Home cooking for me recites a story of emotions and memory. It connects us to a time and a place in the past. Memories of food are usually stimulated by memories of childhood.
Food memories feel so nostalgic, because the dish is not only associated with it's good taste, but also with our parents and grandparents and their homes.
These food memories become ever so heightened when we are displaced from home, and also when the people that created and nurtured these memories are no longer with us.
“Food is the primary defining factor of human identity, because what we eat is always a cultural product”
Some family recipes
I recently entered Amoul’s Goats Labneh into the Virtual Cheese Awards, and here is what the judges said.
And it continues!
This is the story of Amoul's since it's beginning back in 2003. Footage from the archive.
Keeping traditions alive
The recipes in the book are recipes handed down from generations of creative women. They tell a story of a simple way of life that is slowly fading with the passing of time.
These are recipes that stood the test of time and are still very relevant today.
This is a clip taken a few years ago by my son @ziadoakes @zop_filmhouse who wanted to document my story.
The question he asked me was: Why the labneh?
For me, everything I have ever done commercially has been rooted in memory, roots, culture and identity. It was never about commercial profit.
Making goat’s labneh takes me back to the days of mouneh at home, when all the women used to congregate at our house in Marjeyoun to help my mum prepare the labneh for the winter months — or what they used to call the “dead season.”
Goat’s milk was abundant in the mountainous regions around Marjeyoun, and so, to preserve it, the labneh was rolled into balls and placed in jars, then covered with olive oil, which was also abundant in our area.
The summer months in our home were dedicated to preparing the mouneh.
Towards the end of summer, when it was time to make the labneh, I would, as a four-year-old, choose a little corner of the house where I could not be bothered. I would prepare my little jars, fill them with oil, and then roll the labneh into little balls. I kept these jars to play shop.
Little did I know then that, one day, I would be doing exactly that for real.