Sudanese entrepreneur Julie Samir’s dream of opening a restaurant has finally come true, but it’s a bittersweet achievement after fleeing her war-torn homeland Sudan for Egypt.
Now, Ms. Samir’s menu has a single purpose: to win over Egyptians with a taste of Sudan’s complex culinary traditions, born from a rich history at the crossroads of the Middle East and Africa.
“I’m targeting Egyptian consumers, I want them to know Sudanese culture,” the 42-year-old explained. AFP From his sunlit eatery in eastern Cairo, the smell of aromatics simmering from the kitchen wafts.
In the sprawling metropolis of Cairo – home to more than 20 million people – many Sudanese refugees have opened businesses, bringing a taste of home and hoping to make a name for themselves.
Ms. Samir and her two children have been in the Egyptian capital for more than a year after traveling 2,000 kilometers (about 1,200 miles) from their home in Khartoum.
Along with half a million other Sudanese, they fled the war between Sudan’s regular army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces to neighboring Egypt – and set to work rebuilding lives.
Today, on the lawn of one of Cairo’s upscale sports clubs, Ms Samir’s restaurant ‘Kush Children’s Village’ serves a fusion menu.
“The name was my father’s idea, inspired by the Bible,” she said, explaining the reference was to Kush, the ancient empire that extended across modern-day Egypt, Sudan and Ethiopia.
intense competition
“We serve all three cuisines,” he said proudly, but he stressed that the restaurant is still distinctly Sudanese.
“Everyone who works here is from Sudan, we all came here fleeing the war,” he said, describing how the team found each other through solidarity networks on social media.
In the kitchen, chef Fadi Moufid, 46, was fussing over pots and pans to cook a variety of the restaurant’s dishes.
The former caterer’s signature is agache – shredded meat, chicken or fish seasoned with a spicy peanut dry rub and then barbecued low and slow over glowing embers.
“Egyptians don’t like their food as spicy as we do, so we try to tone it down so they can really appreciate it,” Mr Moufid said. AFP Top a bowl of zigni, a beef stew marinated in Ethiopian spices, and served with injera, a spongy flatbread.
But breaking into Egypt’s culinary scene is no easy feat.
“Competition among food businesses was not that big in Sudan, but here it is huge,” Mr. Moufid says, pointing in particular to the “big Syrian restaurants” founded by expatriate entrepreneurs who fled their war-torn homeland in recent years.
Standing out may be difficult, but Mr Moufid and Ms Samir are slowly capturing Egyptian tastes.
Khaled Abdelrahman, one of his Egyptian guests, reported, “I liked the flavor of the spices and how tender the meat is.” AFP.
“It has a different feel to it,” he said.
In the suburb of Sheikh Zayed, west of Cairo, Sudanese confectioner Qusay Biram’s sweets shop, “Jib Mak” – “bring along” in Arabic – sells deep-fried dough balls called ‘luqaimat’.
They are similar to the Egyptian ‘Zalabia’, but still startle Egyptians who step into a sweet-smelling shop.
‘Longing for Sudan’
“They were surprised because we added more salt to the flour than they were used to,” said Ziad Abdelhalim, one of his employees. AFP,
“It brings a different flavor to the sweetness,” he said while serving customers a cup of traditional cardamom-spiced milk tea – which is also new to most Egyptians.
The business model is clearly working, ‘Jib Mak’ now has three branches in Cairo.
But Mr Biram says what he has left behind can hardly be compensated.
At 29, the entrepreneur believes he will likely never return to Sudan and that the businesses at home “closed due to war” are gone forever.
In little more than a year, already impoverished Sudan has fallen apart. The war killed thousands of people, displaced nearly nine million from their homes, and brought the country to the brink of famine.
“Even if things calm down, there still won’t be many business opportunities,” he said, standing firm on his plan to “see this experience through Egypt.”
Ms. Samir, who said paramilitary fighters had pursued her family as they fled Sudan, had planned to spend only a month in Egypt.
“But the war is not ending,” she said, resigning herself to finding ways to remind herself of the homeland she longs for.
“I want to hire a henna artist in the restaurant, I know Egyptians love it,” she said, laughing.
