1977. Lebanon. Hana Assafiri looks out of an aeroplane window.  Twenty hours and eight thousand miles away is her new home- the place where she was born.

2016. Melbourne. Hana Assafiri’s attention is being pulled every which way. We are sitting in her cafe The Moroccan Deli-cacy and our conversation is punctuated by multiple interactions that Assafiri has with her staff, ‘Get those plates in please, it’s not pigeons food’, and ‘Can you fix that spice display please – doesn’t look right’.

Continue reading “A spoken menu, spices and tagines.” →