For her series California Foodways, Lisa Morehouse is reporting a story about food and farming from each of California’s 58 counties.

This weekend, Muslims around California will celebrate Eid al-fitr to mark the end of the holy month of Ramadan. For the past month, observers have fasted from dawn to dusk. And though fasting is a big part of Ramadan, so is food.

All month long, all across the state, markets have been central to Ramadan. Not only do they supply the ingredients for the holiday, they also connect people from all ethnicities who follow Islam.

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One such place is Besan’s International Market in San Bruno, right under the flight path of San Francisco International Airport. It’s essentially three businesses in one: a Halal butcher in the back, a kitchen for take-out and catering and a market that carries Arab, Middle Eastern and South Asian goods, from staples to snacks.

Owner Thaher Shehadeh said the days around the beginning of Ramadan are some of his busiest of the year.

Shop owner Thaher Shehadeh, left, checks over the stock of groceries. Shehadeh bought the business a decade ago. (David M. Barreda/KQED)

“I have to be ready for it and prepare for it for months before it starts,” he said, in between fielding calls from customers.

The market is stuffed with goods, but it’s as tidy as a library. Because it’s Ramadan, it has even more merchandise than during the rest of the year — especially dates.

Boxes of dates from all over the world are stacked waist-high in every available space because it’s traditional to break the Ramadan fast with dates.

“We have dates from Palestine,” Shehadeh said. “They’re hard to find. Also from California, of course, one of the best dates we have.”

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Shehadeh supplies other ingredients for Ramadan specialties from Asia to Africa.

“In Ramadan, people use a lot of puff pastry and sambusa and spring rolls,” he said.

But he has to have more of everything on hand: more pita, cheese, meat, everything. “People in Ramadan, they fast, but they eat more. I think because people invite each other [over]. You invite four, you cook for eight.”

Towards the back of the shop, shelves are stacked with at least 15 kinds of rice — from India, Pakistan, Egypt and Turkey. Shehadeh said that rice is an ingredient customers can get really picky about.

In the sweets aisle, he pointed out ma’amoul, a semolina cookie filled with dates or figs, and baklava — some made in Jordan, some in Fremont. He stopped in front of a cream biscuit from Yemen that’s been in production for 50 years.

Grape leaves, pickled olives and oils are on display in the window. (David M. Barreda/KQED)

“At least three generations, the same shape, the same taste. Just [a] very simple thing,” Shehadeh said. “But it reminds people of their childhood back home, and they have memories with the food.”

From the bottom shelf of the candy section, he picks up a glass jar holding candies shaped like fruit, something he remembers from when he was about six years old. “Back then, not many snacks were available where I grew up,” he said.

Shehadeh moved here from Palestine in the early 1990s, when he was 22 years old.

“The first time I came here, for me it was a culture shock,” he said.

He left a place where people socialized a lot. He said it was absolutely expected that people would knock on your door at any time. Here, he said, the expectation is privacy.

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But during Ramadan, people gather: to worship, to be in community and to step away from material life.

San Mateo County is home to the largest percentage of Arabs of all faiths in the state of California. Even though it’s a small part of the total population, the number of Muslims here tripled in the last 15 years.

Shehadeh said that when he moved to the U.S. from Palestine, he worked for UPS for years. Since he purchased Besan’s from a family friend 10 years ago, Shehadeh has made sure the store reflects the community. He even closes up shop for an hour on Fridays so he and other Muslims in the neighborhood can pray together.

As he gave a tour of Besan’s, Shehadeh received a call from a friend who’s not a strict Muslim. When he hung up, Shehadeh said with a laugh, “Some people call me to ask me, ‘When is Ramadan?’”

That’s a fair question. Ramadan follows the lunar calendar, starting after the sighting of the new moon, which is the subject of an annual debate. The holiday moves up about ten days every year.

Employees (left to right) Rachid Mouhaya, Arif Shehadeh and Mahmood Al Nasr prepare to break fast behind the deli counter. (David M. Barreda/KQED)

Souad Elibrami said shopping in a store like this brings her back to Morocco. “When you come to the Arabic store, you feel like your country,” she said. “Everyone is celebrating Ramadan, and I like it.”

She comes to Besan’s every month for staples: meat, chicken and semolina. For Ramadan, she’s preparing special dishes from her hometown of Casablanca.

“We make chebakia,” Elibrami said, of a dessert made from deep-fried strips of dough rolled into the shape of a rose. “We make soup, harira, and sometimes tagine,” she added.

Besan’s isn’t just about tapping into nostalgia. Shehadeh keeps his eye on what’s trending on social media. He knows what his community wants, like Salaam Cola, for example.

Shoppers stroll the aisles as sunset nears. (David M. Barreda/KQED)

“That’s just a regular replacement for Coca-Cola, but it’s Turkish,” Shehadeh explained. “People who are boycotting Coca-Cola, they buy this.”

Pro-Palestinian activists have long scrutinized Coca-Cola’s operations in the Atarot Settlement Industrial Zone in Israeli-occupied Palestinian territory. Israel forcibly removes Palestinian communities in order to build settlements like Atarot. The United Nations has called such Israeli settlements a “flagrant” violation of international law.

In opposition to Israel’s occupation of Palestine and their ongoing bombardment in Gaza, global boycotts against reportedly complicit companies have surged. Coca-Cola and other U.S. megabrands like McDonald’s, Starbucks and KFC have all experienced a decline in sales in regions that have had Palestine-related boycotts, the Washington Post reported.

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Toward the back of the shop, a man navigated one of Besan’s narrow aisles, carrying a whole frozen lamb on his shoulder. Shehadeh explained that people can source their meat elsewhere and bring it here to be butchered.

“Of course, we have halal fresh meat,” he said, explaining that the meat has been butchered by Islamic guidelines.

In shops like this, the relationship between butchers and customers is special: butchers need to have options for every budget and every background. It’s the most crowded corner of the store, with a growing line of people placing and picking up orders. Butcher Rachid Mouhaya took the order of one man ordering 12 pounds of goat meat.

“He needs shoulder; he doesn’t like leg,” Mouhaya explained. “He wants something more juicy. Maybe he’s going to cook something like biryani. I mean, he’s Indian.” Arab customers may want different cuts, different meats for dishes like maqluba, he explained.

Kamal Boussaid cuts a quartered lamb in the walk-in cooler. Born in Algeria, Boussaid worked in a butcher shop in Brooklyn’s Bay Ridge neighborhood for years before getting married and moving to the Bay Area. (David M. Barreda/KQED)

Mouhaya said he’s worked at Besan’s for four years and has been breaking down animals since he was a teenager, learning from butchers in Morocco and France. After he came to the Bay Area, he worked at halal butcher shops and at Indian and Pakistani restaurants while getting his Master in Business Administration.

Another customer approached the butcher counter to pick up an order. Joe Akhmed said he’s from Uzbekistan and was buying for the Central Asian restaurant Sofiya in San Francisco.

During Ramadan, the butcher counter is especially busy, but Mouhaya said he loves this time of year. He cooks for others and gets invited over. It’s a month of reflection, salvation and community.

Shehadeh stands in the afternoon sun along San Mateo Avenue in San Bruno. During Ramadan, he generally leaves the store before sundown so he can break fast with his family. (David M. Barreda/KQED)

Shehadeh agreed. He said he’s proud to run this business that brings his neighbors closer together.

“I’m glad I can be part of it,” he said, supplying the community with the ingredients to gather and observe.

This time of year, those things become more important. But for Shehadeh, Ramadan boils down to one thing: “To me, it’s my chance to go closer to my Creator,” he said.

And in this shop, you can just feel a kind of communion — of faith, food and togetherness.

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In San Mateo County, This Market Is a Community Destination for Food, Faith and Ramadan Staples