Deir al-Balah, Gaza Strip (AP) – A bowl of eggplant simmered in watery tomato juice must maintain the six Sari Mujed family of the day. She calls it Moussaka, a pale echo of fragrant, layered meat and vegetarian dishes that once filled the kitchen of Gaza with its aroma.
The war cut off families from means to farms and fish. The small foods entering the besieged strips are often plundered, stored and resold at exorbitant prices. Thus, mothers like Muzhed were forced to constant improvisation, rethinking Palestinian staples with the slightest ingredients that allow them to grab the truck by buying them from the air-drop parcel.
Israel implemented a total lockdown on trucks entering the Gaza Strip in early March and began granting aid in May, but humanitarian organisations say the amount is not appropriate.
While some chefs are becoming original, most say they are eager to break the dull repetition of the same few ingredients. Some families survive on old, brittle pitas, cans of beans that can be eaten cold due to a lack of cooked gas, or whatever they get on the day they arrive early enough for meals to be available in the charity kitchen.
“The kids are still hungry. We won’t be able to eat food tomorrow,” Muzhad said from the tent where her family was exiled in Deial Al Bala in central Gaza.
Once, her bowl had barely eaten children. Now she lathers it with a spoonful and tries to stretch it out. Her son asks why he can’t have more.
The Muzhed Family struggle is repeated throughout Gaza as it is deeply packed into what international experts call “the worst-case scenario of hunger.”
One day, a mother like Amani al Nabahin got a mujadara from the charity kitchen. Once seasoned with caramelized onions and spices, dishes are stripped of rice and lentils naked essentials.
“Nine of the ten households relied on very strict coping mechanisms to feed themselves by taking significant safety risks to get food and cleaning up from waste,” the integrated food security stage classification stated on July 29th.
Cooking gas is rare, vegetables are expensive, and meat is almost gone from the market.
The Gaza family once soaked bread pieces in dukka. This was a seasoning made with ground wheat and spices. But today, 78-year-old Alia Hanani, 78, rations the bread, served once a day at noon, allowing each person to soak in a wartime dukka made with flour, lentils and bulger.
“There’s no dinner or breakfast,” the mother of eight said.
Some people aren’t even good enough to improvise. All Rehab Al Karoubi has for her, and her seven children are bowls of raw beans.
“I had to beg for it,” she said.
For some, that’s even less. Kifah Qadih, who was kicked out of Khuza’a, east of Khan Younis, was unable to get food.
“There’s no food today. There’s nothing.”
