“…no one is born a great cook, one learns by doing.” – Julia Child

I’m Fez. Food and I have a long-standing love affair. Admittedly I have used a lot more of my time devouring dishes than I have spent preparing them.

Rewind to the early 2000’s with me centre stage as the child of Pakistani immigrants in Britain. I grew up on the sweet smell of tarka (spices and onions hitting the hot oil) surrounding me as soon as I entered the front door and where biryani was the perfect marriage between fragrant rice and intensely spiced masala. Evenings with bowls of daal and the world’s lightest roti were the simplest but most delicious staple in our house.

Fast forward to my early 20’s and I realize that when my mother is no longer around, all her precious recipes are gone too. So I’ve decided to learn how to cook. With hopes to inherit my mother’s hands and recreate the tastes of my favourite dishes myself.

Imagining mothers and daughters in the kitchen together may seem like a scene straight out of a 50’s TV show to many, but I think learning to cook from your loved ones isn’t an action to suppress women but provides the ultimate gift, independence.

Let’s start.