Beyond the Sea

Remapping: Artist and chef Rafram Chaddad pens an account of food across borders

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CERTAIN FOODS remind us of other places, distant pasts. Since my mother moved to Jerusalem from our ancestral home Djerba, she has felt far removed from the fish she grew up with. Whenever I visited Djerba, I found myself haggling for fish in the Houmt Souk, taking them home, then cleaning and freezing them to bring to my mother. I would go through two airport security checks holding a polystyrene box and, when the security staff saw X-rayed fish skeletons, they'd ask, 'What the hell?' I'd mention my mother and her love of fish. She can get fish in Israel, but it's different for her. All these years in a new country haven't erased her memories of Djerba's fish.

Years ago, I met the late Samir Zalatimo, who had a bakery under the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. His family came from the Libyan town of Zliten, in the days of free movement during the Ottoman Empire and, over the last two centuries, they married into Palestinian families from Hebron. Just as his ancestors had done before him, Samir used to make a paper-thin pastry called moutabak, which takes its name from the word