Damascus, Sept. 7 (SANA) As summer gathers its last colors and the first autumn breezes arrive, homes across Syrian cities and villages turn into bustling workshops. Sheets are spread across rooftops, strings of okra hang from balconies, and glass jars line the shelves of household pantries.
At the heart of this seasonal activity is al-mouneh, the traditional Levantine practice of preserving seasonal produce for the months ahead.
In Syria, the practice has been passed down through generations and encompasses far more than food preservation. It is a social and cultural tradition that brings families together around seasonal work, passes household knowledge from one generation to the next and makes use of the land’s bounty to prepare for the months ahead.
Summer bounty in winter jars
Makdous holds a special place in Syrian al-mouneh, earning its familiar description as the “king of the pantry.” Small eggplants are boiled and drained, then stuffed with walnuts, red peppers and garlic before being preserved in oil.
Alongside makdous are traditional dairy products, including local cheese, preserved labneh and shanklish, reflecting different methods developed over generations to preserve milk products.
The sun itself is an essential part of this heritage. Mulukhiyeh, okra and eggplant are dried beneath its rays, along with zucchini skins left after the vegetables have been hollowed out for stuffing.
Tomatoes, peppers and pomegranates undergo a different transformation. Through pressing and slow cooking, they become concentrated pastes and syrups, while jams preserve the seasonal flavors of figs, apricots and pumpkin.
The grain harvest has rituals of its own. Wheat is boiled, dried and cracked to make bulgur, while green wheat is roasted to produce freekeh. In earlier times, grains and lentils were stored in large clay vessels to protect them from moisture and insects.
Together, these methods allowed households to extend the life of seasonal produce and carry the flavors of summer and harvest time into winter.
Knowledge passed through generations
Damascene historian and researcher Munir Kayal offers a vivid picture of al-mouneh’s place in the everyday life of Damascus in his book Shami Rhythms in the Essence of Damascene Behavior.
Kayal wrote that traditional grocers sold homemade kishk, a dried fermented mixture of yogurt and bulgur, while grain merchants dealt in bulgur and kishk alongside cheese and eggs.
He also documented how surplus provisions produced by farming families made their way into city stores. Fine and coarse bulgur and kishk would be examined for quality and to establish that they belonged to that year’s provisions before a price was agreed.
Such details reveal that Damascene al-mouneh was not confined to the household pantry. It formed part of a broader economic system beginning with agricultural production in the countryside, followed by preparation, drying, sorting and storage, and extending to exchange and distribution in the homes and markets of Damascus.
In an interview published by Popular Culture magazine, Kayal recalled another dimension of this relationship through memories of his childhood in Damascus’ al-Shaghour neighborhood.
On Fridays, he would travel to villages surrounding the capital carrying glasses and pitchers produced by a glass factory and exchange them for provisions such as bulgur, cheese and eggs before returning with the food to his family.
The memory illuminates an important aspect of Damascene al-mouneh: the close relationship between the city and its countryside.
Craftsmen and farmers exchanged what each produced, while food provisions moved between rural and urban communities. In this way, al-mouneh became both a means of securing household needs and an expression of social cooperation and the popular economy of Damascus.
A family tradition, a community bond
Researcher and writer Nasr al-Din al-Bahra also placed al-mouneh within the history of everyday Damascene life.
In his 1992 book Damascus: The Secrets, al-Bahra described the traditional home’s inner courtyard, or ard al-diyar, as a space for family work, sharing knowledge and carrying out seasonal tasks.
Writer and folklore researcher Adel Abu Shanab similarly documented scenes from the lives and popular memory of Damascenes in his study Damascus in the Old Days, recording traditions and the changes that affected them over time.
Seen through this documentation, al-mouneh can be understood as an extension of the culture of mutual assistance within the traditional neighborhood.
Neighbors and female relatives shared tasks that could be difficult for one woman to complete alone. Preparing large quantities of food therefore became an occasion not only for work but also for exchanging knowledge and stories and strengthening ties among families.
The tradition has persisted even when Syrian families have been displaced from their homes.
Anthropologist China Sajadian, in a 2025 study published in Anthropology News drawing on earlier fieldwork with displaced Syrian families in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley, documented the continued preparation of makdous, pepper paste and dried vegetables.
Her research found that al-mouneh, beyond its emotional and cultural significance, remains essential household labor that can help families reduce spending and cope with displacement and limited incomes while maintaining their connection to home and identity.
Al-awneh: The spirit of al-mouneh
Perhaps nowhere is the human value of al-mouneh more visible than in al-awneh — the tradition of relatives and neighbors coming together to help one another complete demanding seasonal work.
Women gather around a large basin of makdous, clean mulukhiyeh leaves or chop peppers. Work is accompanied by conversations and songs, while skills and knowledge pass naturally from grandmothers to daughters and grandchildren.
Through al-awneh, preserving food becomes an act of preserving relationships as well.
For Souad Baqdounis, a homemaker from rural Damascus, that connection remains part of everyday life.
She considers preparing al-mouneh at home less expensive, more reliable and better tasting than buying preserved products from the market.
Baqdounis learned the tradition from her mother and grandmother. Despite advancing age, she still finds pleasure in preparing homemade kishk, boiling wheat and making bulgur, drying fresh mint, and producing tomato, pomegranate and unripe grape syrups.
Today, she works alongside her married daughters and daughters-in-law to prepare al-mouneh and distribute it among their families, continuing an annual ritual renewed with the seasons.
For Baqdounis, the practice strengthens affection and closeness within the family. Al-mouneh, she says, is not simply food stored for another season, but family knowledge preserved by the hands that practice it and passed from one generation to the next.
Ancient knowledge for changing times
The practices underlying al-mouneh have deep roots in Syria’s agricultural history.
In his 1992 doctoral thesis at University College London, Syrian archaeologist Amr Al-Azm examined crop-storage remains from Tell Brak and Tell Kerma, two third-millennium sites in northern Syria. Drawing on modern ethnographic evidence, his research explored how archaeological plant remains could reveal different forms of crop processing and storage, including products such as freekeh, bulgur and roasted barley.
The research does not establish a direct line between today’s al-mouneh and ancient food practices, but it points to a long history of processing harvests and managing food supplies in the region.
Across Syria’s diverse geography, such practices evolved with local crops, tastes and household needs. Today, drying and preserving foods in brine or oil remain practical ways of extending the life of seasonal produce for winter and the months ahead.
Yet al-mouneh’s significance extends beyond food preservation. From jars of makdous and strings of sun-dried vegetables to bulgur, kishk and fruit syrups, it remains a form of household knowledge handed down through generations.
It preserves the flavors of the seasons, strengthens family bonds and carries forward traditions shaped by the Syrian household’s enduring ability to make use of the harvest, prepare for the months ahead and adapt to changing circumstances.
R.D/M.F
