Heifa Odeh - Dine in Palestine: An Authentic Taste of Palestine in 60 Recipes from My Family to Your Table

HEIFA ODEH

creator of Fufu's Kitchen
Photography by Doaa Elkady

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To my roots

MY JOURNEY

I've always been proud of my Palestinian identity. Even though I did not grow up in Palestine, it has always felt like home to me. It's a feeling I wish I could describe to you. A sense of belonging comes to mind when I think of my summers spent in beautiful Falasteen. Despite loving school, I always looked forward to summer breaks when we reunited with our family overseas, where a large majority of our extended family resided. There would be lots of hugs, kisses, smiles and food. Traditional Palestinian dishes like the beloved were cooked from the heart for us to enjoy. I remember the food tasting so much better than I was used to. The olive oil was so fresh that it would burn the back of your throat. Bread would be made daily on the taboon as the perfect addition to each meal. My uncle, who is a butcher, had a coop, so the chicken and eggs were always the best quality. It's no wonder I loved eating at their home. Or maybe it was how we all sat knee to knee on the floor on mattresses enjoying our meals family style. I wasn't used to that but I loved it. You see, food has always brought people together in my family. When we were visiting, every dayI kid you notwe would be invited by a different member in the village for either breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert or just coffee and tea. It's the norm and speaks to the generosity and yearning for community that Palestinians have.

Palestinians are very generous people. They would quite literally give you the shirts off their backs. They come from humble beginnings and have seen their share of hardships living under occupation. But their resilience? Their resilience astonishes me. Despite their living situation, they go on with their lives and are appreciative of what they have. I'm always taught a life lesson or two when I visit. I have many memories from my time there: riding my grandfather's camel, going to the dukkan (neighborhood convenience store) daily and sitting on the baranda with my grandmother enjoying figs at dawn.

My parents are both from the same village in Palestine and are very proud of their heritage. That pride was instilled in their children. From a young age, I was enrolled in Sunday Arabic school to learn the language. It was the best gift my parents could've given me. Knowing how to read, write and speak in Arabic has given me a deeper connection to and understanding of my ethnicity. We also grew up enjoying a homemade Palestinian meal that was cooked daily by my mom. It was typical for us to have his specialty.

Over the years, I understood and admired the significance of food and feeding others.

I started shadowing my mom in the kitchen in my early teens. My mom is an amazing cook; she is the eldest of six and the only girl in her immediate family. I could only imagine the responsibility she took on, and I can't help but believe it's one of the reasons she is so remarkable in the kitchen. Whether she knows it or not, she taught me so much of what I know. I would see that spark in her eyes when guests would tell her that the spread tasted just like it does back home and would lean in for seconds.

I have always loved creating and enjoying food. My first job was at a local bakery, where I stayed for ten years just because I loved it so much. But it wasn't until my mid-twenties, when I got married and moved miles and miles away from my family, that I truly realized how important it was to preserve the food I grew up eating. The days I was homesick, which were many, I would call my mom and ask her how to make and countless other dishes. I would quite literally stay on the phone for hours making these nostalgic meals with my mother's guidance. And if you know one thing about immigrant parents, it's that they never measure. Almost all of their cooking is done by using their senses. So, making these meals took some trial and error until they were perfected and reminiscent of home. To preserve my roots, I started to document these Palestinian recipes on a blog that I named Fufu's Kitchen after my childhood nickname, Fufu. It was my husband's fabulous idea to do so. Fast-forward two years down the line and it would become an award-winning blog, something I never thought would happen when I started. I've committed myself to this beautiful, vibrant cuisine. The aroma of cinnamon and allspice fills our home. The tank of olive oil, jars of tahini, za'atar and molasses fill my pantry. Fresh herbs, yogurt, garlic, onions and lemon are always stocked in my refrigerator.

I can't begin to explain the excitement I feel when I am in the kitchen, my element, preparing these nostalgic meals for my friends and family. It thrills me. Just like my mom, I am almost always thinking about the next meal I'll be making, as it brings true joy to me.

This book is a means of shining light on Palestinian cuisine's beauty and preserving it for you all to enjoy. This is me sharing a part of history and Palestinian identity, which I hold dear to my heart. Some dishes are inspired by the flavors of Palestine, while others are truly authentic recipes that have been passed down for generations. I am so humbled to be able to share a piece of me with younot just my cooking, but my roots.

Ask me what my favorite meal is and I will tell you Sunday breakfast, but not just any breakfasta feast of a traditional Palestinian breakfast. My parents would make it special every time. I have so many beautiful memories in the kitchen with my family making these dishes that are a huge part of our cuisine. I looked forward to Sundays not only for the spectacular food, but also for the time spent learning more about my heritage and bonding with my parents.

My father, an avid gardener and lover of food, could be found making his . Everything was a savory harmony of good eats.