Even in Those Dark Places of War, Our Food is Our Hope

We met online several years ago, probably on some social media post where I admired his food, and vice versa. There were calls exchanged. He was living in the states, but fate took him back to Iran to care for his ailing father.

We talked about a possible collaboration. Chefs do that. I was dumbfounded as our styles of cooking are vastly different. He is a young chef whose food is art. Fine dining at the most prestigious venues, that is his passion. My style is based more on healthy foods. I was pretty thrilled, even though I knew this would probably not come to pass.

For the sake of this post, and to protect his identity, I will call him Nikan “One who brings good.” He talked very freely about his love for the Jewish people, and how he hated the regime. Yet here we are  in the middle of a war. I knew he could not speak openly. He knows the game there, and I would not dare put his life in jeopardy by asking anything political or about the war.

This morning very early there was an Instagram story. I commented, and we started a lengthy conversation. “How is your family?” Both sharing updates and congratulations. I told him how worried I was. He responded with joy. He was overjoyed thanking me profusely for my friendship.

This morning we agreed that food is the great unifier. This is why we do what we do. Food heals. His love for his art shows in the magnificent, and beautiful food he creates. In those dark places of war, and turmoil, our food is our hope. Even in a war zone, love still flourishes. It is how we share our gift to the world.

A short time ago his car and restaurant were bombed, had he been seven minutes earlier, he would have perished. With a kitchen full of dust, smoke and chaos, they cleaned the ruble and carried on. Chef Nikan’s stunning food, rose through the ashes. That was the photo I saw this morning.