You can get Hamam (pigeon) butterflied and grilled, stuffed and baked, or in tagen with tomatoes and rice.
We tried other Egyptian favorites too-- falafels right out of the sidewalk skillet, 2-am snacks at the kebab stand on the corner, and delectably spicy lamb meatballs called koftas. Our favorite meal was the blackened fish, grilled before our eyes in Khan el-Khalili’s farmer’s market.
So it was an ironic coincidence that I tried that Egyptian household favorite, pigeon, in the manicured garden of westernized, 5* Hotel on Zamalek Island, in the heart of the ex-pat district, in the middle of the Nile.
Seated on the umbrella-ed patio, we were delighted to find this revered specialty on the menu. We had read about this local favorite, and had listened patiently for weeks now, to drooling dining tales of our fellow travelers. Now, just hours before our departure, we finally had our chance to try it. We sat making light conversation, enjoying our rare cocktail (liquor is all but prohibited in Cairo), but the whole time, I eyed the other tables, and momentarily wondered why no one – neither the affluent locals families nor the stylish European travelers – was seated before a plate of the Revered Pigeon. Smugly I thought, they just don’t know the good stuff!
And then, with a flourish of my charming Arabic waiter, my much-anticipated entrée arrived… and it looked more like a bat than lunch! Check it out:
I prodded it with my fork—seemed a bit like a tiny game hen. I smelled it - yummy. I examined its shape, with the barely recognizable head and beak grilled intact – no problem. And so, with undaunted zest, I dug in!
Forget game hens! It was more like eating a small lake trout, with tiny needles of bones in every forkful. I worked diligently but was never able to scrounge even a full bite. I snuck in forkfuls of rice, just to keep up the illusion of a normal meal.
Finally, I gave up. How could this possibly be a household staple? Everyone in Cairo would be emaciated!
Only one thing to do! I rolled up my sleeves and picked up the “leg”… recall Tom Hanks in the movie, “BIG”, eating the mini corncob, teeth razoring over the fine edges… that was my pigeon experience!
No worries… I kept working away at it, and soon had a matchstick-esque pile of bones on my plate. That’s when I noticed a pair of coifed and starched Egyptian businessmen at the next table, raising eyebrows and whispering to each other. Clearly, I had taken a social misstep…. Was it wrong to eat food with your hands in Cairo culture?
I tried to “clean up my act’, but finesse as I might, I rather messily – and hungrily – made my way to the bottom of the pigeon. I even sampled the tiny head and beak. Somewhere along the way, I recalled my father’s comments about the similarly slim rewards of “picking” Blue Crabs on the Chesapeake… well, he had no room to complain until he mastered this miniscule meal.
The waiter finally arrived at our table and asked about our meal. Did I feel elated, to have finally tasted the Revered Pigeon? Or was I just plain ornery from frustrated hunger? Clearly, I was shamed by my apparently uncouth table manners. I decided I could trust the waiter, so I confided the scorn of my whispering neighbors.
He literally roared with laughter.
They were not judging my etiquette… they were just wondering what the hell I was doing, picking around the bones. I was supposed to EAT the entire bird, bones and all!
Explore the Amalfi trail of old trading days and check out the erotic pictographs in Pompeii. … all here on the Italian Mediterranean.
