The Fable of the Fuul Pot

Every morning on the streets of Cairo you can see the men gathering at their local fuul stands to catch up on news, relax before another (typically low-stress) day at work, and chow down on some of Egypt's trademark breakfast food. It's not Cinnamon Toast Crunch, but these plates of hot gooey fava beans garnished with slices of hardboiled egg are not a bad way to start your day. If you're thinking of founding your own fuul stand, however (if you have, you're not alone), there's one caveat that you have to be aware of. Beans? Kinda boring. Eggs? You've had 'em before. The secret to dishing up a tasty plate of the famous Egyptian staple is simple: DON'T wash your pot. I know, it sounds like you'll be creating a fertile petri dish for all sorts of scary bacteria to spawn, but the taste of the fuul improves astronomically with an extra week's (or month's) seasoning. The fuul pot, called the qidra al-fuul, acquires a pungent inner skin that lends flavor and complexity to the beans inside it, like an oak cask whose scents permeate the wine aged within it. Thus it is that conventional wisdom says that the fuul merchant, however germ-conscious he may be, should clean his pot as infrequently as possible. Think about the metaphorical implications of the title to this blog, and you'll see why this simple phrase (coined by my friend Thao and I on our last trip to Egypt) is so fascinating. The fuul pot is life, the layer of grime is life's experiences. Cheesy, you say, rolling your eyes. Absolutely. That's Egypt for you. Only a fool cleans the fuul pot.