For the longest time, I struggled with my weight and how I looked. In retrospect, I realize I wasn't even fat — I was okay. But the numbers we compared ourselves to stayed in the back of my mind, even when I was swimming twice a day.
When I started "dieting," I became scared of the days we gathered at Teta's. I believed the "unhealthy food" there would ruin everything. Suddenly, lunch at her house was a "bad day." I'd think, "Khalas, just eat whatever." The funny thing is, whenever we thought of "fat," we blamed Mahshy, Rokak, and Béchamel before we ever blamed French fries, Coke, or chips.
The "Wellness" We Already Had
This fear stayed with me for years until I started cooking from Teta's book. I realized: Wait… who told us this was unhealthy? Today, the world celebrates peanut butter and coconut oil as "healthy fats," but we've forgotten that Ghee — a natural, heat-stable, grass-fed fat — has always been our foundation. Global trends are moving toward "ancestral diets" and slow cooking.
If I described a "one-pot balanced meal made with grass-fed fat and slow-cooked vegetables," you'd think it came from a trendy wellness blog. But it's simply Teta's Mahshy.
Mahshy Betengan — per serving
Calories: ~640 kcal · Protein: 28g · Fat: 26g · Carbs: 78g
A complete, nourishing lunch with meat, vegetables, rice, and broth. Not a "side snack of shame." A proper meal — without fixing the recipe or cutting the rice.
Beyond the feast
And remember, these are the festive foods. What about the everyday things? The mesabbek, the okra, the stews that simmered quietly on the stove — meals that nourished entire generations without labels, without macros, and without guilt.
Bamya, for example, is high in protein, high in fiber, rich in vitamins and antioxidants, and naturally low in processed ingredients. Add a side of rice or baladi bread and you are at around 570 to 600 calories — a full and balanced home-cooked plate.
Between mahshy (640 calories), bamya (370 calories), and kabab hallah (370 calories), most Egyptian dishes fall exactly where modern nutrition wants them to be: whole ingredients, natural fats, vegetables, and real protein.
Our grandparents' generation ate differently not because they were trying to be healthy, but because life was different. They cooked from scratch. They sat at the table. They ate real food. Sometimes I feel a little sad that we drifted away from that without realizing — years of being scared of food that was never the enemy, only to replace it with habits that made us feel worse.
Because everything needed to be fast, we started eating in a hurry, from takeaway containers, power bars, or Special K cereal. It was expensive, tasted bad, and was never filling. Food became something quick, something convenient, something you "just grab" because you are tired.
Coming back to the table
And although the harm is done, and although when I think of food I often picture myself eating on a lazyboy in front of the TV, maybe we can bring some of it back. Slowly and gently.
Let us make mahshy again. Let us make bamya. Let us make kabab hallah. Let us eat at the table, even if it is once a week. Let us start slow. Maybe we will find our place at the table more often.
Let's get cooking.