Avoiding a Recipe for Disaster

I left Beirut for London in 2011. Alongside my clothes, books, and some personal belongings, I had a notebook in which my mama wrote the recipes to some of my favorite dishes. Growing up, I always accompanied her in the kitchen. I’d help chop the vegetables and clean the dishes. A sous-chef of sorts. I observed how she prepared food, but never got the chance to partake in the making process. I didn’t have the know-how, so the notebook remained untouched for the many years that followed.