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Because of
my Iraqi
roots, I had favism as a child and couldn’t eat fava
beans. Now they’re one of my favorite foods. I soak them for
hours, cook them plain, and eat them while watching movies,
getting up again and again to refill my bowl. There’s something
soothing about their simplicity,
something that feels like reclaiming a part of myself I once had to avoid.
My greatest loves are meat and potatoes — French fries, roasted
potatoes, cold potato salad with hot pita, shishlik, kebab, arayes,
steak. These foods follow me through the day like old friends.
Sometimes I return to childhood memories with rice, lentils, and
garlic, or with the board games and children’s card games.
Games
— I still play (not only) when nostalgia calls.
Every Friday, for Shabbat, I buy the only green salad I truly love:
Fattoush. Often I bring home maqluba as well, and sometimes I just
have malawach or falafel. And when I eat shawarma, I enjoy it the
way I love most — with hummus, fresh parsley, and onions tucked
inside the pita. I never use salt or sugar, and my popcorn is always
pure. I rarely eat sweets, except for cherry tomatoes,
dates
or coconut ice cream —
my small, regular indulgence.
To afford good meat, I need my
Work
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