In Egypt, bread makes their world go round

For quite a while, Egypt has been known more for its mummies and pyramids than for what the people there eat. But, as in many societies, the stomach determines how stable your legs are. This is why when their stomachs are full, Egyptians are generally a fun and happy group to be with.

In the resort city of Sharm al-Sheikh, the idea of a true Egyptian identity may be debatable. But the food here has an almost permanent inclusion: bread.

Until 35 years ago, Sharm el-Sheikh was an empty piece of land in the Sinai Peninsula overlooking the Red Sea, serving only as a fishing village. Baked by the sun, the mountains overlooking today’s city had barren land, sometimes feared for being hiding places of militants.

Then people discovered they could turn it into a resort city with progressive investments to put up hotels, make it safer for tourists, and tailor Egyptian culture that easily accommodates foreigners. Now the streets are lined with expensive hotels and busy market centres with restaurants, bars, clubs, spice shops, and other commodity sellers competing for the attention of tourists.

Aboud Mohammed or just Abu is one of the Egyptians who migrated here from elsewhere in the country to make a living. He began by selling bread. At his al-Aswany restaurant, which lines the main street in Sharm el-Sheikh, the stock has now expanded beyond just bread to include strong coffee, tea, fried meat and chips.

Even with modernity and change in the way we eat, the recipe for bread here has retained its age-old Egyptian characteristic. Chefs routinely mix wheat flour, yeast, water, salt, and some other ingredients before it’s shoved into hot ovens on huge platters. After some time, it comes out looking like a gigantic chapatti—except they call it ‘Aish’, which is Arabic for life or living.

Every day, Abu and his colleagues wake up early to prepare the dough for the flatbread. Traditionally, flatbread in Egypt is either part of a whole meal or a snack.

“You can take it plain, with chai (tea), or with soup,” Abu explained.

“It is nice for you, nice for everyone, my friend,” Abu added.

To every tourist coming to his shop, he exclaimed ‘Alhamdulillah’ (praise be to God), or called them “brother” or “sister.” Though occupying just about 50M², el-Aswany restaurant is both a demonstration of Egyptian cuisine and hospitality.

It is located on a busy street where customers, both Egyptians and foreigners, come to buy spices, perfumes and local food.

At el-Aswany, they eat bread as a sandwich, or dip it whole in soup—usually peppered lentils, lamb, goat, or beef soup. Sometimes they dip in bean stew.

Here, groups of people eat with bare hands from a huge platter, reflecting the traditional Arabic culture and the teachings of Prophet Mohamed on humility. It was no wonder that as people went about their food, Abu’s TV showed a routine Koran recital from one of the most famous clerics in the country.

Yet el-Aswany, like other restaurants lining the streets here, also signal why the Egyptian government considered bread an important stabiliser. In May, Cairo indicated that it may have to delay payments to wheat imports as it deals with economic problems resulting from the Russia-Ukraine war, and Covid-19. That decision did not affect the availability of wheat, but it showed the kind of burden Egyptian authorities must carry to ensure folks are happy.

Earlier in the year, Egypt proposed a budget worth about $17.15 billion, about a quarter of which is meant for food subsidies with bread taking a larger portion worth about $2.9 billion, according to the Egyptian Prime Minister’s Office. Egypt imports half of all the wheat consumed locally, and most of it came from Russia and Ukraine.