One of the best parts of Ramadan is the desert. For one month, sweet shops roll out their best varieties of creamy, nutty, cheesy delicacies. As each day progresses, the labor of Damascus' pastry chefs is piled on counters inside and tables outside their shops. They are typically mobbed in the last hour of the daily fast by men and children on errands to pick up the evening’s piece de resistance. They stay open late to satisfy any lingering sweet tooth. The other night, on my way home, I met Khaled, who offered me a Turkish cream-filled pastry called garbar. It was a gift, he said.