Happy Ramadan

Posted on July 9, 2014


This cupcake shop opened in my neighbourhood and I ran down there all excited, lamenting only that my best friend the Singer no longer lives here to singlehandedly support them with her regular 11 pm platintive bleatings for cake. I assumed from the Ramadan bunting outside that date caramel and tamr hindy cupcakes were in the offing and was saddened to see only a small display of cupcakes, only four kinds not including my favorite carrot. A large, ominously smug lady in front of me bought 4 chocolate ones and that’s when I realized: everything in the store was made of konafa. Konafas with the ubiquitous mango, with maltesers, oreos, in tarts, in little cups, an endless vista of small orange hairs.

Me: So those aren’t cupcakes, that’s konafa.

The guy: It’s half cupcake, half konafa.

Me: So konafa with icing on top.

The guy, hesitantly: Yes.

Me: Is anything here not made of konafa? What about those cupcakes on the display?

I pointed to six chocolate cupcakes on a tray adorned with mickey mouse crusty sugar layer thing. Who likes that but I was desperate for western confectionary.

Him: Those are old. They’ve been here since before Ramadan.

Me: OK, I’ll have one of those things.

It was a display case full of square cups of intriguingly layered confectionary that did not seem altogether made of konafa. One had the brownish hue of a chocolate-based item. I pointed at it.

Him: That’s caramel and Nutella. And konafa.

Me: OK what’s not konafa at all?

Him: roz bi laban bil Nutella or basbousa bil manga.

I took a basbousa bil manga cup in a tiny wasteful box and inhaled it but it was no cupcake. See you in two weeks, shop of religious discrimination.

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