No one truly knows when Ramadan, the ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar, commences until the evening before. When I began fasting in my early teens living in Karachi, Pakistan, I remember the anticipation that accompanied the sighting of a new moon that heralded the month’s beginning. For 30 consecutive days as the sun set beneath the skyline, my multi-generational family would gather around the dining table that was heaving with platters of nourishing food and recount the day’s activities, share jokes, and invariably talk about what we would be eating for Suhoor/Sehri (the pre-dawn meal) a few hours later. For me, the beauty of Ramadan was embodied in the contrast between the tenacity and austerity of the day’s fast and the fortifying wholesomeness of a communal iftar, which ends a long stretch of hunger and abstinence.

Food is undoubtedly central to the observance of Ramadan. But the essence of the month goes beyond the ritual of fasting – it truly lies in the spirit of sharing, giving and strengthening bonds. How Muslim communities observe Ramadan varies by geography, ethnicity and adaptability to local realities. I spoke to three chefs across the globe, for whom the month of Ramadan assumes special significance exploring how their relationship with food and a focus on community manifests during the month.

Mr Naved Nasir is the London-based executive chef at Dishoom, a celebrated UK institution with locations across London, Edinburgh, Manchester and Birmingham.

For Muslims, fasting during Ramadan is an act of devotion, but it can be challenging. How does a chef like you navigate your relationship with food during this month?

Mr Naved Nasir: The first week of Ramadan is typically the hardest, but after that, the body adjusts to the limited food intake. I have to admit around late afternoon when you haven’t eaten for 12 hours and are standing at the grill or near a burnishing tandoor, you are bound to feel pangs of hunger and also thirst from the heat. But I like to think the more you are pushed to your limits, the greater spiritual reward you are accruing.

Aside from abstinence from food and drink, an integral part of Ramadan is charity and feeding local communities. In 2015, Shamil Thakrar [co-founder of Dishoom] and I introduced the idea of donating a meal for everyone who dined at Dishoom during the month. I’m very proud of the fact that to date we have donated around 10 million meals in India and the UK as part of this initiative.

How can the absence of food deepen its meaning?

We don’t value food these days. This is evident in the amount of food we waste daily. When you are not consuming food for 16-18 hours, you realise the true value of it.

Abstinence from food during the month grounds me and deepens my empathy for those who don’t have access to affordable food and clean drinking water. I often go to my local mosque for Maghrib prayers and to open my fast because everyone shares a simple meal sitting on the floor. Sometimes it’s just a bowl of lentils and a roti or a simple curry and naan. This, in my view, is the essence of fasting – it should be an equaliser.

What are some of your favourite dishes to eat and cook during Ramadan?

One of my favourite dishes to prepare and eat is haleem, a rich slow-cooked stew with lamb, lentils, bulgur and pearly barley that has been eaten in the Indian subcontinent for centuries. It’s nutritious, energising and synonymous with Ramadan.

Rooh Afza [a rose-flavoured concentrate] mixed with milk is a constant feature on the iftar table at home to rekindle my childhood memories. I also prepare black chickpeas that are traditionally cooked with onions and coriander, green chillies and mint, but I like to put my own twist by adding peppers and pomegranate seeds.

**Ms Salam Dakkak established the restaurant Bait Maryam in 2017 in Dubai as a tribute to her mother, Maryam. Of Palestinian origin, Dakkak was born and raised in Jordan. Her cooking spans the culinary traditions of the Levant region – Jordan, Lebanon, Palestine and Syria. **

What are your earliest Ramadan memories?

Ms Salam Dakkak: Thinking back to the Ramadan of my childhood in Al-Zarqa, Jordan, makes me want to cry because the memories fill my heart. A distinct memory is my mother preparing white or green dishes in the first 10 days of Ramadan – these included delicacies such as laban immo, yogurt and lamb stew cooked with garlic and mint, and moloukhiya, a leafy green vegetable that turns into a gelatinous stew when cooked in broth. I’m not entirely sure about the significance of white and green foods during Ramadan, but they are holy colours in Islam and we also associate them with peace and happiness.

_How has your relationship with food during Ramadan changed over time? _

Before establishing the restaurant, I used to have 40-50 people pouring into my home every single day for iftar during Ramadan. Sometimes I didn’t even know who everyone was, but it was a joyful occasion truly reflecting the spirit of Ramadan, which is about community and generosity in feeding others. Now I struggle to find time to sit with my family and open my fast because I have to be in the restaurant kitchen ensuring all my guests are receiving hot food on time. But, to be honest, I don’t find it difficult to be surrounded by food while fasting.

I actually think we cook our best during Ramadan because it’s such a blessed month that we prepare for throughout the year both spiritually and physically. Nothing gives me more fulfilment than nourishing those who walk through my doors after a long day at work in the sweltering Dubai heat without having consumed any food or drink for 12-14 hours.

What will you be cooking and eating this Ramadan

I typically cook food I enjoy eating myself. This Ramadan, I’m going to be following the same tradition I have in past years. After the adhan [call to prayer] for Maghrib, we offer a prayer together and then serve dates and Arabic coffee.

I prepare a selection of hot and cold appetisers, which vary daily, but having fattoush, a salad of toasted pita tossed with fresh herbs with a sumac and olive oil dressing, is essential in Ramadan. Other appetisers include sambusak, crescent shaped turnovers filled with ground meat or cheese, and hummus.

One of the main course dishes I love preparing, which is beloved across the Levant region, is maqloobeh. The dish is cooked in one pot, with layers of rice, chicken or lamb, and vegetables such as cauliflower and aubergine, and then flipped over once ready.

Of course, no iftar is complete without dessert, which I change every day. One of these is kunafa, a luscious cheese pastry made with semolina dough drizzled with sugar syrup.

Mr Sadaf Hussain was a finalist on MasterChef India in 2016 and now works as a consultant chef across several restaurants in Delhi, India. He has also authored the book Daastan-e-Dastarkhan: Stories And Recipes From Muslim Kitchens.

What is the significance of Ramadan and fasting for you?

Mr Sadaf Hussain: As a young adult, fasting felt more prescriptive and a continuation of tradition that one doesn’t necessarily question. However, now I see abstinence from food during the month as a form of self-discipline. I try and fast for all 30 days and it’s a true test of controlling my desire for what I love the most, which is food.

Community and charitable giving are a cornerstone of Ramadan. How does this manifest for you?

In India, the observance of Ramadan is all about community and not just amid practicing Muslims. In the old quarter of Delhi, there is a festive atmosphere. The food markets in the bylanes near the Jama Mosque are heaving with people from all faiths from sunset until dawn who are there to enjoy the typical Ramadan delicacies such as biryani and nihari. It’s a beautiful atmosphere.

When I was growing up in Bihar, eastern India, we would typically share food cooked at home with members of our local mosque, many of whom were underprivileged because nobody should go hungry this month. In Delhi, I try and carry on the same tradition.

What will you be cooking and eating for Suhoor and iftar?

Suhoor is typically an austere affair. I usually eat daliya, which is cracked wheat porridge, for the sustenance it provides for the long stretch of fasting ahead. When I am feeling indulgent, I enjoy jalebi (a sweet sticky pretzel shaped confection) dipped in milk.

The iftar table at home is usually a spread with four main elements – an assortment of pakoras (thin disks of bottle gourd, aubergine and potato deep fried in a batter of spiced gram flour), phulki (lentil fritters), samosas and a sweet item such as shahi tukda (fried bread slices dipped in saffron milk and garnished with nuts). I usually prepare the filling for the samosas, which consists of mince mutton cooked with spices. The filling is tucked inside a dough made with flour, oil and salt and then deep fried.

One of my other signature Ramadan dishes is a large green chilli slit and filled with achar masala (mango powder, red chilli and salt), which is shallow fried. It adds a wonderful tang to the rest of the iftar spread.