Yasmin Khan is a British-Iranian food and travel writer, human rights activist, and mom—or shall we say, mum—to Mitra, an 18-month old girl. She’s the author of four beloved, award winning cookbooks: The Saffron Tales, Zaitoun, Ripe Figs, and her most recent, Sabzi: Vibrant Vegetarian Recipes. She has collaborated with chefs like the late Anthony Bourdain and received praise from Nigella Lawson and Yotam Ottolenghi to name a few. She contributes to publications like The Guardian, The Financial Times, the Wall Street Journal, Vogue, and Bon Appétit, covering food of course as well as identity, social justice, motherhood, and mental health.
Here she delves into her go-to Thanksgiving dish, the intersection of food and new parenthood (special shoutout to Babybel cheese!), and how she centers her activism these past two years.
Everything is political—even food. In 2019, you published the award-winning cookbook, Zaitoun: Recipes from the Palestinian Kitchen. So much has happened between then and now. Between the starvation in Gaza (and the depletion of SNAP benefits in the U.S.), there’s an incredible juxtaposition between the immense suffering we see on the news and the abundance we experience at home. How do you, especially as a mother and food writer, think about that?
It’s been incredibly confronting to experience early motherhood while watching the genocide in Gaza, seeing children traumatized by ICE raids and those left hungry by benefit cuts. I genuinely don’t understand how those in power can witness what we’ve all been seeing and not be moved to act.
Personally, it’s often been overwhelming. I’ve oscillated between heartbreak, grief, guilt, despondency, and rage. I remember being five months pregnant and pouring myself a glass of water one morning when I thought of a UNICEF report I’d read the day before describing young children in Gaza begging their mothers for something to drink because the infrastructure supplying water had been targeted by the Israeli bombing campaign. I broke down in tears at the kitchen sink as I couldn’t imagine looking at a small toddler’s face, begging me for water, and not being able to provide it. The inhumanity has been beyond comprehension and I’m forever changed.
As a woman of color, a Muslim and a second-generation immigrant raising a daughter in this world, I’ve felt deeply anxious about her future. I don’t think some friends have understood just how existential it feels when you keep seeing brown people dehumanized and targeted in this way.
"As a woman of color, a Muslim and a second-generation immigrant raising a daughter in this world, I’ve felt deeply anxious about her future. I don’t think some friends have understood just how existential it feels when you keep seeing brown people dehumanized and targeted in this way."
How have the past two years changed how you write about food?
Food is the central way in which I exist in the world, it’s how I show love to people I care about; how I earn a living; and how I experience joy. But I've always tried in my books, be they about Iran, Palestine or the refugee and migrant communities to show that food doesn't exist in a vacuum but rather tells the wider story of how a society or a people are living in a particular moment in time. But something has definitely shifted over the past few years which has reshaped how I want to engage in the food industry.
A big part of my job has been celebrating the food and travel adventures I’ve had, sharing recipes and posting from restaurants, but I’ve stepped back from a lot of that as it felt uncomfortable showing abundance while so much suffering was unfolding. I don’t begrudge food industry friends who have kept posting the same content though. Life is multifaceted, and we all still have to cook for ourselves and our families. And for many food personalities, it’s their livelihoods. So I get it. But for me, it's forced me to reassess what I want to be and what I want to share online.
I’ve also become much more aware of food waste which is something I always cared about, but which now feels urgent. I really want my daughter to grow up understanding the value of food, how fortunate we are, and why we shouldn’t waste what others would give anything to have.
You wrote about food and miscarriage for Vogue so beautifully. Now, a few years later, how has cooking and eating interwoven with your experience of motherhood?
My relationship with food has been a bit disastrous in early motherhood. I desperately wanted to breastfeed but had very low milk supply, so I went through six months of triple feeding, supplements, every herbal concoction imaginable, and even illicit off-label medication (not recommended). I developed postpartum anxiety and depression and comfort-ate my way through that first year gaining a ton of weight.
There’s a myth that breastfeeding burns tons of calories so you can eat whatever you want and I did not find that to be true. So for the last six months I’ve been trying to lose the weight I gained postpartum, which has been very boring because I love food. I’m attempting “gentle, sustainable weight loss,” which basically means eating more salads and protein while dreaming aggressively about cake.
"My daughter loves sour, which I’m going to credit to her Iranian side, and cannot get enough raspberries, kiwi, or tart natural yogurt so that’s normally what happens for snacks. And of course, like most kids, pasta with tomato sauce and lots of cheese is always a winner and is what gets served up if I’m tired. Seriously, what is it with kids and Babybel? That red rubber casing is basically catnip to her."
What is a typical meal you serve your daughter? Any food musts for her?
I decided early in weaning my daughter that after the awful stress of breastfeeding I wasn’t going to make solids harder for myself than I needed too. So she pretty much eats what we eat so I don’t have to cook twice. She’s 18 months now and loves richly spiced dishes, so if I’m making something I know she’ll enjoy, I stick to South Asian flavors such as chickpea masalas, coconut fish curries, or a fragrant chicken-and-rice pilaf.
She also loves sour, which I’m going to credit to her Iranian side, and cannot get enough raspberries, kiwi, or tart natural yogurt so that’s normally what happens for snacks. And of course, like most kids, pasta with tomato sauce and lots of cheese is always a winner and is what gets served up if I’m tired. Seriously, what is it with kids and Babybel?? That red rubber casing is basically catnip to her.
Having said all that, I think that most children can thrive on diets less diverse than experts profess. Just think what we all grew up eating?! There is far too much pressure on mothers to be creating little gourmands before they are even out of nappies. Just throw together what you find easy and what they like, and you’ll all be fine. The pleasure of eating meals isn’t actually what’s on the plate, it’s how you feel when you are sitting down at the dining table together.
I support a range of organizations: practical aid groups like Doctors Without Borders and the Palestinian Red Crescent Society, and just as importantly, organizations campaigning for Palestinian rights, arms embargoes, and justice. After many years spent traveling to Palestine whilst working for a British NGO and for the research for my book Zaitoun, one thing I heard again and again from Palestinians is that they didn’t want our charity, they want our political solidarity.
That’s why campaigning organizations matter so much. The crisis we see in the Middle East today needs a political solution, not a charitable one. Ending the illegal Israeli occupation and affording equal rights to all who live on that tiny strip of land is the only way to ensure that everyone in the region—Israelis, Palestinians, and their neighbors—will ever have the peace, dignity, and security they all deserve.
Doctors Without Borders is an incredible organization that helps people across the world and in Gaza access medical care. Just because there is currently a ceasefire does not mean that the suffering is over. All essential infrastructure in Gaza has been destroyed and people are living in tents in the freezing cold and facing destitution from flooding when it rains. Food insecurity is everywhere, medical supplies are scarce and the psychological trauma lives on. There are many ways to make a difference.
The book is a celebration of veggie and vegan recipes that celebrate the best of Middle Eastern, Mediterranean, and South Asian flavors. So lots of tahini, lemon, herbs, saffron, Aleppo pepper, fenugreek and pomegranate molasses—I love those fragrant and tart combinations! It’s my most personal book to date, filled with fuss-free, accessible recipes inspired by my travels and the cooking I do at home. I wrote most of the book while I was pregnant with my daughter and was craving a lot of Persian food. My Mom is from Iran so that’s the food I grew up eating and I think it was something to do with memory of comfort and nurture.
In Sabzi, there are recipes suited to each season and the savory ones I turn to at this time of year are the Halloumi Lasagna, the Coconut Chana Daal, and the Butternut Squash and Harissa Dip. But I have a real sweet tooth too so I’ll be making my Spiced Carrot Cake with Maple Cream Cheese Frosting and the Dark Chocolate and Dried Lime Tart (pictured above) on repeat over the holidays.
For friends who’ve just had babies, I always make lasagna which I believe is basically edible emotional support. It also freezes brilliantly and everyone loves it. I make Nigella Lawson’s Lasagna of Love for meat-eaters, and my Halloumi Lasagna for vegetarians. I always include a bag of salad greens and shop bought garlic bread because new parents deserve sides too.
The most underrated ingredient in the pantry is cinnamon. It’s incredibly versatile. I use it in oatmeal, but also with chicken, lamb and beef stews, in vegetarian curries, and in tomato-based sauces. It brings warmth, sweetness and fragrance to savoury meals without overpowering.
Heavy cream is so overrated in savory dishes, it’s too sweet and cloying! I substitute crème fraiche where I can, but mainly I’m a Mediterranean-leaning cook, so olive oil is my everything.
I avoid big appliances because my tiny London kitchen doesn’t have space for a slow cooker, pressure cooker, or air fryer. But my number-one gadget is my Microplane Grater. I use it constantly for zesting lemons, grating Parmesan, and mincing garlic or ginger. I also often give it as a gift, they are the perfect small present!
I love Thanksgiving! It’s one of my favorite food holidays. My sister and her kids live in New York, but when she’s here, she cooks epic dinners for us. I’m all about the veggie sides. The bird stresses me out and every year I think I’ll make a pie, but then remember that pie crust requires precision and stability, which I do not currently possess. Instead, I love updating classics, like making Brussels sprouts roasted with lemon, garlic, and cumin, then scattered with pomegranate seeds for color and acidity (see recipe below). They’re bright, fresh, and festive.
Roast Brussels Sprouts with Almonds, Cilantro, and Pomegranate
Serves 4 as a side
1 pound 9 ounces/700 g Brussels sprouts
Olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
Grated zest of 1 lemon
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper or other mild chile flakes
¼ cup/20 g sliced almonds
1 large handful cilantro leaves, finely chopped
1 handful pomegranate seeds
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Growing up in the UK, I always thought I didn’t like Brussels sprouts as they were usually served limp and sad, boiled until they were mushy. Spending more time in the US has completely changed my relationship with these versatile cruciferous vegetables and now I absolutely adore them, especially when roasted and slightly charred. This seasonal recipe brings colorful cheer to autumnal and winter tables and would make a lovely side for Thanksgiving or Christmas.
Preheat the oven to 400°F/200°C.
On a large baking sheet, toss the Brussels sprouts with 2 tablespoons oil and 1/4 teaspoon salt and roast for 25 minutes, until slightly charred.
Meanwhile, heat 2 tablespoons oil in a small pan over a low heat. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute, stirring frequently to ensure it doesn’t burn. Transfer the garlic to a large bowl, add the lemon zest and juice, chile flakes, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper, and mix well.
Put the almonds in the same pan and toast over low heat for 1 or 2 minutes, until lightly golden and fragrant.
When the sprouts are ready, toss them well with the lemon-garlic dressing and add the toasted almonds. Fold in the cilantro. Taste and adjust the seasoning, then finish with a handful of pomegranate seeds.
Yasmin Khan is an award-winning food and travel writer, human rights campaigner, and broadcaster. Her books share recipes and stories from across the Middle East and Mediterranean. Follow her on @yasminkhanstories.