VOICE(V): Can you share a little about your family background?

 

Chef Izzeldin(I): I come from a family of Sufis. In 1616, my ancestors left a city in Uzbekistan and settled in Jerusalem to establish a Sufi center, where we have lived for around 400 years. They came to teach the Sufi order, and that tradition continued for generations. Over the past 100 years, we have lost most of our property. The center is no longer in operation, but we maintain a small museum preserving our family belongings and antiques. I still live in the Old City of Jerusalem.

My mother’s family fled Ramla to Gaza in 1948, where she and her siblings were born and raised. She later moved to Jerusalem after getting married. I did not grow up in Gaza, but we visited my mother’s family there every summer from 1985 to 2000. Over time, I witnessed the gradual tightening of restrictions - from taxis travelling directly to Gaza, to changing cars at checkpoints, and eventually to a complete closure of access.

 

V: How did Sacred Cuisine come about?

 

I: At 23, I left the Old City for the United States, where I lived for seven years. My cooking journey began there, driven by a deep craving for hummus and falafel. I searched for it, but was disappointed by what I found and eventually began making it myself. From the first time I cooked, I felt its meditative, deeply calming effect.

I quickly realized that many people had never tasted real hummus, and even more didn’t know its history or where it comes from. That made me think about how food appropriation and capitalism can strip food of its meaning, its nutritional value, and its cultural heritage. 

About ten years ago, I went back to Palestine and started Sacred Cuisine, focusing on Somi food - traditional dishes connected to the Christian season of Lent. I became interested in how this tradition shaped what was on the table, from falafel to everyday dishes. I am not vegetarian or vegan, but I focused on plant-based food to reflect the cultural significance of Somi cuisine.

 

V: What is your favourite memory around food?

 

I: There are many. One that stays with me comes from my childhood. When I was growing up, my friends and I would often hang out, and one of our favourite foods for breakfast or dinner was labneh. It is made from strained yogurt, where the whey is drained to create a thick, creamy, tangy texture. It is usually served with olive oil on top and eaten with bread, and we enjoyed it very much.

Labneh is even used as a term of appreciation. When something is especially good, you might say, “This is labneh.” When we like someone, we sometimes even call them labneh.

 

V: What is your soul food?

 

I: Hummus. I really enjoy it and can eat it at any time of day. Back home, it’s eaten for breakfast, not as a dip. You go to a hummus place and get a plate of hummus with olive oil, falafel, pickles, hot sauce, and pita bread. That’s the traditional way we eat it. Everyone has their favourite hummus place in the city.

 

V: In what ways has cooking changed or shaped you?

 

I: It has taught me how to navigate life and adopt a different philosophy. Before I started cooking, I was hyper and constantly seeking stimulation. Cooking made me more present and patient. It became a way to relax and disconnect from the outside world, almost like meditation for me.

When I work with an ingredient, I start observing its texture and reflecting on its different qualities. This, in turn, shapes how I see life, leading me to reflect more deeply and thoughtfully on it and on the duality that exists in our universe. A tomato, for example, is soft on the inside but tough on the skin. I pay attention to these kinds of details through my senses, and I continue to learn from cooking.

 

V: How do you select which dishes to serve on your food tour?

 

I: The menu selection is shaped partly by logistics and the time required for each venue, but I choose dishes that carry personal memory and meaning. Rummaniyeh, in particular, is not widely known even within Palestine, yet it reflects both Palestinian resilience and its culinary tradition. It originates from coastal historical Palestine - cities such as Jaffa, Ramla, and Lod. After the 1948 displacement, many refugees brought the recipe to Gaza City, where it remains a staple. Today, it is often described as a Gazan dish, but its roots are actually found throughout Palestine.

As a child, I remember eating it at my grandmother’s table in Gaza, and I still enjoy cooking it today.

The name “Rummaniyeh” comes from the Arabic word rumman, meaning pomegranate. Its character comes from the combination of lentils, eggplant, fresh dill, and the tang of pomegranate. It is also unusual in Palestinian cooking for requiring boiled eggplant, which is more often baked or fried. For me, it carries stories of survival, displacement, and an unbroken connection to land and produce.

 

V: How is the food culture in your homeland?

 

I: Food culture is changing everywhere, not only where I come from. Seasonal eating is becoming less common, shaped by both economic systems and political conditions. For example, when I was growing up in the Old City, we would go to Damascus Gate and see farmers selling their produce directly. Today, there are few, if any, farmers left there, as the area has become more regulated by municipal authorities.

In Palestine, these shifts have reduced access to traditional food systems. Those farmers once provided direct access to seasonal produce; as they disappeared, people became increasingly reliant on large-scale suppliers. As a result, it has become harder to eat seasonally and maintain traditional food practices. Conditions also vary by location: the West Bank still has relatively more access due to a stronger presence of local farmers, while in Gaza, access to food is extremely limited.

 

V: This is your first food tour in Canada. Why Canada?

 

I: Yes, I have spent about three and a half months here, mainly on the West Coast, before continuing on to Ontario and Quebec for the final part of the tour. I’m on a mission to travel to different countries and bring Palestinian food with me, so each place becomes a destination in that sense. I have a network of colleagues and friends around the world, and a Canadian friend, Kat Harris, is organizing my West Coast tour in BC. She had previously visited Palestine and spoke about my work within her community on the Sunshine Coast, which generated a lot of interest. Things developed from there.

 

V: How has Sacred Cuisine been received on Canada's West Coast?

 

I: My events have been received very, very well, more than I anticipated. It's been a beautiful experience to see people enjoying it, feeling touched, and gaining a deeper understanding of the food, the culture, and life in Palestine.

 

V: Were there any memorable moments or encounters from your BC tour that stayed with you?

 

I: Honestly, I've had so many beautiful events and amazing connections across different circumstances, each one touching and rewarding in its own way. It's hard to pick just one. But if I had to say, the event in Nelson was the biggest I've done, with about 280 guests. It was a special case because of the large number of people and helpers involved.

 

V: What country would you take Sacred Cuisine to next?

 

I: Peru. I would love to go there for its culture and culinary heritage, especially its unique fusion of Asian and Peruvian food, which I find fascinating. It’s not my next stop, but it’s one of the places I’m most excited to visit. My next stops, however, are Morocco and Ireland.

 

V: What does food mean to you?

 

I: It is a tool that helps you connect with and understand the land. When I walk through the streets, wherever I go, I always look for plants I can recognize as culinary herbs. The more herbs I know, the more connected I feel to a place, and the more aware I become of my surroundings. Yesterday, I spotted a plant called marshmallow. It is a green we would eat like spinach back home. Did you know that marshmallow candy originally came from medicine? The sap from its root is good for the throat. It was once boiled and mixed with egg white and sugar and given to children with sore throats. Fast forward to today, there is not even a trace of marshmallow root in the product anymore. This is something I often mention during food tours in the Old City - it is fascinating to see how food and ingredients have changed over time.