Latest news with #SamiTamimi
Express Tribune
10 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Express Tribune
Preserving Palestinian palates
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), has paid 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 US on July 15. "The whole idea started from the COVID-19 lockdown," recalls Tamimi when speaking to Reuters. "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 [...] It started with me just writing these recipes and, six months later, I had 300." In Boustany, the chef talks about his family and his past without going into politics – primarily because the book was already finalised by October 7, 2023. However, in conversation with Reuters, Tamimi turns his attention to weightier matters, such as 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. Erasure of Palestinian food "The thing that really winds me up is seeing so many Israeli restaurants opening in the UK and Europe and America that are basically selling our food in the name of Israeli new cuisine," he comments. "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." The chef explains that 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," he laments. However, when it comes to preserving Palestinian cuisine, Tamimi knows there is a long way to go. "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," he acknowledges. "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." Without Israeli occupation Tamimi explains that he knew he wanted to learn "other cuisines" from a young age, and it was only later that he realised how important the food of his homeland was to him after he moved to Tel Aviv. "But I didn't want to do traditional Palestinian food because, first of all, it takes hours to make," he recalls. "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." Later, however, Tamimi found a way through after experimentation. "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," he remarks. "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. Cooking ultimately became Tamimi's way of imagining a Palestinian cuisine unhindered by decades of displacement, destruction and occupation. "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," he says. Lingering guilt Younger Palestinians, it transpires, are far more receptive to Tamimi's endeavours than anyone else. "The older generation is probably more protective [of the original recipes] but the newer generation likes what I do," admits Tamimi. "I get it quite a lot from young Palestinians where they say some of the recipes that I do conveys the whole flavour 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." Amid the destruction of Gaza and the deteriorating situation in the West Bank, Tamimi feels the pressure of preserving of his Palestinian culinary heritage. "I'm doing my bit by introducing more and more people to the culture, to the food, to what happened there," he maintains. "Because I feel like the more we talk about it, the more we put it under the spotlight, the more positive things will happen." The guilt of being away from home, however, is something he struggles to ignore. "I feel I have a responsibility, but I also feel bad because I'm away from home," he rues. "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!"
Observer
15 hours ago
- General
- Observer
On Palestinian cooking and cultural preservation
The ongoing war in Gaza has destroyed much of its cultural heritage. But amidst 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 'Khubeze' that has helped many Gazans stave off hunger, is one of many native plants at the centre of Palestinian cuisine. Sami Tamimi, the acclaimed Palestinian chef who comprises half of the duo behind the popular Ottolenghi deli and restaurant empire, 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 US on July 15. Tamimi emphasised the importance of promoting and preserving the Palestinian people's rich culinary heritage — not only amidst the destruction of Gaza, but in the face of what he sees as the longstanding appropriation of traditional Palestinian dishes. 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? 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, amidst all the war, was getting slightly lost. The thing that really winds me up is seeing so many Israeli restaurants opening in the UK 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 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. FILE PHOTO: Palestinian-British chef, food-writer and restaurateur Sami Tamimi prepares a dish from his new cookbook during an interview with Reuters at his home in London, Britain, June 3, 2025. REUTERS/Toby Melville/File Photo Do you see the growing prominence of Palestinian cuisine as part of an effort to preserve Palestinian culture, or assert ownership? 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. 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 realised 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 for a few years and I started to combine bases of Palestinian food into new ingredients. It was fun because I could stay true to a dish but kind of elaborate on it and this became my style. Was your intention with your 2020 cookbook 'Falastin' 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. — Reuters
TimesLIVE
a day ago
- General
- TimesLIVE
Sami Tamimi on Palestinian cooking and cultural preservation amid the destruction in Gaza
The ongoing war in Gaza has destroyed much of its cultural heritage, but amid the rubble, one Palestinian staple endures: the common mallow plant. The spinach-like leaf, which forms the basis of a traditional stew called khubeze that has helped many Gazans stave off hunger, is one of many native plants at the centre of Palestinian cuisine. Sami Tamimi, the acclaimed Palestinian chef who comprises half the duo behind the popular Ottolenghi deli and restaurant empire (the other half is his fellow Jerusalemite and business partner, Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi), paid tribute to the culinary tradition of "farming and foraging and eating what is growing in your backyard" in his cookbook Boustany (My Garden in Arabic) which will be released in the US on July 15. The timing is poignant. In a recent conversation with Reuters, Tamimi emphasised 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.
RTÉ News
2 days ago
- Politics
- RTÉ News
Palestinian chef Sami Tamimi on spotlighting his culture
Chef and author Sami Tamimi says his mission is to "keep talking about Palestine", its food, culture and people. "It helps it not to disappear," says the 57-year-old, "as a Palestinian who has a voice, as a food writer, I feel that we must use all the tools we have to keep it alive." Palestinian food is "very important" to promote, he believes, "because we've been erased". Israel's military campaign since October 2023 has killed over 55,600 Palestinians, more than half of them women and children, according to Gaza's Health Ministry. This has displaced almost all the territory's residents, and caused a severe hunger crisis. It came after Hamas-led militants attacked Israel, killing 1,200 and taking about 250 hostages, according to Israeli allies. Read more here. "It's horrific, it's totally heartbreaking what's happening. I feel slightly helpless in a way," says the chef, well known for co-founding the Ottolenghi restaurant and deli group, and writing several books with Israeli chef Yotam Ottolenghi. He hopes the publication of his new cookbook, Boustany – translating to 'my garden' in Arabic, and focusing on vegetable dishes of Palestine and the dishes of his roots – will help in a small way to "bring some spotlight on the country, the food, the people and the place". Born and raised in Jerusalem (Israel has occupied East Jerusalem since the 1967 war, while Palestine claim the city as their capital), he says: "A big chunk of the Tamimi family in Palestine as based in Hebron [in the southern West Bank], my mum's side," he explains, and his grandparents' house was surrounded by a large 'boustan', a garden filled with fruits and vegetables that his grandmother meticulously tended to. Born in 1968, Tamimi says: "My parents didn't talk about what happened a year before. I didn't speak Hebrew until 16 or 17 because there was no interaction between Palestinians and Israelis in Jerusalem." He was one of seven, plus another five half-siblings from his father's second marriage, after his mother died in childbirth when he was just seven years old. Tamimi later lived in Tel Aviv for 12 years, working in restaurants, before moving to the UK in 1997 – "It was a bit weird for a Palestinian in Tel Aviv at the time," he notes. Tamimi happened to be visiting Jerusalem when the October 7 attacks occurred. "I was on a work trip, everything happened two nights after I arrived. I was stuck there for a few days, and I managed to [get] to the border to Jordan and get a flight back to London," he says, "I couldn't see my family, I had to leave because it was kind of unsafe." And so, 'The responsibility of writing these recipes and stories has weighed heavily on my shoulders,' he writes in the book. Food and shared meal times are an enormous part of Palestinian culture, he explains. Known for their warm hospitality and strong community bonds. "Palestinian homes are like doors open and people are welcome to [care]. Before mobile phones, people just show up, and it's really nice. [You] cook more than they need, because you never know if somebody's going to show up. You will always have to offer them food, even if they just come for a short visit. "Everyone's kind of invited." And although his father cooked too, "It's mainly females who cook in my culture, so I wasn't exposed to cooking as a child – I had to train myself and learn how to cook. "When I established myself as a chef, I realised that I wanted to cook Palestinian because it's really important to keep it alive first of all, and this is the food that I enjoyed eating as well and cooking. It's my culture, it's people, the place that I came from, it's my family, it's all of that." Like the Middle Eastern cuisines of surrounding Syria, Lebanon and Jordan, Palestinian food is "heavy on vegetables, grains, pulses, herbs, it's very connected to farming, to seasons, it's connected to the surroundings – people tend to forage quite a lot." "If you want to compare Lebanese to Palestinian cooking, Palestinian cooking is a bit more robust, and the flavouring is slightly more earthy." Grains and vegetables are transformed using ingredients including olive oil, garlic, lemon, sumac, zaatar, tahini, and different molasses, like grapes, dates and pomegranate. While sage, mallow, chicory, purslane, carob and cactus fruit are often foraged – a deeply traditional practice. While 'mooneh', translating to 'pantry' in Arabic, is the process of preserving seasonal goods, typically through drying and pickling. "Summer is quite hot there, so the season of vegetables and fruit is really short, so people find ways to preserve in the form of pickles, or nowadays they freeze quite a lot to keep things going for the rest of the year." Couscous fritters with preserved lemon yoghurt are based on a dish his mum used to cook – "Most recipes are based on memories" – and you're never too far from a dip in any Middle Eastern cuisine. Tamami transforms turnip tops by fermenting them for a creamy dip, and shows how to make green kishk, a fermented yoghurt and bulgar dip. Breakfasts are 'a treasured communal tradition,' he writes, and you'll still find the likes of olive oil, zaatar and tahini in the first meal of the day – "in almost every meal" in fact. Big plates are traditionally laid out and shared, and he celebrates that with recipes like aubergine and fava beans with eggs, or cardamom pancakes with tahini, halva and carob. And sweet dishes – making use of the available fruit (think apricot, orange and almond cake, and sumac roast plums – are eaten all through the day. He smiles: "I was lucky enough to grow up in Jerusalem where you can snack all day!"
Reuters
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Reuters
Sami Tamimi on Palestinian cooking and cultural preservation amid the destruction in Gaza
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!
