Golden Strands and Family Hands: A Qena Tradition That Binds Generations

 In Qena governorate, families mark the end of Ramadan with a unique tradition: gathering to make baladi kunafa by hand over traditional clay ovens. Grandmothers teach granddaughters, neighbours share the workload, and the golden strands become gifts for everyone.

As the final days of Ramadan approach, households across Egypt begin preparing for Eid. Cookies are baked, sweets are arranged on platters, and gifts of food are exchanged between relatives and neighbours.

But in Qena governorate, one tradition stands apart. Here, families mark the end of the holy month with a ritual that has been passed down through generations: the communal making of baladi kunafa over traditional clay ovens. Grandmothers and granddaughters gather. Recipes and skills are transmitted from the old to the young. And when the work is done, the golden strands are distributed to everyone.

Kunafa Over the Clay Oven

“Bab Misr” visited a home where women and girls had gathered to make baladi kunafa over a kanoun, the traditional clay oven, sprinkling the batter onto an ancient clay saja griddle.

Hannem Mahmoud Moussa, 70, remembers how it was done before the High Dam was built. “We would gather with our mothers and a group of women in a neighbor’s house. The kanoun would be outside, in an open space. One of us would knead the kunafa dough in a large clay pot, making a big batch to distribute to everyone.”

“We gathered every day,” she continues. “We made a large quantity to give to the neighbors. We divided the tasks. One woman sprinkled the kunafa, another lit the fire beneath it, another brought the firewood, another kneaded. We kept going until the dough was finished. Then each woman took a kilo home with her.”

In those days, she explains, kunafa was eaten simply with sugar at sunset, serving as the sweet to conclude the iftar meal.

Preserving Family Heritage

Zenab Ali, 76, learned to make baladi kunafa with her mother-in-law. They would distribute it to her siblings, her husband’s siblings, and close neighbors.

“We make it because it is a traditional dish inherited from our ancestors,” she says. “My mother-in-law learned it from her mother and grandmother. I passed it to my daughters and my daughter-in-law. We still make it the old way, on the kanoun, sprinkling it with the old kozz (a perforated cup for drizzling) and using the old clay pot.”

Zenab explains how things have changed. “In the past, we made it and ate it with sugar and clarified butter. Now, we make it and store it in paper, then in the refrigerator. It lasts about half a month. Before eating, we brown it on the gas stove with clarified butter, then pour local milk sweetened with sugar over it and eat it for suhur.”

Some women, she notes, use a different method: mixing flour, water, and salt, letting the dough dry slightly, then cooking it over steam and adding sugar to eat at sunset.

Kunafa and Keeping Tradition Alive

Doaa Mohamed Ahmed, a homemaker, inherited the craft from her mother, who learned it from previous generations.

“I inherited the making of baladi kunafa the traditional way, over a simple, low flame, using the old oven or the clay kanoun,” she says.

Her family begins preparing early. “From the start of Ramadan, we get ready to build a small kanoun on the roof to make kunafa. We make one batch at the beginning of the month and another near the end. We divide the tasks among the women to make a large quantity to distribute to family members and neighbors.”

For Doaa, the day of making kunafa is special. “We make it because we inherited it from our grandparents, then from my mother. We keep this heritage alive, along with our Ramadan customs. And besides all that, it tastes beautiful. It fills your stomach at suhur.”

How It’s Made

Doaa describes the process step by step.

“We put water, a pinch of salt, then a mix of fine flour and local flour. We knead until the dough becomes liquid. Then we dip a piece of palm fiber in oil and egg and wipe the saja with it, lighting the fire beneath. We start sprinkling the kunafa through an open cup that works like a nozzle. We wait until it cooks at a low temperature, then take it out onto a large plate. We keep going until the dough is finished. Then we distribute it to everyone to eat at suhur with sugar and a little milk.”

Her sister, Nagah Mohamed Ahmed, chimes in. “We gather at the family home and make kunafa twice during Ramadan. Once at the beginning, once near the end. We inherited the tradition of making kunafa and the family gathering from our grandmothers. That is why we keep both the craft and the gathering alive during this blessed month.”

“We only make it during Ramadan,” she concludes, “because it is tied to this month. Kunafa is beautiful food, clean food, and it tastes better when made at home.”