Lucy: This is Lecker.
I'm Lucy Dearlove.
This is July's installment of the Lecker book club.
Each month an episode highlights a recent food related publication
through an interview with the person responsible for writing it.
This one is a little bit different though.
Firstly, because this book isn't technically fully recently published.
London Feeds Itself was first published back in September 22, a
collaboration between Vittles founder and co editor Jonathan Nunn and the
architectural charity Open City.
Through 25 essays by different writers, including Jeremy Corbyn on
his allotment and Claudia Roden on Hampstead Garden suburb, threaded
together by notes on restaurants, areas and communities by Jonathan.
He explores eating and cooking and being fed and feeding within the city.
The first edition, with its striking purple cover, library book esque
perspex dust cover, and pull out poster of a huge, beautiful collage
map of London by Anna Hodgson and Harry Derby, sold out almost immediately.
But anyone who missed out would have been happy to hear the news of version 2.
0, published in collaboration with Fitzcarraldo in March this year,
with a new cover and two new essays.
The idea of centering the architecture of London's spaces for eating and
cooking is unusual in food writing, restaurant writing in particular,
where food and stories from the table can exist nakedly on the plate.
Divorced of any physical or emotional context.
Instead, London Feeds Itself embeds eating as part of the city's physical
culture, and so expresses without ambiguity how the politics, geography
and economics of life affect what we eat and those who produce and cook it for us.
As the back cover of the first edition put it, this book shows that the true centres
of London food culture can be found in ever more creative uses of space, eked
out by the people who make up the city.
This is particularly evident in Melek Erdal's essay, The Warehouse.
Hidden people, hidden spaces, it begins.
In it, Melek, a Kurdish chef, writer and storyteller, Born in Istanbul and
who moved with her parents to London as a child, describes the physical
shock of the experience she had accidentally going back to one of the
northeast London warehouses where her parents worked in textile factories.
Melek: It felt so surreal sitting there and I think I felt
even more resentful about it.
having a flapjack when I knew the incredible meals that happened in that
space, in that secret space, you know?
Lucy: Honestly, I've wanted to interview Melek for ages, having
loved her writing for a long time.
Her poetic, meandering recipe column in Vittles is something I
drop everything to read every time.
And so I jumped at the chance to have breakfast at her house and
talk about her London Feeds Itself essay, and also more broadly about
London and about Kurdish food.
Melek: There's absolutely no way you're coming to, like, to my home
and not being fed, that's like, absolutely ridiculous and rude.
You're coming to my home for the first time, and you've schlepped
all the way from, like, not even Lewisham, like, further away from
that, actually, when we think about it.
Lucy: Yeah, I mean, technically, but, you know, I'm glad to be here.
Melek: Of course I'm going to feed you, of course.
Right,
regular tea?
Lucy: Yes, please.
Like, Fiji tea?
You're welcome.
Pidgey tips.
What was that?
Pidgey tips?
Yeah, great.
Perfect.
Melek: Great.
So, I went to Green Lanes, you know, my favourite, uh, street.
I love going there for like, me time on the weekend.
So I have like these favourite grocers for different things.
So like, every grocer, uh, has something that I love.
So there's Doslar Supermarket.
They get like their spring onions from allotments and their cucumbers.
So I go there for that.
Lucy: Cucumbers as well.
Yeah, yeah.
Cucumbers are your thing.
They're my thing.
Melek: Yeah.
Like what I call regular size cucumbers, but what you like in the UK might not, you
in the UK, I'm from the UK, but here in the UK you might consider mini cucumbers.
For me, It's regular.
They're normal cucumbers.
Because it's so weird to get one giant cucumber.
It's so weird.
You don't get one massive.
You get loads of like regular sized cucumber, which tastes more amazing.
I was gonna say,
Lucy: they have more flavor, don't they, those little
Melek: ones?
They do.
They have more flavor.
You can just eat it without peeling it, like, you know, just, just grab it and go.
It's a very, very Kurdish thing.
Iranians love it too.
Often, it's those sized cucumbers are called.
Iranian cucumbers for
Music: some reason.
Melek: But yeah, so I got, uh, cucumbers and spring onions from there, and
then I got rocket from Hello Haringey.
Nice.
And then I went to Yashan Halim, which is like the old, like the
longest running grocer in Greenlands.
They're a Turkish Cypriot place, and I got some tomatoes and some black olives from
there, and I got this special bread called Saman bread, which I'm gonna show you.
So basically I wanted to do a traditional breakfast that's just loads
of little fresh bits that you pick and you make your own like, sandwiches.
I'm so excited!
Yeah.
Lucy: So what's this?
Melek: Oh, so this is sivribiber or külbiber.
So It's green pepper that is really long and thin and kulbubar means hair pepper.
So it's like, like strands of hair, yeah, like thin like strands of hair.
And
Lucy: they're so beautiful, aren't
Melek: they?
And I find that they've got a lot more flavor in them and you don't have to de
seed or anything because you can't anyway.
So much like, I would say they're much like a padron pepper in flavor,
where they're not too fleshy.
But they just pack so much flavor, and they're sweet, they're not, um, too long.
And these are great fried as well, or in food.
But I'm literally going to wash this fresh rocket, these savoury
pepper cucumbers, and I'm just going to slice, drizzle with olive oil,
salt, Have good bread, feta cheese, olives, and good tea, and that's it.
Oh, oh, I forgot about the gözleme.
I got gözleme from the best place to have gözleme, which is Hala.
Yes!
Yeah, yeah,
Lucy: I've been to the restaurant, but not to Yeah, yeah, Hala,
Melek: the aunties, well, Hala means auntie, and the aunties at Hala make
the best, because they're not greasy.
I find that a lot of places over grease, um, Mm.
These are great.
So yeah, I'm just gonna wash these and we can, yeah, get going.
Brilliant.
Come smell the rocket.
Like, the minute the water hits you can smell it.
Can you smell it?
Right?
This is like my, this is proper rocket.
Lucy: So, how long have you been going to Green Lanes to shop?
Melek: Since I've, since I've been in this, um, country since I was four.
Well, when I say since I was four, like when I asked my mum about
what was available, like, from our regions back then, it was very, very,
Yashar HaLim was the only place.
Oh, wow.
So, Yashar HaLim.
the Turkish Cypriot place because there was a migration of Turkish
Cypriots way before like mainland Turkey or Kurds or, um, political
exile, like, you know, happened.
So Turkish Cypriots I think came, there was a wave that came in the
50s and 60s, so as far as back then, some even have earlier heritage.
So the kebab shops, the first kebab shops, like in London, I think were
Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot.
And then yeah, and Yashar Hailem was the first grocer that we could go to
and find things we recognized, you know.
And
Lucy: that's, that's so important, isn't it?
When you arrive somewhere and everything's unfamiliar.
Melek: It's, I mean, it becomes an event, like the whole community will very quickly
find out where something is, you know.
It's like, they've got salto, which is sun dried tomato and pepper paste,
which is basically the base of all foods, you know, from our Eden.
It's like, so integral to all of our soups and stews.
So I remember those firsts, there were so many firsts in those times, like,
and communication was really important.
So one person discovering something, And letting everyone know, so everyone,
but even if it's a bad thing, like, oh, don't do this, it's against the
rules in this country to do that.
A weird
Lucy: unspoken
Melek: thing that, yeah.
Yeah, you'll end up in prison, like Uncle Suleiman ended up in prison
for that, don't do that, you know.
It was like this pre mobile phones, but people were so interconnected,
we did everything together.
And food was at the heart of that, you ate communally.
So.
And then once we started opening up our own businesses, they were food
businesses, and it was because, you know, there wasn't space to do other
jobs when you first moved here.
It didn't matter if you were an engineer in Turkey, you couldn't be that here.
So food businesses became the thing that, you know, was our entry into this
country before we had a grasp of the language, before we had a grasp of the
rules, and also it was a Perfect business because also it meant we got to the food.
Yeah, we were familiar with you know, yeah Yeah, so I'm cutting up some
a packet of that backpack or black
Lucy: olives lovely Yeah,
Melek: so these are traditional to have for breakfast.
Lucy: Okay, and
Melek: they're not in A jar or in brine, so they're not, uh, sour.
So that's the
Lucy: difference.
That's
Melek: the difference.
They're just in, they're oily there, but they're not actually soaked in olive oil.
They're just backpacked, so it's their own oil around them.
If you have nothing for a traditional breakfast, you have tea, you have
strong black tea, you have olives and feta cheese and bread and that's it.
And that would be your, that's our croissant in the morning.
I love what a breakfast says about.
a country or a people, because everywhere in the world, I'm so,
I'm always so curious, what is the breakfast culture in a place?
Lucy: Me too, yeah.
Right?
Yeah.
Isn't
Melek: that amazing?
Like, it's so, so interesting.
Yeah.
But then like, yeah, cause when you actually, when you go to a
place like Spain where they eat really late, like they'll, right,
their evening meal is what?
10, 11?
10,
Lucy: yeah, at least.
It's like,
Melek: what?
My, my temperament could not, constitution could not handle.
Lucy: Yeah.
Melek: I don't know if that's, The Britishness in me now.
Like, because I don't know how it is, like, at home.
I don't think they eat late either, because rurally it
wouldn't make sense, because you
Lucy: Yeah.
In
Melek: rural regions you You've got
Lucy: to get up early, so Yeah, you've
Melek: got to get up early, and also it's not practical with, like, you
know, sun, sunset and everything.
Lucy: Yeah.
That's so interesting though, and that must be, like, a tricky thing to
navigate, like, being part of two places.
And being like, which is, what, from where?
Melek: It's the challenge of my entire existence, Lucy,
like that's Like, I don't know.
It's like, I'm, it's, it's going to be the thing, uh, that I
battle with, like, my entire life.
Like, it's a constant, like, where does this sit?
Where do I sit in this?
And my understanding, my sense of self, it's, it's, it's, you know,
you come into terms of your identity.
And it, I think that's a question for everyone constantly, right?
But I think it just becomes more nuanced and complicated when you're
not from one, one place, or maybe you're not even from any place.
That's what, like, I think, that's what I kind of had to come to realize, that
I'm not, It's like, being from somewhere is quite an abstract thing for me because
whilst I was born in Turkey, Istanbul was not, like, I was born in Istanbul,
that's not where my family were from.
They were uprooted from their rural lives, moved to Istanbul, and, and
also, you know, we, we, we were kind of secondary as citizens from, because of our
Kurdishness and also our Alevi culture.
So you had that as well, where your language.
You already don't have the language, your mother tongue, and then you move here
and then you, you're like another step away from that mother tongue, because now
Music: you
Melek: have to figure out English when you, like parents were
figuring out Turkish, so no one speaks anything in English.
particularly well.
So actually, language isn't the superior, most superior form of communication.
That's why food is, because it's kind of, it can't be
misinterpreted as easily, right?
Lucy: Yeah, that's such, like, that's kind of like a heart
stopping way to put it, like that.
Actually, I think we, I think maybe in this country there is a kind of
like understanding of Language and specifically like often written language
as being like the highest form of that's the official communication.
Nothing else really matters unless it's Expressed in words in that way, but
that's such a beautiful way of putting it And like the idea of yeah lived
experience and the things that you make for each other to eat being more important
Melek: Yeah, I mean written language is never being a superior
form of communication, I think, in our culture and our people.
And I write about that in my, like, Vittles columns a lot.
Like, I think the whole premise of the Vittles column came about because,
you know, of this conversation of, for us, food being a superior form of
language and then it actually being the vessel with which I Grasp, like
I could hold on to parts of Kurdish language, a language I don't know.
Yeah.
By having the idea of food being a conduit to trace back to your roots and
being able to do that with a word too.
So I pick a word that I really like because I get to like words
because I don't know Kurdish I get to look at it from the outside and
go, Oh, I really like that word and really explore it like it's new.
And so I pick a word.
I write about the etymology of the word and the roots and what it means.
And I love that there's no direct little translation for a word because it's
so much from the earth it comes from.
much like food is, right?
Produce is.
So I love like aligning the two and kind of weaving them into each other
and then just coming up with a recipe.
And it's been my way of, again, like coming to terms with
what my identity means to me.
And, and now I'm in a place where I think it's exciting that I'm this,
like, would vagrant be the right word?
I
Lucy: think it's a nice, yeah, I feel like maybe it has a derogatory connotation.
Doesn't it?
Does
Melek: it?
But
Lucy: I think that's probably a reflection on us.
Right.
The people that have decided that it's negative to move around.
Yeah.
And have no fixed sense of home.
Yeah,
Melek: so it's like, although I have a very fixed sense of, I'm from London.
Yeah.
I don't have a fixed sense of, like, what that means.
Yeah.
And.
It just means that you, you're just resourceful.
I feel like it's just, it means I'm resourceful and just throw
whatever at me, I'll, I'll make it, like, I'll root it in something.
Lucy: Yeah.
I love how you approach your columns so much because I think so much.
A food writing is about authority and being like an expert on something and I
think there's absolutely room for that.
I think there are some, I think there are some writers that do it badly,
but I think there are some writers that do it really beautifully.
But I also think there's so much space to like sit between things
and be like, you know, I don't know, but this is how I feel.
Melek: Right?
And I get to, yeah, like, I love that, because how can anyone be the, I find
it all so absurd, like, assuming you're, you have authority on anything in life.
Yeah, I agree, yeah, I totally agree.
And so, like, anything in life, so, I How could you have the audacity?
Yeah, I love that word, actually, because I think immigrant energy, as I call it,
is, like, Like having the audacity to exist, having the audacity to, to try to
speak English and like, do it confidently and just be creative and resourceful.
And when it comes to authority, that is just like authority over anything.
I think it's, we learned, you know, we've had to learn quickly that
it's absurd and it's corrupt often.
And so just to be able to.
Move around and be flexible with it.
I think of the first interview actually before I had the column
like Jonathan the editor of it tools Reached out wanted to do an interview
and we actually did the interview on Green Lanes In the Albuquerque
restaurant, and he said he asked me at the end I think towards the end of
the interview, what is Kurdish food?
He asked me, and I said, it's anything I make.
Right.
It's anything I make, because I'm Kurdish, so it's Kurdish food.
And I had, I guess I had the audacity to say, I had to have the audacity to
say that, because who else would give me that right or that authority otherwise?
No one.
If I gave my authority and my autonomy to someone else, They would say I have
no right over anything because I don't have a, an official place I'm from.
So I have to grab that authority and that autonomy and that audacity to
say, well, it's whatever I cook, mate.
Lucy: So you talked about when you started going to Green Lanes and you
said that there were loads of firsts.
Melek: Yes.
Lucy: And I wondered if there were any other like notable firsts
that you wanted to talk about?
Melek: Absolutely.
My, my first first in London, like my, my first My earliest
very distinctive food memory, I would say, is, I think I was five.
So, we came here when I was four.
I think I was five and my parents, um, were visiting a
friend who had a calf in Archway.
I just remember being a kid being taken around places all the time, right?
The things adults needed to do.
So, it was like not a childhood of like, What children wanted necessarily,
it's just like, yeah, they were figuring out work and where to live
and all this, like trying to figure, so it's all by, like, word of mouth.
You hear someone's got a job somewhere and you go, and I remember, like,
all my early memories of London when we first arrived was, like, grey.
Harshness, everything felt harsh, like people felt harsh and every,
because it was so unfamiliar and our massive family wasn't around us.
So it felt cold and harsh in loads of ways and grey, like the colour feeling grey.
And then so we went to this caf and so we were sitting at the table and mum and dad
were talking to this guy who ran the caf.
And on the table I saw this bright yellow jar.
And Of, like, English mustard.
And I was so curious, because it was so bright and so yellow
in this, like, grey place.
You know, like, what felt, it was the brightest thing.
I, like, it was so, I was like, and it's on the table, and it's on all the tables.
And I just remember the adults speaking and thinking, Okay, no, you can't, you
can't touch it, you can't touch it.
They'll notice, they'll see you.
And I'm thinking, No, but I'm so cu what is it?
What is it?
And then as they were talking I grabbed it and I opened it and it
just was like a punch in the face.
It was so abusive.
It was so violent and I was like, this is England.
Now I absolutely love it.
Like I mix it with yogurt and lemon and olive oil and make it into And so it's
like It's actually a story of how I have become more British and the UK has
become more Kurdish for me, like yogurt, the most significant, the most Kurdish
thing possible, meeting mustard and it working and it being delicious together.
But that was my first meeting of mustard and it wasn't friendly.
It is
Lucy: really abusive.
It is, too, because
Melek: It's not like horseradish does, right?
It's got that same quality.
And now I'm like, please put mustard in my burger.
Please put it, you know, in my bagel.
I love the intensity of it.
I love it so much.
I love the color.
I like, Mustard yellow.
Lucy: Yeah.
Melek: Tablecloth.
Oh my
Lucy: God.
Oh
Melek: my gosh.
Wow.
This is dramatic.
This is England.
Yeah.
I upset the English clouds.
Literally a rural breakfast is you're just tearing things, right?
Just placing them on a plate and you leaving it to you to just construct
however you want to eat it, right?
So it's literally, you don't do much to it at all.
So I'm cutting off the roots from the rocket and the spring onion and I'm just
going to place it on the plate like that.
People might be shocked by like having whole spring onion for breakfast.
Lucy: No I love it.
Melek: for the support.
So with these I'm just gonna, with the peppers because they're
quite, you just slice them.
Down the middle.
And you wouldn't use a chopping board.
So, you don't, that's, you don't intervene any more than what you
can do with a knife in your hands.
So, nothing that requires a chopping board.
Lucy: I love that, you don't intervene with the produce.
No.
You just let it be.
Melek: Let it be, if it's good.
You can let it be.
And look how gorgeous this tomato is.
Lucy: That's beautiful.
Melek: Dad, my dad would just tear this tomato.
He wouldn't, he wouldn't cut it.
He'd be like, what are you doing?
I'm trying to be a little more civilized.
Right.
Lucy: That is the most beautiful plate.
Melek: I'm going to sprinkle some olive oil, some lemon juice
and salt on it in a minute.
I'm just going to plate up some olives and feta cheese for us as well.
I'm going to cut this bread up and just cut some gozleme up.
So let's take these to the table.
Oh, let me drizzle it in olive oil actually.
Yeah, a bit of olive oil on this and then I'm gonna actually put some black pepper
and can you pass me the Aleppo chili?
Absolutely.
It's um, that one, yeah, that one.
So there's two different types.
That one is a chunkier flake, and this, this one is, um,
finer, um, and slightly spicier.
But I feel like you can handle it, I just sense that you can.
I'm honoured.
A bit of sumac on the cucumber as well.
Lucy: Ooh, yes!
Melek: Ooh, I needed to boil some eggs, what's wrong with me?
Lucy: What's wrong with you?
Shall I put these on the table?
Yes,
Melek: please.
So when we first arrived, we stayed for six months in my with my uncle
who was in Edmonton, Enfield area.
And then we got given a house, temporary housing in Muswell
Music: Hill.
Melek: So that was very north as well.
And then, yeah, we got moved to Stamford Hill in, in Hackney, which is like kind
of northeast, like the, the kind of edge of Hackney near Tottenham where I am now.
So I've always grown up here, you know, Stoke Newton, Dawson, all the
Kurdish and Turkish community areas.
Yeah.
It's.
been where I always am.
Yeah.
Lucy: And it's an area that's changed a lot, right?
Melek: It has.
It has changed a lot, but I feel like it stayed the same in a lot of ways
as well because of the resilience.
of the Kurdish and Turkish community that I know
Music: where
Melek: they're always adapting.
So they've not, we've not disappeared.
We've not drifted anywhere.
We've just changed with the changing tides because there is such an
entrepreneurial spirit in our community.
So it's like, Oh, uh, you want a barista now?
Okay.
We'll be the best barista you've ever seen.
We know how to grow a beard, a very perfectly cropped beard,
and wear a trendy t shirt.
We know how to, like, we'll, okay, we'll turn everything into
organic wood, like, in our spaces.
We're on it.
We'll, we'll, we'll start organic, uh, grocers, if you want.
You don't need to go to Whole Foods, we've got Harvest.
Right?
And like, there's that ingenuity, there's that tenacity.
We've got that survival instinct, and I think so, in a lot of ways, community
has stayed the same, as well, as it managed to survive and stay the same.
Lucy: I feel like some of that ingenuity that you're talking about, I feel like
some of that is, at least some of it is, sort of goes uncredited, right?
And I feel like this is something you wrote about in the London Feeds Itself
essay, sort of, in that you talked about how the kind of community that
you and your parents, existed in when you first came to England and how
people in those communities went on to start, like, incredibly successful,
often food related businesses.
But it's almost like people kind of go to those restaurants and talk about
them and like, name drop them, but they don't necessarily understand the
origin or the context, like, I feel like that was maybe something you were
getting at in, like, people who go to, like, Mangle 1, Mangle 2, or whatever.
Yeah.
There's maybe like a bit of the story missing.
Do you feel like that's
Melek: true?
Yeah, yeah, I do feel like the story's, uh, story's missing, and actually the
essay came about because of that first interview with Jonathan, where he knew
I was feeling like The Kurdish community specifically was invisible in talking
about these restaurants that are great, but them being referred to as Turkish
restaurants when they're Kurdish owned.
The owners are referring to themselves as Turkish restaurants because it's
more palatable and it's easier.
I felt like the journey and that struggle is lost in simplifying.
It's not as simple as it's just a Turkish restaurant.
Yeah, they are Turkish restaurants because predominantly these are people
from Turkey, but we're Kurdish, and actually the kind of specific food you're
eating are from Kurdish regions often.
As well, because actually Turkish cuisine is so vast and so broad, there's, you
know, Mediterranean influence, Circassian influence, like, the Aegean, all these
different regions, because it's such like, the position, the, the geography of
Turkey, like, you know, being exposed to Europe and Asia and all, like, you know.
being part of the, like, silk route, as it's called, the trade, it does
feel important to be more specific.
And so the essay, the London Feeds Itself essay, was an opportunity to
To be nuanced, and to kind of, a nod, an ode to that era, like, my parents
era of migration here, that had to be private, and be in private spaces.
In hidden spaces as I say in the essay for so long and it took a lot of
struggle, a lot of beautiful struggle.
It was a very special time.
It was a close knit community then because of that mutual struggle but it took a lot
of hard work to come out into those public spaces and be those public spaces people
know and love and have a right to love.
But I just thought it's a way, here are the places you love
and here's why you love them so much and here's an opportunity.
To actually love them even more,
Music: you
Melek: know.
in the 80s and 90s when a lot of, you know, Turkish political exiles and
Kurdish immigrants moved here, there was very limited option of what the work was
and it was a lot of textile factories and illegal textile factories often.
So when I say illegal, They were legal, but there was a lot of people
working who didn't have work permits, who couldn't get work permits, right?
So these warehouses were mainly in Hackney, some in Tottenham, Haringey,
some in Edmonton, but mainly in Hackney warehouses, where you now know
as Hackney, Wick, and Dawson areas.
So the specific one I write about, well there's two that
I write about in the essay.
One is where Beyond Retro is now, that building.
So
Lucy: the one that's kind of like up from Dawson Junction?
Yeah.
That one.
Melek: So the Simpsons house, I think.
Um, um, and that used to be the top, the floors were factories.
That's where my uncle was.
And then where Yeah.
Palm II Grocers is that building where now the the floor above the warehouse
That's where like people hire out that venue for supper clubs and do yoga that
used to be where my parents were and I talk about Those secret spaces now
being, you know, these trendy places and even me having the experience of
going back in such an unplanned like way and the visceral like reaction I had.
I start the essay talking about how my friend Lee fancied this, this girl who
was like running supper clubs, vegan ones and He was like, so I needed to
be wing woman and go to one of these Christmas pop ups that she was having.
So this vegan Christmas meal that we went to, which was like, It was like 7 65 quid.
Was it like something like, look, I didn't pay for it.
I would not have, I think it was something like that.
Oh God, maybe I'm being outrageous.
Maybe it was 45, but still, still still 45 for a flapjack with cold gravy.
No.
Was outrageous.
That's what we got.
We were told it was a nut roast.
That's a crime against nut roast.
I've had good nut roasts, I have.
That was a flapjack on the plate, and it was cold, I don't know, it
was just nothingness, and I had to sit there, and then obviously
we went for a kebab afterwards.
But um, so he was like, Mel, we're going to this place, come meet me there
and I hadn't, I didn't know, like I didn't think about where exactly it was.
So I rushed, I was running late and then I rushed into this building and then I
went up the stairs and it suddenly felt so familiar and it took me back to when
I was like six and my dad taking me up these stairs when like after school
suddenly through these like double doors and we walked The supper club venue,
but for me it was the factory where my parents worked, and I just reconstructed
that space, I knew where the sewing machines were, I knew where the makeshift
kitchen was on the left, and where the steam irons were right at the back, and
yeah, it was just so emotive, and yeah.
It felt so surreal sitting there and I think I felt even more resentful
about having a flapjack when I knew the incredible meals that happened in that
space, in that secret space, you know?
There was a cutting table in the middle of the factory, so where all the pattern
cutters would work and then give their cuts to the like people on the sewing
machines and that at lunchtime would turn into the massive sharing dining table
so they'd clear all the material off, dust it off and then put a massive cloth
which was made from all the materials there and then everyone would share what
they bought so like everyone had tins and containers of different dishes from
dinner from the night before and it would be warmed up in the makeshift kitchen and
then brought and then you'd create this massive beautiful spread and someone had
put the tea on which is like two pots.
Turkish tea is pot of water and the bottom pot and then tea leaves
like soaking in the concentrate, concentrated water brewing for you
know an hour before you serve it.
So you have the tea on before lunch is ready and then just everyone gathering
around and it was just the most magical.
table of food that these people who were living the most
desperate times in their life were
making
Lucy: magic.
Yeah, against all the odds.
Melek: Yeah, the most resourceful people.
And that's, those are the people who made, you know, manga one and two and,
you know, zero one, I don't know, and all these places, like, of course they did.
Of course they did.
If, if they could be in these secret, dusty warehouses where they had to
like, cover the windows with newspapers so no one knew they were there,
and they could create these feasts.
Of course they could make these restaurants that everyone loved.
Yeah.
And it was just my way of going, Oh, you think this is amazing?
This is how amazing they are.
This is how amazing these people are.
Lucy: I think it's, like, you know, hearing you talk about it now, and
reading the essay as well, it made me think a lot about, like, I don't
know, maybe, like, the intentions people have behind opening restaurants.
Because, like, that Yeah.
That, just, kind of, The restaurants that the people that you're talking about
open, that came from a place of just wanting to feed and wanting to bring
people together and kind of, obviously they were doing it to make a living, but
there was, I feel like that's different from a lot of other restaurants.
Maybe, I don't know.
I don't quite know how to articulate it, but there's something that feels
like it's just, it's a rich part of an incredible culture and it's wanting
to, um, keep producing that, I guess.
Melek: Uh, yeah, but I think that's like, that's true of a lot of communities, a lot
of, and, and I, I think it's so you, um, You know, when I think of the Bangladeshi
community in Bricklay, so what's known as Indian food is predominantly was
the, you know, Bangladeshi community.
Yeah, that's a really interesting parallel.
Yeah, of course.
Lucy: Yeah, it's that erasure again of the, like, specificness of the thing,
because people can't be bothered to
Melek: No, it's not that people can't be bothered, like, I think it's You know,
to be fair, it's just that, that time and what, um, what a community were up
against and how they felt probably like.
They had to kind of present themselves.
What was easier, you know, I see in the I mean when you go to a lot of these like
what I say, Kurdish restaurants, but it's hard like it is if they're presenting
themselves as a Turkish restaurant.
Who am I to go and go?
Actually, sir, you're Kurdish, you know it, you speak Kurdish, you know,
and when I ask you where you're from, you know, you're Kurdish, but you
still say you're, you're Turkish.
And who am I to?
suddenly challenge how they identify themselves, right?
Um, right.
But you know, it is really interesting when I make, when I write these
stories or like I do stories and videos with aunties and communities.
Um, like I, I did this, um, video, uh, during the pandemic of these
women who would get together in their garden to make bread together.
Um, such bread.
And you, you, you get together cause it's easier to make massive batches of
this bread and, you know, for each other.
That's like five women.
And amongst themselves, they're, they're speaking Kurdish, you know, and I'll
ask them what they're saying because they're like Roaring with laughter,
you know, and you're watching them and you want to be in on it and you
go Oh, what are you talking about?
What's what's so funny?
You know, it's not funny in turkish and they'll say it's not funny in turkish Like
they'll refer to themselves as turkish.
They'll go as turkish people and i'm like You, like, are you not
aware of this, like, Contradiction.
Contradiction, this dichotomy, and it's like, but who am I to raise that?
Because there's so much complexity in that.
Lucy: And you've talked about feeling that as well, right?
Yeah, and I
Melek: do, and this is what I mean about this, This constant
battle that I, we always have with our identity, and that's okay.
Why do we have to sit comfortably with who we are?
You know, it's not a given.
It's not an inanimate object.
Your sense of self is always changing and actually to be on your tippy
toes when it comes to self awareness, I think isn't a bad thing, right?
Right.
Rather than it being too settled and it's like.
Lucy: I think that's really interesting, particularly in the world that we live
in where like, that we sort of live in an era of like a personal brand.
And that feels like it's something that has to be quite fixed,
otherwise people don't like it.
Yeah.
And that's really difficult, right?
Like, for the reasons that you're saying, like, how do you navigate?
Like presenting yourself as a particular thing when that's not fixed.
Melek: No, it isn't it isn't but it's so liberating It's so liberating
to have no fixed sense of self
Lucy: Yeah, yeah
Melek: It took a long time for me to see it as a positive thing.
Lucy: I bet yeah Yeah,
Melek: but it is it is and also it just makes you feel So open, I think, and
really loving and accepting of anyone else and whatever they want to be.
And that's why I can't tell those aunties, Auntie, um, aren't
you, I think you're Can ish?
No, like, that's not my place.
Auntie can be whatever she wants to be.
You know?
Another, like, really strong food memory is like, my mum's
chickpea and lamb neck stew.
Well Or cannellini bean and lamb neck.
So it's a really, it's one of the, like, when in those basically old warehouses
and community centres, one of the first dishes that was made and sold, like in
the community centres, was cannellini bean with lamb neck on rice, right?
On chickpea rice often.
And that was such a staple, and the Halkiv, the Kurdish community
centre, was known for that.
Was known for that.
And It's just such a source of comfort and it's so, yeah, because I just
think of what, so basically Beyond Retro was the Kurdish community centre.
And it was that space where, uh, you'd go to, for people who helped you
with your bureaucracy, like filling out forms, uh, you'd go if you had
a housing issue and someone would say, oh, there's a, there's a flat.
You know, that you could go to there or, and then you'd have
like wedding celebrations there.
You'd have like folk dancing classes and then you had the kitchen, the canteen that
had The cannellini beans and lamb neck.
And then mum would make it at home.
And the secret was, with mum's one, was that she'd make it in a pressure cooker.
Lucy: Mmm.
Melek: So that made it extra special.
And there's a thing That our community have with pressure cookers.
It's a big deal having every home should have a pressure
cooker And it's an investment.
They're not cheap and you get a good one and it's you have it for life
And it's the first thing you you get if your child's getting married.
It's the wedding gift It's the ultimate wedding gift.
So like Sometimes someone claims like an auntie will go i'm going
to get this pressure cooker.
They'll claim it and it's like damn it You What am I going to get?
So anyway, when I, back when I was married, no one got me a
pressure cooker straight away.
It was so crazy.
I think mum really wanted to take her time to select the right one.
Anyway, and my ex loved my mum's cannellini britter beans and lamb, but
she took a long time to tell, like, so she didn't, she wouldn't tell him.
The secret of, like, she makes it in a pressure cooker, right?
But she loved him dearly and obviously this was my childhood,
like, Sweetheart, we'd grown up together, that he was like a son.
And then we married and she was getting ready, she was like, It's time to tell
him, like, and, Because I've got to get this pressure cooker and I've Tell him.
That's when I'll tell him.
And then, but four years into the marriage and she still hadn't like, told him.
And then this one day, um, we went over and she had made it.
And he was like, you know, Auntie, I love this so much.
And he ate it and then he, like, he fell asleep on her lap.
She felt so like, oh, this is, you know, my son.
And then we, like, so she bought a pressure cooker.
Uh uh.
To give for our wedding anniversary.
And Four days before our wedding anniversary, we broke up, him and I.
And it was like, I was just plucking up the courage to tell mum and dad,
like, that it's just over, right?
And I'm like, trying to pull myself together to go tell them.
I, like, went away for two weeks and they were like, what's up?
Like, I've got this, you know, like, what's going on?
Everyone's disappeared.
So I pulled myself together.
And was like, finally had the strength to go to mum and dad and go, you
know, like, when it's, it's done.
I'll never forget that.
I, I sat down and dad, like, when I told, and the minute dad heard, he was
the, the dramatic, he took, one who got up and started pacing up and down the
house going, I can't believe it, what?
And then he, like, he disappeared down the corridor and then come back, go,
and another thing, you know, yeah.
And just, he was just had.
An utter breakdown.
And so, Mum and I were like silent, watching him like, just
have all these different thoughts and these different emotions.
One minute angry, one minute like, devastated.
And the next minute going, we're gonna get through this.
And then, and then we just let him calm down.
And Mum was just like silent the whole time.
The whole time.
And then like kind of, half an hour in when Dad had calmed down,
just there was this silence.
And then Mum said, I'm so glad I didn't give him that pressure cooker.
And so she's just like, she's happy.
She's like, you didn't get the cafe, you didn't get that, but you got
the pressure cooker, you got the secret to the stew, you're winning.
Wow.
Yeah.
That's an important stew.
It's a special stew and I never forget it.
But, and I never forget like, All the, like, all that it represents,
you know, in our community centre and how precious that stew is and how
precious a pressure cooker is, you know, and what it means and I love that.
Okay, okay, we're ready, we're actually ready.
Wow,
Lucy: sorry that took
Melek: so long.
Lucy: Oh my god, no, not at all.
This looks incredible.
We can Look at this beautiful table.
Lecker
is hosted and produced by me, Lucy Dearlove.
Thanks to Melek Adal for being part of this episode and for making
me such an incredible breakfast.
If you want to see photos of it, they'll be on the Lecker
Instagram, at Lecker Podcast.
The second edition of London Feeds Itself featuring, um, Mel's essay, along
with so much other fantastic writing about food in London, is out now.
You can find it online or at a bookshop near you.
Music in this episode is by Blue Dot Sessions.
And before I go, a reminder that you can sign up as a paid subscriber
to support Lecker on Apple Podcasts, Patreon, and Substack.
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