Cooking from the Heart -Cooking with “Nefas

When I was a boy, winter meant going to the fields with my family to gather لوف (Palestinian arum), a wild plant that grows in Palestine during the cold months. Its leaves resemble grape leaves, but they are larger, a deep and vibrant green almost defiant against the rain. Back home, my grandmother, wrapped in her embroidered thoab, its threads carrying stories older than time, would layer the leaves one upon another with quiet precision before stuffing them with rice and meat.

The kitchen would fill with the scent of garlic and onions, the stove humming softly, rain tapping gently against the windows. But what I remember most was not only the taste. It was her presence. Her voice humming old songs. The way warmth itself felt intentional.

She used to say, “Never cook when you are angry.” Food carries what lives inside your heart. She believed that food was the greatest gift you could offer another human being. She called it nefas (نَفَس)-the breath of the cook, the spirit placed into the meal. Nefas is what happens when you cook from the heart. When food becomes more than routine; it becomes care, dignity, even healing. Before we ever took a bite, we already felt full.

Here in Canada, I sometimes search for that feeling. And I remind myself, and others, that cooking with nefas is not about abundance. My family had very little. Yet the meals made with intention, patience, and love remain the best gifts of my life.

What is a meal that still carries someone’s nefas for you?

What is your story?

@sadaa.echoes