In this extract from Imad’s Syrian Kitchen, chef and restauranteur Imad Alarnab shares his memories of his beloved Damascus, his experience of leaving Syria and travelling to the United Kingdom via Europe, and eventually making a new home in London.
IN SYRIA, THE SUMMER GOES ON for three months. It’s always hot, every day.
Blue skies and a perfect sun, you can count on it. I didn’t pay attention to the
weather when I lived in Syria, at all. Unless it was something special. But it was
something special. It was so special. I realise that now. I didn’t appreciate my bed
until we had to shift from one place to another, sleeping on a two-seater couch
or on the floor, or outside in the streets. But I appreciated it then. None of us fully
appreciate what we have until it’s taken away from us. We think it will stay like this
forever, but I know now that it can all be lost.
In 2009, my biggest concern was where we would spend our next summer holiday.
Or how we were going to celebrate my daughter’s birthday, or where I was going
to expand my restaurants to outside of Damascus. At that time, I ran three
successful restaurants in Damascus, as well as juice bars and cafes around the city.
I lived with my wife and three young daughters, with our family all around us.
My children were doing well in school, we took trips to the countryside for picnics,
we went to the cinema or out to dinner with friends, we celebrated marriages
and graduations and promotions at work. We were happy. Things were entirely
normal and there was no way I thought that would ever change. But then, of course,
everything changed.
WHAT IS A REFUGEE?
My name is Imad Alarnab, and I was a refugee, an asylum seeker, a displaced person,
an illegal immigrant. What does that make you think of? Be honest. Does it make you
think of people deciding one day to leave their home country for a more exciting
job or better opportunities elsewhere? Do you think of smugglers helping people enter
other countries in the backs of lorries and on overcrowded boats in the middle
of the night? Do you think of thousands of people crashing onto coastlines
all around the world to take advantage of the citizens and governments there?
I made that journey from Syria to the UK that you’ve all heard about – on foot,
on trains, with false ID, crammed into the back of cars, sleeping outside afraid
for my life – and I can tell you, we are all just like you. We didn’t ‘choose’ to leave,
it was not a decision any of us came to lightly. Every single one of us was forced.
We had no choice. We fled our homes that we loved because we were no longer safe,
or because our homes had been destroyed. Our families were in danger and we had
to do what we could to keep them safe. What would you have done? We don’t want to
travel illegally. We don’t want to take advantage of anything or anyone; we want
to be part of a community, to work, to play our role in society again. We are all just
like you.
On 27 July 2015 I hugged my family goodbye in Syria. Three months later I arrived
in the UK, in October 2015. Leaving my wife and children behind, knowing the
risks, was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But I knew this was our only real
chance at safety long term. My children were young, too young to make the journey
with me; there were too many dangers ahead, too many unknowns. People often ask
why I was intent on getting to the UK, why I wouldn’t stop in Greece or Germany
or somewhere else along the way. I had family in the UK, my sister, my aunt and
cousins, and I spoke the language already. Learning a new language is hard when
you are older, and you need to speak it well to be able to work, and I wanted to work,
I’ve always worked hard. Getting to the UK would mean my family could join me,
we could all be safe, together again. I was scared about what might happen to me,
but imagining the future if we stayed in Syria was even more terrifying.
When I left Syria, my eldest daughter was very emotional. She was frightened for
me, for herself and her sisters. She asked me to promise that we’d see each other
within a year. And in that moment, I didn’t know what else to do but to tell her
‘yes’, even though I wasn’t sure how or if this was even remotely possible. I didn’t
really even believe it myself. But on 26 July 2016 – a year to the day since I’d last seen
them – I was hugging my family again, this time in the arrivals hall at Heathrow
Airport. It was a surreal, unbelievable moment. Surely some kind of miracle.
And then, in December 2022, six years later, we were granted our UK citizenship.
The journey to get here has been long, and often painful – both physically and
mentally. It has been fraught with anxiety and many, many obstacles. I have lost
people close to me, and I miss so much about my old life. But I know that the life
I used to have is gone now, it simply isn’t there anymore, and hasn’t been for a long
time. I am so, so lucky to have been given a new life here in London. The people
of the UK have welcomed me, and I feel at home once again.
I am so proud of what I have achieved here. I am so proud of Imad’s Syrian
Kitchen, and of all the support and love people show it and me and my food.
I want my journey to be looked upon as positive and encouraging for others,
to show what can be achieved. But I also want people to know that it has not been
an easy one. It’s not only my story; it’s for all of us who have had to leave our homes,
who have been scared, who have struggled, who have felt alone and abandoned
at times. I want to share my story so that people understand what we have all
been through to get to where we are today. It’s been very difficult, but as well as all
the hatred and violence, I have been shown so much love. Having lost all faith
in everything, I regained my belief in people during my journey, and I want everyone
to know that. I want my story to reach as many people as possible. With the support
of good people, with an honest heart, you can achieve incredible things.
FROM A CARWASH TO CARNABY STREET
As unlikely as it may sound, it was as a refugee stranded in Calais for sixty-four days
that I started to find myself again. It sounds hard to believe, but that was the point
at which I began to rediscover hope. We’d been donated a small hotplate, and I was
able to cook. We’d pick up leftover ingredients from local cafes or supermarkets
and I’d make meals for as many as 400 people a day! It gave us all comfort, and for
me it was a taste of home, a reminder of who I was. It reignited my passion, gave
me purpose – and it gave me the courage to believe that things could improve.
Cooking brings people together; it unites us all. And with the help of so many
generous people, I’ve been lucky to be able to explore my love of food again, to share
it with others. Honestly, nothing brings me more happiness than seeing people
enjoying food I have cooked for them.
When I first arrived in the UK, I found work illegally in a carwash, getting cars
ready to be sold. I slept there too, as an overnight security guard. I hated it. I hate
cars! But I needed to work, to support myself and my family in Syria. I was a good
salesman, though, and when I could work legally, I had a brief career selling the
used cars I used to clean. But even though I was good at it, it wasn’t where my heart
lay. I thought about working in a restaurant instead, but even though I didn’t
love working at the garage, I knew I couldn’t work in someone else’s kitchen,
to be cooking someone else’s food or giving away my recipes. I did try at the
very beginning. I went for an interview, but instead of seeing me cook or asking
me about my experience, the owner asked me to empty and clean his van, then
told me I didn’t look like a chef and let me go. I went back to his restaurant
after my pop-up had been featured in the newspapers and I saw in his eyes that
he regretted it!
All throughout my life, but especially on my journey from Syria’s warzone to my
home in the UK today, I’ve been blessed by meeting the most amazing people,
guardian angels looking out for me when I’ve needed them the most. How I came
to open Imad’s Syrian Kitchen starts with one of those angels, a woman called
Toni. Once my family had joined me in 2016, we moved to a rented house in
High Wycombe where we lived for a year. Toni was very active in supporting local
communities, including assisting refugees, and she’d heard about a project called
Cook for Syria, which helped raise money for UNICEF’s Children in Syria Fund.
She came to me and said, ‘I’ve been to your house, I’ve eaten your food, I know
what you used to do back in Damascus. Would you like to be a part of Cook for
Syria?’ ‘YES!’ Of course, I did. So, in January 2017, she introduced me to another
amazing woman called Layla Yarjani and within a few weeks she’d started inviting
people to mine for dinner. She’d call me and say, ‘There will be five people eating
at your house in two days, will you be ready?’ She introduced me to a PR company
– who are still my PR company today – and from that moment on everything
changed for me. Laila phoned me one day and asked ‘What are you doing on 9 March?
You’re running a pop-up restaurant in east London.’ Imad’s Syrian Kitchen, the
pop-up, ran for two weeks on Columbia Road, where the flower market is. All the
ticketing and booking was organised, and the media contacted. A logo was designed.
It was a dream come true.
The pop-up was supposed to be just a dinner each evening, but it was so popular that
tickets sold out within 24 hours, and we ended up having two evening sittings and
two Sunday lunches. I couldn’t believe it. After that, I did pop-ups all over London,
and catered for private dinners, weddings and parties, here and in Ibiza, Paris and
Germany. But of course my ultimate dream was to have a permanent location, and
in early 2020, Asma Khan – chef and owner of the Darjeeling Express, who had
become a friend during this time – told me about an available space on Carnaby Street.
And, so, on 19 May 2021, Imad’s Syrian Kitchen, the restaurant, opened its doors.
Nothing will compare to the feeling of that moment, of course – it was everything
to me. It meant I had roots, that I belonged somewhere again. But cooking on the
steps of that church in Calais, where I’d slept night after night, was where it had
really all begun. The first stage of my new life. To cook for people was enough
to remind me that this was the right path for me, it was what I was meant to do.
I want to cook my food and make people happy. I forever want to hear people say
that this is the best falafel they have ever eaten!
And that’s what this book is for: to share my story, but also to share my recipes that
have meant so much to me. Like me, they have travelled and evolved, influenced by
what they have been through, adjusted and changed, but always staying true to their
beginnings. These are the recipes I love, they are for you to enjoy as though I am
making them for you in your home.
This extract is taken from the introduction of Imad’s Syrian Kitchen. Out July 6th. You can also find Imad’s Mahalaya recipe featured in the book.
