Bake Around the World: Write in the Kitchen: Yemen, Khaliat Nahal and Community
- Liz Buechele
- Jul 30
- 4 min read
This year, I am endeavoring on a monthly challenge to bake around the world; write in the kitchen. The idea is inspired by Erin, my friend and author of This Footprint blog (IG @thisfootprint_blog) who participated in a cooking challenge for every country. Each month, I will randomly select a country and make a vegan version of a traditional dessert from that nation. And, each month, I will put intentional time into writing at least one non-Smile Project related piece. I look forward to expanding my confectionary acumen and baking around the world. And I look forward to sitting closer to home, writing for myself.
I was riding the high of last month’s mooncakes when I asked my friend to pull the country for July. Yemen.
Instantly, I was ecstatic. We have an amazing Yemeni coffee shop in our neighborhood that that very weekend I had been planning to go to. I didn’t end up making it out that weekend but a couple weeks later, I found myself packing my laptop and charger and heading to Qahwah House (qahwah means coffee in Arabic). I already knew I wanted to make Khaliat Nahal—a honeycomb cake dessert—but I thought it would still be fun to peruse the (non-vegan) pastries for inspiration.
Silly as it sounds, I get a little nervous going to coffee shops for the first time. I don’t drink coffee and hardly touch caffeine which makes me a finicky prospect; I take shocking amount of time to order an herbal tea. Then, there’s the question of where to sit, do I need an outlet, is it the kind of place where people hang out for a while? On this last question, at least, I knew the answer was yes.
There have been a few recent articles in the New York Times and other media outlets about Yemeni coffee shops. They are often open late—the one in my neighborhood closes at midnight or at 1:00 AM on the weekends—and they serve as an important community space, especially for folks who want to be out but don’t want the traditional alcohol-fueled bar scene. In my April writing piece, I actually heavily featured a Yemeni coffee shop, inspired by the very location in my neighborhood.
On a Friday afternoon, I packed my bag, walked down, ordered an herbal ginger tea for myself and a slice of Khaliat Nahal for my partner, to-go. It was beautiful and I felt even more excited about making my vegan version.
But I suppose I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s rewind. Yemen is located at the southwest corner of the Arabian peninsula. To its north, Saudi Arabia. To its east, Oman. It’s an arid and mountainous area that has been heavily influenced by its strategic location at the southern entrance to the Red Sea.
Traditional Yemeni cuisine takes its influence from other Arabian Peninsula regions as well as the cuisines of eastern Africa and South Asia. Tea and coffee are very popular. According to Brittanica, Yemen was the first place where coffee was cultivated commercially and—before the introduction of coffee plants to other parts of the world—it was the sole source.
When my friend pulled Yemen in the random country generator, she immediately said, “Oh you could make honeycomb cake!” Khaliat Nahal is an Arabic term that translates to “bee hive” and this dessert is so named for its resemblance to a, well, honeycomb. I found a recipe from Strawberry in the Desert. Aysha (IG: @strawberryinthedesert) is a food blogger based in Dubai in the United Arab Emirates and truly every recipe on her page looks amazing. The recipe wasn’t vegan so I did have to make some adjustments, but I was thrilled with how it turned out. I had enough for 3 smaller honeycombs—two I made with vegan cream cheese and when that ran out I made the third with chocolate. I was a huge fan of both.
But what about the writing portion of the month? As I spent time in my neighborhood’s Yemeni coffee shop and as I leant into community in other ways this month, I thought it might be the perfect inspiration for my writing. I ended up with a short story that is heavily inspired by the neighborhood I have lived in for the past year and almost a half.
How lucky we are to have connection and community. To learn to bake from 7,000 miles away. To write stories with a 700 step radius.
January: to beignets and book proposals (Gabon)
February: to spice cake and sunscreen (Grenada)
March: to rice pudding and Gregory (Colombia)
April: to puff puffs and how we relate (Nigeria)
May: to shendetlie and choosing new endings (Albania)
June: to mooncakes and steadiness (China)
July: to khaliat nahal and community (Yemen)
Community Note
It reminded her of when she was a child and her older sister said that swallowed gum stays in your stomach for seven years and how every time she’d accidentally swallow gum, she would go to the front page of her diary where she kept a running list of all the days she’d chewed too carelessly, counting up until the day she’d proclaim herself seven years gum free, the way old factories had signs announcing the number of days since the last accident.
