Mouthwatering summer recipes from the co-founder of Ottolenghi

Telegraph

14-06-2025

In the spring of 2020, my partner and I decided to take a break from the chaos of London. We packed up our house, loaded our two dogs into the car, and drove all the way to our place in Umbria, Italy. What was intended to be a brief few weeks' escape turned into an almost-year-long stay, impacted by Covid. During this time, I went through a period of self-reflection and a mini-meltdown, marking a pivotal moment in my career, after two decades spent managing the operations side of the Ottolenghi food and kitchens business.
The tranquillity of the Italian countryside provided the perfect backdrop for introspection and culinary experimentation. Cooking was my therapy – a way to navigate through my thoughts and emotions – and the concept of my new book Boustany was born. The recipes I developed, and share here, are a reflection of my roots.
Before 1948, Palestinian cuisine reflected the region's rich culinary heritage, showcasing a diverse array of flavours and ingredients. Since then, local food in Palestine has had a deep cultural and spiritual connection to the land and farming, manifested in its quality. Our diet almost entirely consists of organic food, or baladi, as we refer to it, fresh and grown locally.
The deep connection between the people and the land stems, at least in part, from the fact that farming has been, and still is, the main source of income for many Palestinians. Staple ingredients include olive oil, grains, legumes, dates, nuts, seeds and a wide variety of fresh fruits and vegetables.
Another source of food and income for some Palestinians has been foraging. It's influenced by Palestine's diverse landscapes, offering a variety of wild edibles. Foraging for food is an important part of the culture and cuisine, as it relies on seasonality and involves gathering wild food and medicinal items from the natural environment: herbs such as za'atar and sage, greens such as mallow (khobiza), chicory, purslane, gundelia (akub), dandelion, and also wild fruits such as carob, mulberry, cactus fruit (sabr) and hawthorn (zaerur). This is the way I grew up eating at home.
Spending time at my grandparents' house was one of the joys of my childhood. I have fond memories of running around their vast boustan, a garden, which my grandfather tended meticulously all year round. It was a cornucopia of fresh produce, from the crisp, juicy apples and pears in autumn to the stone fruit, leafy greens and tomatoes in spring and summer.
My grandfather took immense pride in his garden. He taught me the importance of patience and care in growing food. I vividly remember the delight of picking ripe fruits straight from the trees, and the satisfaction of eating vegetables that had been harvested just moments before.
Family gatherings at my grandparents' house were always a feast for the senses. My grandmother would use fresh produce from the garden and mooneh (pantry) to create wonderful meals. My mum and aunties were always eager to lend a hand with cooking, serving and cleaning up afterwards. These moments of togetherness, bonding over plates of delicious, homegrown food, were the best way to celebrate.
That is the beauty of the Palestinian kitchen, my childhood kitchen: the platters of steaming maftoul (couscous) topped with chunky aubergine or the fragrant lentil fatteh, which always tastes better the next day. These are the dishes I have known, loved, cooked and shared with friends. Now, I want to share them with you.