Knafeh Straight Off the Tray

Two hours, one dessert, at seven in the evening when the kitchen has finally cooled down. The work starts the night before, with akkawi cheese sitting in water that gets changed four times - nobody mentions that step, and skipping it gives you knafeh that tastes of brine. You do the rest: hand-shredding the kunafa dough, working ghee through it until your fingers are slick, pressing it into the tray, then pouring orange-blossom syrup over the top while it is still hissing. We make nabulsiyeh, the orange one with the cheese that pulls, not the ashta version. Everyone eats a piece straight off the tray standing up, because knafeh has a twenty-minute window and after that it is a warm cheese sandwich. Fair warning on two counts. This is a serious amount of sugar and ghee in one sitting, and we do not do a reduced-sugar version - it would not be knafeh. And there are six chairs in the kitchen and usually more people than that, so most of the session is spent on your feet, up three flights of stone stairs, past a cat who considers the second landing hers.