Cookies and Crescents: An Eid Story (A Picture Book) by sales-abramsbooks

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Words by Nada Shawish Dutka

Abrams Books for Young Readers

New York

Pictures by Zelma Firdauzia

In the city where I was born, Mama knows everyone. I call neighbors “cousins.” People smile and say, “Salaam! Peace be upon you!”

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And everyone loves Mama’s Eid cookies.

Our neighborhood potlucks are full of lovely dishes. It’s never a competition, but I know who would win: Mama’s crumbly, walnut-y, buttery cookies are always the best sweets at the table. I can’t lose a single crumb!

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Eid is almost here. This year, I’m finally old enough to help make Mama’s cookies.

What a terrible time to move. The whole point of Eid is to feast with my cousins. What is Mama thinking?

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“A huge yard with lots of stars in the sky. Your own closet for all your things. And even a bigger kitchen to bake in! Isn’t that great?”

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“Absolutely not!”

I like our crowded, noisy city. Our home.

Our minivan is packed so tight it’s hard to see out the back. I watch our city get smaller and smaller until it’s gone.

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“I know now’s not the perfect time.” Mama grips the steering wheel.

“But al harakah barakah, Reem. Movement is a blessing.”

The long drive makes me carsick. I close my eyes and pretend I’m baking cookies with Mama in our city.

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The house in our new neighborhood is at the end of a long, winding road called a cul-de-sac.

“We made it,” Mama says. “And guess what? Eid might be tomorrow!”

In the city, people rely on their phones to tell them when it’s time for Eid. But my cousins still gather outside to look for the new moon, even though the city lights are too bright to see it.

Tonight, it’ll be just me and Mama who look from between tall boxes.

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Mama examines her watch. “It’s time to break our fast. We’ll look for the moon after Maghrib, okay?” She assembles prayer mats side by side.

I droop. What if we don’t see the moon here either? I think we’ll be unpacking forever.

“How about cookies?” Mama folds up the prayer mats and pats my shoulder.

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Finally! Mama kept her promise. She has everything we need for Eid cookies. Semolina flour, lots of sugar, butter, dates, and . . .

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“Mama! Where are the walnuts?”

I count the ingredients on the kitchen counter at least four times.

“We have to go back and get them right now!”

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“The store’s too far, Reem, and I am very tired. We’ll use what we have . . .”

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Nothing was ever too far in the city.

“No, no, NO! It won’t be the same!”

Everything is changing too fast. The carsick feeling is back, and I am dizzy and hot. I want to ROAR at Mama! But I feel very, very small. Mama crouches beside me.

“I moved away from my home too, when I was just a little older than you,” Mama says. “We didn’t have much, but my Mama told me when you take old traditions somewhere new, they get even better—if you want them to.”

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“Home is where you make it.” Mama scans the boxes marked kitchen. “And we’ll make do.”

“Pistachios!” I gasp. “We’ve never made Eid cookies with those.”

When we make baklava with pistachios, they look like beautiful EMERALD GEMS.

“Should we try something new?” Mama smiles.

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Mama shows me how to make the cookies step-by-step.

We use special molds to roll dough into perfect balls and SMACK the handles against the counter.

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Our cookies bake in the oven until they are golden. “Bismillah!” Mama says. “Are you proud of your cookies?”

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“They are so good!” I mumble through a mouthful.

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“Mama, remember when we shared Eid treats? Don’t you miss our neighbors and family?”

DING-DONG!

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“Maybe we can still share. I think you might have a new friend out there,” Mama says and points out the window.

A girl is cradling a pie in our walkway. She is gazing at the sky. Is she looking for the moon?

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Mama hands me a box of cookies.

I take a deep breath and open the door.

“Hi . . . salaam . . . I’m Reem.”

“I’m Sara,” she says shyly. I step out and meet her.

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There, up high, hanging in the world’s largest blanket of twinkle lights, is a beaming crescent smiling at us.

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It is magnificent.

“I’ve never seen the new moon in the sky like this,” I say. “We just moved from the city.”

“We live across the street. My mama sent me to give you this pie.”

I almost forgot! I open my box.

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“They’re Eid cookies. Eid Mubarak! I mean . . . happy holiday! I mean . . . try one?”

“What’s in them?” Sara asks.

“Semolina flour, lots of sugar and butter and dates, and this year . . . pistachios!”

Sara takes a bite. “They taste special. And they look like gems!”

“I know!!”

“Eid Mubarak! Try mine!”

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I take a bite of gooey, cinnamon-y fruit, and savory, buttery crust.

Sara is an excellent baker. Next year, I’ll have to make my Eid cookies even better to trade.

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There are no honking horns. No sirens. Crickets are humming. It’s getting darker and darker. We can hardly see our feet.

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Savoring the best Eid cookies and pie, we gaze at the moon. It’s the same moon that’s always been in the sky. Now, I can see it for myself.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

There are moments in life that make you grow up a little faster than others. Just before adolescence, my parents moved me and my brother to a more affluent, less diverse neighborhood in suburban Virginia. I was so angry with them and very scared of everything I thought I was going to lose. Big moves are so hard and full of painful sacrifices, but what I learned is that they are also full of love and hope. A big move isn’t always your choice, but you can choose to see new possibilities. Change can help you learn to overcome challenges, if you look both within yourself and up, rather than only at what’s behind and ahead of you.

I know now—even though our big move was hard for them too—that my parents’ resiliency, determination, and openness to change afforded me and my siblings opportunities to make new choices and explore new opportunities. It’s this kind of introspective growth and change that Eid al-Fitr celebrates. Following the end of a long month of fasting and self-reflection, an Eid feast revolves around coming together as family and community to share in the joy of starting a new year and the opportunity to grow.

For my mom, no matter where we were or what was going on, any and every problem had a solution, and she taught me many of those lessons through improvising beloved Palestinian recipes in the kitchen (like ma’amoul cookies!) and her openness to sharing with others.

I wrote this story at a particularly difficult time, when tides were rising and I felt so much anxiety about things I didn’t have control over—change and uncertainty about the future. In a way, I wrote this story to remind myself of what I already knew and what my parents had taught me during times of change—that I can always choose to look up.

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I hope this story helps parents and children bond over big feelings about change and uncertainty. I also hope that this story encourages children to see new possibilities through change, even when it’s hard.

THE BEST EID COOKIES (MA’AMOUL)

For the ma’amoul spice blend:

• 2 tablespoons ground anise

• 2 tablespoons ground fennel

• 1 teaspoon ground cardamom

For the dough:

• 1 cup melted butter

• ½ cup samneh (ghee)

• 4 cups fine semolina

• 3 tablespoons powdered milk

• ½ cup all-purpose flour

DIRECTIONS:

For the dough (continued):

• 3 tablespoons ma’amoul spice blend

• ¼ teaspoon ground mahlab (can substitute with ground cardamom or ground fennel)

• ½ teaspoon ground mastic (can substitute with vanilla extract)

• 4 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon sugar

• 1 teaspoon yeast

• 1 cup milk

1. For the ma’amoul spice blend: In a small jar, combine all of the spices and shake to blend.

2. For the dough: In a large bowl, add melted butter and samneh to the semolina. Rub the mixture between your hands to incorporate, until crumbly. Cover and let rest for 24 hours.

3. The next day, add powdered milk, flour, ma’amoul spice blend, mahlab, mastic, and 4 tablespoons of sugar to the bowl of semolina dough.

4. Mix yeast with the remaining 1 teaspoon sugar in warm milk (around 100º to 110ºF) to wake up the yeast. (It should start bubbling in about 10 minutes.)

For the date filling:

• 2 13-ounce packages of pressed dates

• ¼ teaspoon mahlab (or ground cardamom or ground fennel)

• ¼ teaspoon mastic (or ground cardamom or ground fennel)

• 1 tablespoon ma’amoul spice blend

• 5 tablespoons olive oil

• ¼ cup chopped walnuts or pistachios (optional)

8. Using 2 tablespoons of the semolina dough, roll the dough into a ball. Repeat with the rest of the semolina dough. Using 1½ teaspoons of the date filling, roll the filling into a ball. Repeat with the rest of the date filling. The smaller size of the date filling balls will make stuffing the dough easy.

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5. Add the yeast mixture to the semolina dough and knead with your hands until combined, 5 minutes.

6. Cover and let the dough rest for 20 minutes, then cool in the fridge for another 10 minutes. While you’re waiting, preheat the oven to 425ºF.

7. For the date filling: In another bowl, combine pressed dates, mahlab, mastic, ma’amoul spice blend, olive oil, and nuts (if using), smooshing well with your fingers. Add a splash of olive oil if the date mixture is too sticky! Set aside.

9. If you have a ma’amoul mold, press a ball of semolina dough into the mold, and put a ball of the date filling inside. Seal the dough around the date filling and press into the mold. Carefully turn the mold over and smack the handle against the counter to let the cookie loose. (No ma’amoul mold? After stuffing the dough balls with date filling in the palm of your hand, use a fork, fingers, or tiny metal tongs to “pinch” and “press” your own design into the top of the cookie dough.) Repeat with the remaining dough and date filling.

10. Evenly space stuffed cookies 1 to 2 inches apart on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

11. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until golden brown.

12. Let cookies cool, 3 to 5 minutes, until dry.

OPTIONAL: Once completely cooled, dust with powdered sugar.

For Mom and Dad.

—N.S.D.

For my family.

—Z.F.

The art in this book was created digitally using Procreate and Adobe Photoshop.

Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for and may be obtained from the Library of Congress.

ISBN 978-1-4197-7332-7 eISBN 979-8-88707-264-7

This is an advance, uncorrected proof. Not for resale, duplication, or reposting. Please do not quote without comparison to the finished book.

Published in 2025 by Abrams Books for Young Readers, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

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