I’m Sarah, and I live in Asakusa.
I was raised in Kuwait by Egyptian parents.

It was here, in this city filled with whispers of history and the scent of home-cooked meals, that I first began to truly understand what "food" means.
I realized that eating isn’t just about filling an empty stomach.
It’s about love, comfort, and a moment steeped in the essence of who we are.

In the quiet rhythm of my everyday life, I began to see—
hidden within the folds of the ordinary were countless treasures.

My mother, a nurse, would wake at 4 AM.
She would first gather herself in stillness,
then move to the kitchen, arranging it with care before leaving for work.
And when she returned, tired yet unwavering,
she would still make every meal—breakfast, lunch, dinner—all by hand.
Eating out was never even a consideration.

On our plates lay the traditions of Egypt.
But there was more—flavors from Kuwait, whispers of India, echoes of the Arab world,
and traces of the West, quietly finding their place.

My mother’s kitchen was not merely Egyptian.
It carried the zest of Lebanon, the fragrance of Palestine, the vibrancy of Morocco.
Some nights, a French gratin would appear. Other times, an Italian pasta.
I learned, watching her hands move with a quiet devotion,
that food is not just sustenance—it is a language.
It speaks of where we come from, and more importantly, where we belong.

When I was sick, my mother’s soup was a cure beyond medicine.
She brewed a special herbal tea she called "the children’s tea,"
its warmth sinking into my bones, soothing both body and spirit.

The gentle steam of the soup, the delicate aroma rising from a teacup—
in them were my mother’s hands, her love, her stories.
Food is never just food.
It is the people who gather around it, the quiet memories that linger in its wake,
seeping into the heart like the glow of a fading sunset.

This is what I have come to understand.
And so, I want to share this feeling through cooking.
To create together, to eat together—
and in that fleeting, precious moment,
to leave a small, tender warmth in someone’s heart.