Sami Tamimi on Palestinian cooking and cultural preservation amid the destruction in Gaza

Reuters

2 days ago

The ongoing war in Gaza has destroyed much of its cultural heritage. But amid the rubble, at least one Palestinian staple endures: the common mallow plant.
This spinach-like leaf, which forms the basis of a traditional stew called 'Khobiza' that has helped many Gazans stave off hunger, is one of many native plants at the center of Palestinian cuisine.
Sami Tamimi, the acclaimed Palestinian chef who comprises half of the duo behind the popular Ottolenghi deli and restaurant empire (the other half is his fellow Jerusalemite and business partner, Israeli-British chef Yotam Ottolenghi), pays tribute to this culinary tradition of 'farming and foraging and eating what is growing in your backyard' in his forthcoming cookbook 'Boustany,' or 'My Garden' in Arabic, which will be released in the U.S. on July 15.
The timing is poignant. In a recent conversation with Reuters, Tamimi emphasized the importance of promoting and preserving the Palestinian people's rich culinary heritage — not only amid the destruction of Gaza, but in the face of what he sees as the longstanding appropriation of traditional Palestinian dishes.
Some Israeli culinary historians say that staples such as hummus, falafel and za'atar are as central to Middle Eastern Jewish cooking as they are to the Arab kitchen. While Tamimi acknowledges that some dishes are shared by different traditions, he argues that too often the Palestinian history is erased.
The following conversation has been edited for length and clarity.
Reuters: Palestinian cuisine has surged in popularity in recent years, in part because chefs like you have made it more accessible. What do you make of its rise?
Sami Tamimi: It wasn't deliberate. I just wanted to promote our food, the culture, the stories behind it, where it all comes from, the whole connection to the land — all which I felt, amid all the war, was getting slightly lost.
The thing that really winds me up is seeing so many Israeli restaurants opening in the U.K. and Europe and America that are basically selling our food in the name of Israeli new cuisine. What they do is take a dish and take it out of context. They don't have any backstory about where this dish comes from, what kind of tradition is behind it. It gets worse when they don't even bother to change the name of the dish.
So, maklouba [a traditional Palestinian dish of layered rice, meat and vegetables that is flipped before serving, earning its name meaning 'upside down' in Arabic] appears on menus as maklouba; mujadara [a popular Levantine dish of lentils, rice and crispy onions] is mujadara. I'm not saying all these dishes are Palestinian, but they have their own history and heritage and rituals, and claiming all of that … I find it so frustrating.
Food is as cultural as it is political in the Israeli-Palestinian context. Do you see the growing prominence of Palestinian cuisine as part of an effort to preserve Palestinian culture, or assert ownership?
Luckily, we have some really talented chefs that are pushing the boat towards preserving and putting our food under the limelight in a good way. But it took a long time because, coming out of trauma, people are focusing on other things to rebuild and preserve. Food was the last bit.
When did you first realize that you wanted to be a chef?
I was quite young. I went to work in a hotel in West Jerusalem where I was going to help clean the kitchen, and it opened this new world to me. When I told my family that I'm thinking about cooking, they all dismissed it. My father said, 'Are you crazy? This is a job for a woman!' It went on like this for so long.
My family owned a transport company. It used to be huge before the Second Intifada, [which] basically closed the whole thing. But my father kept driving a bus because he wanted to be out with people. Since you were born, if you're a boy, your family already has a plan for you, and I didn't fit in this plan because I wanted to do things my way.
So you were destined to be a bus driver! Were you always drawn to Palestinian food, specifically?
From a young age, I wanted to learn other cuisines. Later, when I moved to Tel Aviv, I realized that the food that was important to me is Palestinian food. But I didn't want to do traditional Palestinian food because, first of all, it takes hours to make. And there's no market for it. It sounds horrible, but when you do traditional food like this in a restaurant, it's a bit like peasant food. People don't appreciate it.
I worked in a Californian grill place in Tel Aviv for a few years and I started to combine bases of Palestinian food into new ingredients. And it worked. It was fun because I could stay true to a dish but kind of elaborate on it, and this became my style. I want to think that if Israel didn't occupy Palestine, Palestinian food would be evolving into something that I do today.
So, in a way, your cooking is imagining a Palestinian cuisine unhindered by decades of displacement, destruction and occupation?
Yes. I mean, people were kicked out of their country, people were losing their homes. In that situation you just stop and think, what are the things I can hold onto? And food was one of them.
How have other Palestinians responded to your work?
The older generation is probably more protective [of the original recipes] but the newer generation likes what I do. I get it quite a lot from young Palestinians where they say some of the recipes that I do conveys the whole flavor of what their mom cooks, but it takes a quarter of the time. I think the older generation will probably laugh at me. What mess are you making with our food! But the newer generation are accepting it.
Going back to the culinary fight over ownership — you've talked about the importance of giving context to Palestinian dishes. Was your intention with your 2020 cookbook 'Falastin' (the Arabic word for 'Palestine') to provide that backstory?
With 'Falastin', I wanted to give thanks. I've been cooking for so many years and borrowing dishes from our repertoire as a Palestinian, and I wanted to stop and say thank you.
In the '90s, we had a lot of books that talked about Mediterranean food and Middle Eastern food, and it's a vast chunk of the world. Nowadays, the focus is really about a certain place and its culture and the food. It's a wonderful way to convey a lot of what I wanted to say about modern-day Palestine. What I wanted to achieve from it was to interview real people that really inspire me and who I thought will inspire other people.
How does 'Boustany' differ from 'Falastin'? Apart from it being your first solo cookbook, it's comprised of vegetarian recipes, right?
Vegan and vegetarian. The whole idea started from the COVID-19 lockdown. When you're in a situation like lockdown, you really get homesick because you want to be with your family and eat the food that brings you comfort. I wanted, in a way, to transport myself to being with my family back home. But because I couldn't, I started cooking simple dishes like Khubeze. It started with me just writing these recipes and, six months later, I had 300.
And 'Boustany' is a little bit more personal: I talk about myself and the family and the past. I didn't go so much into politics. When Oct. 7 happened, I was already finalizing everything. It's so valid at the moment to talk about what's happening, but I promised the publisher to do a slightly lighter weight book.
Amid the destruction of Gaza and the deteriorating situation in the West Bank, do you feel pressure to ensure the preservation of Palestinian culinary heritage now?
Definitely. As a Palestinian, seeing everything that's happened, I'm doing my bit by introducing more and more people to the culture, to the food, to what happened there. Because I feel like the more we talk about it, the more we put it under the spotlight, the more positive things will happen.
I feel I have a responsibility, but I also feel bad because I'm away from home. It's a price that I have to pay because if I was back in Jerusalem, I would never be where I am today because of its limitations. I'd probably be driving a bus!