From feast to survival: The ‘fake’ makloubeh and fattah of a starving Gaza

Beside a makeshift firewood stove, in a classroom that has served as their home for the past year, Um Kamal Ubeid gently feeds her one-year-old grandson, Kareem.

The dish is simple: bread soaked in tea, but for Palestinians in Gaza, it has become a lifeline amid extreme scarcity.

Known locally as tea fattah, the modest meal is long associated with Gaza’s darkest times, like Israeli offensives and prolonged blockades.

Now, with rice, grains and tinned food all exhausted under an ongoing total Israeli siege, it is all the Ubeid family have left to survive on.

“I don’t exactly remember the first time I had tea fattah, but I was around 14 during the early years of the blockade and the 2008–2009 war,” said Kareem’s father, Kamal Ubeid, 32, speaking to Middle East Eye.

“Back then, we had nothing to eat, so we survived on tea and the dry bits of bread we could find.”

Kamal recalls how his mother would prepare it for him and his siblings, especially when they cried from hunger.

“Even today, she still makes it, for us and my children,” he said.

“These days, we rely on it more than ever, since we’ve run out of tinned food. It’s either tea fattah or manakish.”

Since the beginning of its war on Gaza, Israel has sealed the strip’s borders and severely restricted the entry of goods, food, medicine, and fuel.

But on 2 March, it imposed a total blockade, completely blocking the entry of all life-saving supplies, including food, water and international aid.

At the same time, Israeli forces have routinely opened fire on Palestinian fishermen and farmers trying to access what remains of the strip’s devastated food sources, killing and wounding dozens.

Gaza’s population of approximately 2.3 million has been plunged into what the UN and humanitarian organisations have described as a “man-made” famine, one that has already claimed the lives of scores of civilians, particularly children and the elderly.

Wartime meals

Um Kamal is no stranger to announcements of Israeli blockades. Whenever she hears that one is imminent, she begins stockpiling essentials – tinned goods, grains, wheat flour – and, most importantly, large quantities of tea.

“In normal times, we love tea so much that we drink it day and night. But during times of scarcity, it becomes a source of nourishment when we’re hungry, a comfort when we’re anxious, and even a substitute for coffee when we struggle with withdrawal,” Um Kamal Ubeid told MEE.

‘During the blockade on northern Gaza in the first year of this war, we used to boil tea seven or eight times a day. We had nothing else to eat or drink’

– Um Kamal Ubeid

“During the blockade on northern Gaza in the first year of this war, we used to boil tea seven or eight times a day. We had nothing else to eat or drink,” she recalled.

“When it was dark and the bombs shook the city, we would gather around the firewood, drink tea, and make tea fattah for our children to distract ourselves.”

Now, as supplies dwindled again, milk and baby formula were among the first essentials to vanish, particularly after the UN and other aid agencies announced they were suspending distributions due to depleted warehouses. 

Without infant nutrition, families began feeding their toddlers tea fattah.

“This child is only one year old, a crucial stage of development, and he needs vitamin-enriched milk to grow properly, especially when there’s no meat, vegetables, or fruit available,” said Um Kamal.

“Yet, we feed him tea with bread. We know it’s harmful for a child this age to consume tea or any caffeine, but when he cries out in hunger, you’re left with impossible choices, either let him starve, or try to keep him alive, even if it affects his health.”

According to the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC), around 2.1 million people across the Gaza Strip are projected to face high levels of acute food insecurity between May and September.

This includes nearly 469,500 people expected to experience catastrophic food insecurity.

The current outlook marks a stark deterioration compared to the IPC analysis in October 2024, signalling a dramatic escalation in what is already one of the world’s most severe food and nutrition crises.

As of April, over 65,000 children in Gaza had been hospitalised with acute malnutrition, out of an estimated 1.1 million who face hunger daily, according to the Gaza-based Government Media Office.

‘Fake’ dishes

For Um Muhammed Nashwan, tea fattah is not just a way to feed her children. 

It substitutes for the original Gazan fattah, a beloved dish traditionally made with bread soaked in meat or chicken broth and served with generous portions of meat and white rice.

‘Our children are longing for just one proper meal, something that smells and tastes familiar’

– Um Muhammed Nashwan, Palestinian mother 

It is typically prepared on Fridays, when families come together at home to mark the start of the weekend.

“Although there is a huge difference between the two, I often make tea fattah for my children when they ask for the traditional fattah, but I only have water and bread to work with,” she told MEE.

At other times, she simply boils water, adds a pinch of salt and pepper, soaks bread in it, and serves it to her children.

“Before the war, we used to make fattah every Friday, and the key ingredient was always meat. But we haven’t seen meat in months, so we’ve had to improvise, recreating our familiar Gazan dishes with whatever we can find,” Nashwan explained.

“This dish is called ‘fake fattah’. In fact, we call any dish we make without its main ingredients ‘fake’,” she said with a laugh.

Another staple Friday meal is makloubeh, a dish whose name means “upside-down” in Arabic, referring to the way it is prepared and served by flipping it out of the pot.

It typically features layers of rice, meat (such as lamb, chicken, or beef), and vegetables like aubergine, cauliflower, and potatoes.

Even under siege and bombardment, some families have continued this Friday tradition, relying on whatever ingredients remain.

“During the war, we had none of makloubeh’s main ingredients except rice and peppers,” Nashwan explained. “So we made what we call ‘fake makloubeh’ – made without the essential meat and vegetables.”

When Israel briefly and partially lifted the blockade during the January ceasefire, limited quantities of meat and vegetables were allowed in, among other goods.

It was then that Nashwan decided to prepare a proper makloubeh for her family – the first in nearly a year.

“My youngest son, who’s seven, asked me what I was cooking. When I told him it was makloubeh, he frowned and said, ‘I hope it’s not fake this time.’

“It might sound funny, but it’s painful. Our children are longing for just one proper meal, something that smells and tastes familiar.”