Mum's Table

Mum’s Table…the Tale I go by the name of Abed, I was born in a small village in northern Syria. The village in question was bordering Turkey. The people of the village were very proud of their cuisine, food was an important part of their lifestyle – food went hand-in-hand with every aspect of life. Be it a joyful event ora sad one. Eating came first. The cuisine of our village had Turkish influences. As you can imagine, people competed with each other- gastronomically speaking. have tasted, aunts and uncle’s food, and that of my neighbor's and friend’s also. But the only dishes I can still taste and smell the aromas of were those of my mother’s. From the simplest to the complex, it was a labor of love for her and that came through in her dishes. To me it wasn’t just food, it was a dish of ‘ love and purity’. My dad passed away when was young, the only coping mechanism that got me over my loss was my mum’s food. To me, her dishes were simply ‘love’,