Zalobiya: The Kurdish Fried Pastry That Travelled to Jerusalem

Mehmet Özdemir
1 hour ago
3 min read

Zalobiya: The Kurdish Fried Pastry That Travelled to Jerusalem

Zalobiya (also zeloubiyeh, zangula, zalabiyeh) is a Kurdish fried pastry — yeast dough shaped into spirals or filled with dates or ground nuts, then fried golden in oil. It is prepared for celebrations and holidays across Kurdistan, and it is one of the Kurdish foods that travelled with Kurdish Jews to Israel. Shula Giladi, a Kurdish Jewish woman in the Galilee, teaches the recipe in culinary workshops. On Agripas Street in Jerusalem, there is a Kurdish Cultural Center where, as The Forward wrote, “with a dwindling number of native born Kurds, each year their legacy slowly declines.” The food is the last thing to survive. This article is about zalobiya, but it is also about the Kurdish Jewish food tradition — the parallel stream of Kurdish cuisine that was carried from Kurdistan to Israel in the mid-twentieth century and that preserves Kurdish dishes in families who no longer live in the mountains but still cook as if they do.

Key Takeaways

• Kurdish fried pastry — yeast dough shaped into spirals or filled with dates/nuts, fried golden in oil

• Carried from Kurdistan to Israel by Kurdish Jews — prepared for Hanukkah, Purim, and Shavuot

• Kurdish Jews in Kermanshah and Sanandaj made şilkena (Kurdish crepes) for Shavuot while the rest of Iran made rice pudding — choosing the Kurdish dish

• “Food is often the last vestige of a bygone era to survive” — Kurdish food as the final carrier of Kurdish identity in the diaspora

Quick Facts

Kurdish Name: Zalobiya / Zeloubiyeh / Zangula

Type: Fried yeast pastry — spirals or date-filled, soaked in syrup or served with jam

Kurdish Jewish Holidays: Hanukkah (fried in oil), Purim (served with sweets), Shavuot (dairy version)

Living Tradition: Shula Giladi teaches the recipe in the Galilee; Kurdish Cultural Center on Agripas Street, Jerusalem

Kurdish Food in the Jewish Diaspora

Kurdish Jews lived in Kurdistan for over two thousand years. When they emigrated to Israel in the mid-twentieth century, they brought their recipes with them. Kurdish Jewish Hanukkah in Israel features zeloubiyeh karmeyasa — yeast pastry filled with dates, fried in oil — alongside carrot fritters (because potatoes were not always available in Kurdistan, so carrots were substituted) and kubbeh dumplings in sour broth. Kurdish Jews in Kermanshah and Sanandaj made şilkena for Shavuot while the rest of Iran made rice pudding. They chose the Kurdish dish for their Jewish holiday — proof that Kurdish food identity was stronger than the national food culture they lived within.

In Jerusalem, Miriam — a sixth-generation Jerusalemite with Kurdish family roots — taught her daughter-in-law how to form kubbeh into torpedo shapes. The Jewish Food Society captured her recipe because she does not use measuring cups. In the Galilee, Shula Giladi teaches zalobiya and yaprax in culinary workshops, passing Kurdish cooking to new generations. On Agripas Street in Jerusalem, the Kurdish Cultural Center holds the memory of a community that once numbered over 150,000 in Kurdistan and now survives primarily through its food.

Conclusion

Zalobiya is not just a pastry. It is proof that Kurdish food survives displacement. Kurdish Jews left the mountains and the valleys and carried their zalobiya, their kubbeh, their şilkena, and their yaprax to a new country. Three generations later, a woman in the Galilee still teaches the recipe. A family in Jerusalem still shapes the kubbeh without measuring cups. The Forward wrote that “food is often the last vestige of a bygone era to survive.” For Kurdish Jews, Kurdish food is not a vestige. It is a living tradition — carried not in books but in hands, not in archives but in kitchens. Forty-five articles into this series, zalobiya proves the final point: Kurdish food does not need a state to survive. It needs a family. And the families are still cooking.