Cooking Memories: How One British-Pakistani Home Cook is Keeping Her Heritage Alive in a UK Kitchen
Intro:
In a quiet corner of northern England, “Sadia” — a softly spoken British-Pakistani in her early 30s — spends her weekends doing something that keeps her connected to her roots. In the warmth of her small kitchen, surrounded by the aroma of cardamom and sizzling onions, she teaches friends and neighbours the dishes she grew up eating. We sat down with Sadia to talk about food, identity, and why she believes cooking is a form of storytelling.
Q&A
Q: Sadia, can you tell me a little about your background?
A: I was born here in the UK, but my parents are originally from a small town in Pakistan. Growing up, our home was a mix of two worlds — outside it was British schools, British weather, British TV, but inside, it was Urdu, family gatherings, and the smell of my mum’s curries filling the house.
Q: What sparked the idea for your weekend cooking sessions?
A: Honestly, it started very casually. A friend once came over while I was making chapati, and she was fascinated. She’d never seen dough rolled out by hand like that. She asked me to show her how to make one, and before I knew it, we were in my kitchen every Saturday with a couple of other friends, cooking together. It just grew from there.
Q: What do you usually teach people to cook?
A: I keep it simple. Daal, chicken curry, vegetable pakoras, parathas — the kinds of things you’d find in a Pakistani home kitchen. I also show them the little tricks that aren’t in recipes, like how to judge the right amount of spice by smell, or when to add tomatoes so the colour is right.
Q: Have you found people are open to learning?
A: Absolutely. Food is such a great icebreaker. I’ve had neighbours who’d never tried Pakistani food before tell me they now make my daal once a week. And when we cook together, we don’t just talk about food — we end up talking about family, traditions, travel. It’s like the kitchen becomes a little cultural exchange.
Q: Do you adapt your recipes for the UK?
A: Yes, sometimes. In Pakistan, we’d use fresh green chillies for almost everything, but here, I often have to use frozen or milder ones because that’s what’s available. And some spices, like fresh ajwain leaves, are impossible to get unless you grow them yourself. So I teach people how to improvise.
Q: What does cooking mean to you personally?
A: It’s comfort. It’s memory. When I make my mother’s lamb curry, I can picture her standing by the stove in our old kitchen. It’s also pride — every time I share a dish with someone who’s never had it before, I feel like I’m passing on a little part of who I am.
Q: Has this changed how you see your own heritage?
A: Definitely. When you grow up between cultures, it’s easy to feel like you’re not fully part of either. But cooking has shown me that I can belong to both. I can be British and Pakistani, and my kitchen is where those worlds meet.
Q: What’s one dish you think everyone should try making at home?
A: A simple daal. It’s cheap, healthy, full of flavour, and you can make it in under 30 minutes. Plus, it’s the kind of dish you can keep improving every time you make it.
Closing:
Sadia’s kitchen may be small, but its reach extends far beyond the four walls. Through simmering pots and shared plates, she’s building connections that span cultures — one meal at a time.
