Hussain - Nadiyas family favourites: over 100 easy recipes for every kind of day

For the walls that shelter me from the wind.
To the roof that keeps the rain out.

You are my bricks and mortar:

Abdal, Musa, Dawud and Maryam

Food is such a simple word. A simple four-lettered word that can evoke every human emotion possible. For me, food is all about the people we love, and the family memories we make with them, the things we eat as vivid in our minds as the moments and milestones that inspire them.

Its the look on my sisters candlelit, hand-over-mouth face as I walked into a darkened room with a sticky-sweet fondant-covered cake that took five days to make. While I worried it may be dry on the inside, nobody else cared, because it was spectacular on the outside and was met with the type of reaction every celebration cake should warrant: excitement, shock, maybe even a little Oscar-worthy acting, the kind where she knew shed be getting a cake but pretended she wasnt expecting one, because that is what grown-ups do.

The sigh of satisfaction from my husband when I hand him a plate of wheat-crusted chicken at the end of a hard day clearing up the garage (a job he insists on doing on a weekly basis!). Showered, cleaned-up, lounge pants on, I sneak his dinner into our flounge (the fun lounge), followed by Cookie Dough Ice Cream for afters, which always goes down a treat If you dont tell the kids, then I wont. He eats, no words, just mmmms and aaaahs, till he reaches his last morsels and says, I could do that all over again, and yes, we are still on the subject of food. For him, every tiny plate of something delicious takes him to a wonderful place. He doesnt stay there long, but he knows he will be back again soon, since a mealtime is always around the corner.

The unsure face of my little man Moses (not so little any more!) back when he took his first mouthful of homemade Ginger Rice, as I came at him slowly with a neon plastic spoon and his eyes crossed till they could cross no more. That first taste of food as he wondered at the unfamiliar texture in his mouth. While we captured the moment in our minds, he pulled eagerly at my hand for more, his eyeballs playing tennis, from bowl to spoon and back again. Nothing has changed. He still eats everything cautiously, inspecting the texture and flavours, but almost always ending in a smile, to be met by my proud mummy face, and his curiosity satisfied.

My younger son, Mr David, declaring, Your cooking is yummy, Ma, but whats the point in eating when we could be playing video games and doodling? The line think of all the poor people out there who have no food never worked on him. His clear response: Well, we can give them my food then, and the battle lost! He eats when it suits him, but its a long slow process, and never as fast as his speedy comebacks. While he talks of everything but the food at our table, my mission is always to change his sceptical mind, success summed up by a hug from behind as he peers through the gap in my arms and mutters, Forget video games, that was much better.

Then theres my bafflement at my almost gender-balancing pink in the family, Mary Moo, so sure of herself at just seven years old. She has a particular way with food: she enjoys eating everything, but is very specific; she loves a cashew, but always salted. I like taste, she says. And never all at once. Like a bird, she picks all day: nuts, cheese, water, grapes, raisins. Literally the whole day her mouth can keep going, with strategically placed gaps to tell me where I am going wrong in life.

This is my family, and this book will give you a taste of the way we live our lives, with food for every kind of day. Its full of what we eat to keep us going through our weekly routine of every extracurricular activity known to man. These are the recipes that feed the five of us every day and a gang of many more for gatherings. For a family outing, well take our Samosa Pie and Chaat in a Bag for a picnic in the park. On manic weekdays, were more likely to be cramming Not Prawn Toast in the back of the car before swimming lessons. If its a wind-down weekend, youll find us relaxing at home in our lounge pants and cooking Sunday Lunch Our Way, and when weve got people to stay, I serve up a spread so large that even the dining table will not suffice, and we have to deploy the countertops, for my Special Beef Curry and Chapattis to start with, then plenty else to follow! Youll find all the recipes Ive mentioned and a lot more within these pages.

Food is not just the fuel that keeps us going, it isnt just a tick box, done! Food is one of the many things we take for granted, and because its always been there, we assume it will never go away. Food has been my comfort many times. Somehow a cup of tea and a slice of Orange Coffee Poke Cake really do make lifes troubles feel a little better, no matter how temporary the relief. Food gives us life, makes us smile, makes us weep, makes us feel emotions we did not think possible and best of all, it helps us make memories.

Food is such a simple word. But those simple four letters underpin so much: my four walls, my roof, my radiators, my loves, my laughter. Food, home, family: for me, all three go hand in hand.

Food is such a simple word. But those simple four letters underpin so much: my four walls, my roof, my radiators, my loves, my laughter.

The last thought in my head every night before I go to bed is what we might have for breakfast in the morning. As I leave the kitchen I do a quick final scan of the grounds. Freezer: frozen fruit. Fruit bowl: over-ripe mango. Cupboards: toasted coconut. Fridge: sausages. Basket: eggs. Then I head upstairs with my mind full of recipes: could I make Fattoush, Bircher, Vermicelli, Crpes, Shakshuka? I go to sleep happy in the knowledge that tomorrow I will win the breakfast game, because I know that whatever I make will be met with a triple, Thanks, Mum! Dad always just gives us cereal. One-nil to me! Breakfast is perhaps the speediest meal in our house, mainly because it has to be. We break our fast fast, in between packing PE kits and locating lost socks. It happens even quicker if I say the word crpes. (Im even trying to write it quietly shhh, they might hear!) But breakfast is also the meal that sets the troops up for a long day, so whatever we have, it must be delicious and filling, despite being rushed. They come home talking about their breakfast daydreams, and that, for me, makes it all worthwhile.

Most people dont own a waffle iron, and I avoid specialist equipment wherever I can. But that shouldnt stop us making waffles, so Ive found another way! These are savoury with a touch of sweetness, beautifully orange from the mashed sweet potatoes, and laced with dill and a kick of garlic. Its such a lovely recipe for the weekend, and even better when the kids get involved. Stick a frilly egg on top and its like heaven on a Saturday morning.