Luxor Cafe, After Dark

As we walk down Mount Auburn St., the hum and hustle of Harvard Yard quickly fades into the lull of suburban Cambridge, replete with quaint single-family homes. The streets are near empty on this frigid New England night. But as we walk through the doors of Luxor Cafe and — as if transported into the Ancient Egyptian metropolis whence it gets its name — we are met with a wave of warmth and sound.

Unlike other cafes or coffee shops around Cambridge, Luxor Cafe runs late hours for the month of Ramadan: the ninth month on the Islamic calendar, during which Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset. Though the cafe normally closes between 8 and 10 p.m., they are extending their hours until 2 a.m. on Fridays and Saturdays for the month of March.

People are crowded around tables, playing cards, Connect 4, Othello, and other games taken from a nearby communal shelf. One wall is decorated with Egyptian hieroglyphics, another with a span of Polaroids. No space is left unadorned, whether with plants, posters, or Egyptian decor. In the corner, a hint at the broader community: a Boston Iftar gathering and a QR code for mutual aid.

Even this late, the line turns around the corner, as dozens of 20-somethings (and one adorable two-month-old kitten) eagerly await a late night bite or drink. Every customer we talk to has heard about the cafe through word of mouth — from a friend, cousin, or community member. Some are coming straight from Isha, one of the five daily Islamic prayers.

Owais M. Aftab, the president of the American Muslim Medical Student Association, has come to Luxor and ordered a churro latte after finishing an inter-school Muslim Student Association event. He emphasizes the importance of cafes as community spaces: Islam prohibits alcohol consumption, so normal late-night spaces like bars or clubs aren’t as accessible. Cafes, in contrast, provide a welcoming space for accessible community-building.

“It’s definitely a huge faith component — we’re people, we want to socialize. So breaking bread with someone is huge. Having a drink with someone is huge,” Aftab says.

Most importantly, he emphasizes the value of having “third places,” where people can gather outside of home and work to socialize and find a community, regardless of their background. It’s especially important around Harvard, where student cafes — like Cafe Gato Rojo or the Barker Cafe — close early in the afternoon or evening.

“To be a holistic human being, you need to be strong in spirituality and professionalism and also just meeting new people,” he says. “That’s kind of what this setting really is.”

Luxor’s owner, Abdelrahman Hassan, seems to be the only one who’s not relaxed. He takes a minute between washing dishes and topping French toast to tell us about his vision for the cafe. He hopes Luxor Cafe and its late hours will help build more community throughout Greater Boston.

“In Egypt, the idea of a cafe is where you go to meet people,” he says. “That’s where all the community events happen.” Hassan says he hasn’t found those same social spaces in America.

In our pursuit of knowledge — but mostly because the dishes look irresistible — we happily order from the cafe’s menu before scrambling for a seat. The long wait is worthwhile: our buzzer activates, alerting us to a strawberry nutella crepe and the Ramadan “Pick your Platter” special — a tray bearing scrambled eggs, French toast topped with Dubai chocolate, and ful, an Egyptian bean stew somewhere between warm hummus and refried beans.

Like the cafe itself, the meal is grounded in American-Egyptian flavors. Of course, the restaurant also caters to modern trends. As new initiates to the Dubai chocolate cult, we marvel at the homemade pistachio butter and crispy kataifi condiment, even if the novelty has worn off for Hassan: “I’ve kinda had enough of it.”

Still, Hassan is grateful for the crowd in his cafe. “I couldn’t imagine this overwhelming support. It’s a lot of love and it’s a lot of people that come to support,” he says.

As we leave, the fresh air flushes our cheeks, while our ears still ring with the cacophony of the cafe’s conversations. It is nearly midnight, and the windchill is 15 degrees. It’s cold, but after our night amid the cafe’s community, the walk back doesn’t feel too long.