Snacks

The chickpea and tahini classic every country claims as its own.

5 versions

Crisp fried patties — chickpea in the Levant, fava in Egypt, beloved everywhere.

3 versions

Golden half-moon pastries — the first thing to vanish from any iftar table.

2 versions

The spinning spit, tamed for the home kitchen — chicken or beef, wrapped and pressed.

3 versions

Tunisia's shatteringly crisp pastry with a runny egg heart.

1 version

The Levantine morning flatbread — zaatar, cheese, or both, straight from the oven.

2 versions

Strained yogurt, thick enough to hold olive oil like a bowl holds water.

1 version

Savory sesame-mahlab rings — the dyafeh tin that never empties.

2 versions

Damascus's paper-thin sesame-pistachio crisps — sweet, snappy, dangerous by the boxful.

1 version

Open-faced meat pies — Baalbek's tiny masterpieces and every child's favorite tray.

2 versions

Lebanon's golden turmeric cake — humble, fragrant, and gone by sunset.

1 version

Crispy potato cubes tossed with garlic, coriander, and chili — the mezze everyone fights over.

1 version

Aleppo's roasted red pepper and walnut dip — smoky, sweet, and quietly fiery.

1 version

The fluffy white garlic cloud served with every Lebanese chicken — four ingredients, pure alchemy.

1 version

Spiced minced meat baked inside baladi bread until the crust crackles.

1 version

Alexandria's street-cart liver — thin, fiery, and stuffed into soft rolls.

1 version

Spinach-stuffed triangles, sour with sumac and lemon — the pastry every teta folds by the hundred.

2 versions

Morocco's square laminated flatbread — buttery layers folded by hand and griddled to a crackle.

1 version

Iraq's diamond-shaped stone-oven loaf — crisp shell, cloud crumb, the country's daily bread.

1 version

The purse-shaped sesame bread of Beirut's street corners — split, dusted with zaatar, eaten walking.

1 version