fast together. Just be wary of the inevitable comparisons and criticisms that pop up, as people – especially the ladies – compare who cooked what on their night.

Since these community iftaars became popular four years back, home-based iftaar parties pretty much ended. But this year, before Ramadan started, my husband announced to me that he wanted to have friends over for iftaar one night. He doesn’t ask me for much, so I gamely said, “Sure!” and before I knew it, we had 20 adults and 15 kids coming over.

A friend of mine who’s not Muslim asked me why I was hosting the party, especially since four days earlier I (and three other families) had cooked food for 250 people for a community iftaar. I told my friend that there is spiritual reward for providing food to a person to break his fast.

In a hadith from Al-Tirmidhi, the Prophet Muhammad (saw) said, “Whoever gives food to a fasting person with which to break his fast will have a reward equal to his, without detracting in the slightest from the reward of the fasting person.”

But my reasons for hosting my own iftaar were personal as well. With my eldest son being very autistic, he’s basically been excluded from these community iftaars. Excluded not outright by the community per se, but let’s face it. Taking him to community iftaars, or Jummah prayers, or any religious function has always been an exercise in stress, worry, stares, whispers, and outright comments. Continue reading →

Pakistani Kuri

While growing up in Pakistan, we were taught that there are 11 months in a year and then there’s Ramadan: the holiest month for us Muslims. When I was five, I was captivated and wondered astonishingly why “Roza Kholna (Open your fast) and Sehri Karna (Close your fast)” was a significant part of my parents’ routine during this month. I remember distinctively my parents being utterly calm, absolutely devout to the Jah Namaz (Prayer Mat) and not yelling at us for 30 days even when three of us siblings fought the hell out of each other.  With time, I was able to understand they were respecting the Fifth Pillar of Islam and soon enough I’d be doing the same.

In his first post for Patheos, Wajahat Ali pointed that there are many types of Muslims one gets the opportunity to see during Ramadan.

There are people  like me who take every advantage to learn/study Islam profoundly and then try my best to implement the learned principles throughout my daily routine for rest of the year. I am a human so I slip here and there.

Then there are ones who recite – recite – pray – recite – pray for their forgiveness and prosperity and yet manage to throw gaudy Iftars.

However, lately, I have come across a third kind: Social Media Ramadan-ers. People that  fervently use Social Media (Facebook – Twitter – Google+) to impose and enlighten their beliefs and new learnings on every one of their friends’ list.  Yes, the U.S Constitution gives you the right of freedom of speech, and yes these social platforms are doing nothing but abiding by the first amendment diligently.

Conversely, everyone please – take a moment and think before updating your status or posting a link. Try getting some validity on it. It is advised to use the Quran itself.  I completely acknowledge that Social Media Ramadan-ers  are enthusiastic about getting their prayers answered and at the same time showing the world how much more Muslim-y you are than rest of them. Continue reading →

Thanks to “Muslimah in Progress”

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I am hoping one day Muslim Americans can forgive themselves for simply being human.

We Muslims sure like to pretend we are perfect. At the very least, we love promoting the myth.

We preach it in our sermons, via our social propaganda to our non-Muslim neighbors, as talking points to the local and national press, and we even peddle it to our fellow community members at over-priced weddings in cramped banquet halls.

Everyone smiles, shows off their White teeth, engages in the usual-boilerplate-predictable pleasantries and says “Oh yes, everything is fine!” when asked “Is everything Ok?” by people who probably don’t really care but are forced to engage in ritual conversations as ordained by habit and custom.

But, a lot of the times things aren’t OK. If anyone bothers to pick up a paper, it’s clear that the news for many Americans is unsettling and uncertain to say the least. There is massive unemployment, reduced hours, decreased salaries, foreclosed homes, failed marriages, drug addictions and a host of other problems.

Regardless, we pretend we are perfect.

It’s our cover for the world.

Actually, we have to perform and wear this burdensome mask because our communities rarely forgive – and never forget.

Actually, it’s the appearance of “perfection,” albeit hypocritical, flawed, dishonest, and imprisoning, that is heavily promoted by nearly every religious Muslim American social circle I’ve met.

Actually, it seems more people are interested in “looking” perfect for the sake of protecting their reputation, instead of striving to perfect their etiquette and intention for the sake of pleasing their Creator.

The acknowledgement of problems, warts, and defects is tantamount to some sort of socially debilitating disease that will ostracize us in the eyes of our peers, who ironically have their very own dirty laundry comfortably hidden under their beds.

This problem of “faking perfection” afflicts nearly all religious communities, not just Muslims. And, of course, there is a tragic irony here considering all major religions treat the act of empathy and forgiveness with utmost reverence.

Ah, yes, forgiveness -perhaps the single most difficult and liberating spiritual act of them all.

There is something to be said of feeling “shame” and as a result wanting to hide our sins and defects. But, I’m discussing a different phenomenon in which people feel compelled to perpetually lie, subvert, hide and pretend due to upholding a fairy-tale of a life just so others will not condemn, mock, ridicule, or exploit them for their fallibilities.

Instead, we hide our pain, our mistakes, our weaknesses, our fragility, our “messiness” under the rug, we apply another layer of makeup, and we continue performing for the world.

But Ramadan is supposed to the annual game-changer. Ramadan is a moment of honest reflection and confrontation with oneself – an exercise in spiritual and physical dissection intended to purify and cleanse the whole. However, not only are many of us unable to confront our warts, we are unable to even acknowledge the inherent “messiness” of our existence and being.

There’s a beautiful concept of “striving” in Islam called Ihsan whereby we exert our best efforts to pursue excellence in both our intentions and deeds.  It’s part of the “I” trinity in Islam consisting of Islam (submission to Allah) and Iman (inner faith).  In fact, it’s a foundational aspect of the totality of our worship as a Muslim.  Another explanation of Ihsan is to do “beautiful deeds.”  Others have defined it as striving for “perfection” in faith.

But , we humans are imperfect beings simply by design and the Creator’s own intention.

I’m not suggesting we stop striving to improve our condition. There is something profoundly honorable and dignified in aiming for the Heavens even though we know we’ll fall short of the stars.

The difference here is to accept that we are simply human and designed to make mistakes.

We are fallible creatures despite our best or worst intentions. The attainment of perfection is a fool’s errand that will only result in failure, disappointment and heartbreak. Perhaps it’s time we at least acknowledge our true reality and use the month of Ramadan to not only ask Allah to help us achieve Ihsan, but also give us the strength and courage to forgive – our families, our communities, our enemies, and most importantly ourselves.

May we also have the humility to seek forgiveness from those we have wronged as well.

Hopefully, we can rise above our perpetual worry, concern and obsession of what others think of us and simply tune out all that jazz and seek Allah’s pleasure instead.

And, if we are lucky enough to achieve this moment of enlightenment, maybe we can forgive those around us who – for whatever reason – are simply living their life, trying to get by, with their mistakes hidden or openly displayed for the world to see and comment upon.

And, maybe then, we can stop trying to be so damn perfect all the time. After all, “perfect” people who always have their act together are pretty damn boring, colorless individuals. It’s the imperfect ones who give our life some flavor and, dare I say, purpose. After all, it’s those broken vessels among us who are usually the ones  perpetually striving for something better and inspiring the rest of us to do the same.

Most seek beauty in “perfection.”

But, you know what?

This Ramadan, I’m striving to discover and appreciate the beauty in our messiness.

This might seem like an odd entry for our “Spiritual Appetite” blog but I believe it fits in perfectly with the Ramadan theme of introspection, reflection and resolve. Here, the always colorful, flamboyant, volatile, retired NBA player Dennis Rodman wears his heart, his pain and his regrets on his sleeve with a 12 min, emotional Hall of Fame Speech.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQQu-JWzBug