Kitchen Reflections

Our sitto, Basima, in her 40s.

We have such fond recollections of going to our grandparents’ house in Jeddah as children when we would be visiting Saudi Arabia from London. Apart from the joy of seeing our beloved sitto and jiddo, we would all be immensely excited for the meal that Basima, our sitto, would surely be cooking up. While we would typically sit in the living room spending time with our grandfather and uncles, chatting and playing games, we children remember taking turns to pop into the kitchen where Basima would be preparing nothing short of a feast. The smell alone of that kitchen was enough to send our curious noses into ecstatic anticipation.

But one of the things that sticks in our minds now, close to two decades on, is how easy and effortless she made everything look. Basima would be skilfully rolling vine leaves, stirring and adding ingredients into several pots at a time while attending to countless other time-consuming culinary tasks, with what looked like zero stress or hassle – except perhaps when she’d spot one of us enjoying a bit too many snacks and berate us not to get full before the main event. Cooking was second nature to her, and having the opportunity to prepare a wholesome delicious meal for her most loved ones meant she did it with even more ease and passion. We can never forget those joyful gleaming eyes and that sweet wide smile she would don from the moment she observed us taking our first mouthfuls.

In the kitchen. From right: Sitto (Basima), Jiddo, our grandfather, 5-year old Alia, Mona (our mother 💚)

It's only after we started to prepare these dishes for ourselves that we realised just how much work goes into them, and how legendary her cooking was. In our innocent young minds, we would just blissfully devour her meals without a second thought as to the diligence, time and effort she put in. Now that we have undertaken this culinary journey, whether cooking for a client or for ourselves, our thoughts often go to our beloved grandmother; we feel vast gratitude for every single minute spent in the kitchen, every dish or snack she so gracefully and happily made for us. And beyond that, the closeness and connection to her has endured and somehow intensified. Looking back, it is clear to see that what appeared to be a ‘simple’ task of cooking up a meal only seemed so ‘simple’ because of the pure love and devotion she did it with. 

In the living room. From left: Uncle Mashoor, Alia (on top), Sitto, Mohammed, Haleema

A night out in Beirut. From left, Jiddo, his sister Hamda, Sitto, and her younger sister Nawal.