Introduction

The clamor of pots and pans, the rise and fall of a dozen voices laughing and talking, the neat clack of knives, the splatter of hot oil: This is the kitchen at the Olive Roots Cooperative in the Zeitoun neighborhood of old Gaza City. The tiny concrete-block room is dense with the warm, wheaty scent of steaming maftool, offset by the bright tang of lemon and fresh dill and the velvety perfume of cinnamon. Heedless of the 100-degree heat and the power outage, the cooperative’s members peel pumpkins and marinate chickens, fry eggplants and crush garlic in a whir of activity. While all hands are at work, the conversation ranges from thyroid troubles to daughters-in-law, from the ravages of the most recent war to the correct candying of carrots.