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!"