What My Grandparents’ Kitchen Taught Me About Love

Leah Miksi-Sahdo
6 days ago
5 min read

For two months, I lived like a normal granddaughter — waking up to the smell of my grandmother’s dough rising, her vegetables roasting, and her humming quietly in the kitchen. My grandparents, who live in Sweden, are often too far for me to savor their meals. But this summer was different.

What I learned this summer wasn’t just how to cook; it was how food carries emotion. Each dish was more than a recipe — it was a story, a gesture, a memory passed through generations. Between my grandmother’s eagerness to keep me fed and my grandfather’s tireless devotion to his garden, I came to one clear conclusion: the secret ingredient is love.

Here are some of the recipes that remind me of that love.

Memory #1: Börek (Savory Turkish Cheese Pastry)

Link to Video: Grandma's Borek

The first dish I learned to make was my grandma’s börek — layers of crisp, buttery phyllo filled with cheese and herbs. I’ve always thought of myself as a decent cook, but my signature dishes stopped at chicken alfredo and chicken parmigiano. So learning something that carried my roots felt like stepping into a new chapter. Börek is simple but rich in flavor, the kind of recipe that connects you to centuries of women who made it before you — folding care into every layer.

Courtesy of Leah Miksi-Sahdo

Ingredients

2 types of feta cheese (Preferably Dairyland Piknik Feta Cheese & Merve White Cheese)
1 small bunch of parsley
1 pinch of salt
2 tsp of red pepper flakes
1 egg
4 tbsp of unsalted butter
1 tbsp of Sesame Seeds
1 pack (about 500 grams) of phyllo dough borek sheets

Instructions

In a bowl, mix the feta cheese, chopped parsley, salt, and red pepper.
Brush the melted butter onto the bottom of your baking pan.
Layer phyllo dough, then add butter, then add the filling. Repeat for 2-3 layers.
For the top layer, whisk an egg with butter and brush it evenly over the dough.
Cut the pastry before baking, then sprinkle sesame seeds on top.
Bake at 400°F (200°C) for 20-30 minutes or until golden brown.
Let it cool slightly before serving — and enjoy with a cup of tea, just like my grandma does.

Memory #2: Grandma’s Bread

Link to Video: Grandma's Bread

If börek taught me patience, my grandma’s bread taught me gratitude. She’d always bake in large batches, filling the kitchen with a sense of warmth and comfort. We’d eat some fresh, freeze the rest, and somehow it still tasted like love days later. This bread takes a little effort, but every knead of the dough reminds me of her steady hands, soft smile, and the quiet strength that comes from feeding a family.

Courtesy of Leah Miksi-Sahdo

Ingredients

1 full bag of flour (about 18 cups)
64 oz. bag of flaxseed meal
2 tbsp. of active dry yeast
1 tbsp. of salt
1 gallon of water
1 tbsp. of olive oil
½ cup of whole flaxseeds

Instructions

In a large bowl, combine flour, flaxseed meal, yeast, and salt.
Gradually add warm water while mixing until a dough begins to form.
Knead the dough on a floured surface for 10–15 minutes, adding olive oil to keep it soft and elastic.
Once smooth, shape into a ball and coat lightly with oil.
Cover with towel and let rise for 1–1½ hours or until doubled in size.
Punch down the dough, shape into loaves or rounds, and sprinkle flaxseeds on top.
Place on a baking sheet and let sit for another 30 minutes.
Bake at 375°F (190°C) for 35-45 minutes, or until golden and hollow when tapped.
Cool slightly before slicing and store extras in the freezer for later.

Servings: One 9”x13” Baking Pan

Memory #3: Maqlouba (Upside-Down Chicken & Rice)

Link to Video: Maqlouba

My favorite dish of all time is maqlouba, meaning “upside down.” It’s the one meal I never eat unless grandma’s visiting. The name comes from the dramatic finale, when you flip the pot to reveal a tower of layered rice, chicken, and vegetables infused with the same spices that fill her kitchen shelves. It’s comfort food at its finest — simple, flavorful, and made in just one pot. The best part? That moment before the flip, when everyone gathers around holding their breath, waiting to see if it’ll hold. Somehow, it always does.

Courtesy of Leah Miksi-Sahdo

Ingredients

1 lb chicken thighs (You can also use chicken breasts or other proteins)
1 large eggplant
2 bell peppers
3 tomatoes
2 cups of basmati rice (rinsed and drained)
2 tbsp. of olive oil
2 chicken bouillon cubes
1 tsp. of paprika
½ tsp. of black pepper
1 tsp. of salt
½ tsp. of red pepper flakes
3 cups of boiling water (enough to cover rice)
1 tsp. of Swedish gryl krydda

Instructions

In a deep pot, heat olive oil over medium heat.
Slice the eggplants and bell peppers, then sautée them in the oil until slightly softened, then remove and set aside
In the same pot, add the cubed chicken and cook until lightly browned. Add paprika, salt, red pepper, black pepper, and gryl krydda.
Once chicken is cooked through, layer the cooked vegetables and tomato slices on top.
Spread the rinsed rice evenly on top.
Dissolve bouillon cubes in hot water and pour gently over the rice until it’s covered.
Cover and cook on low to medium heat for 30-40 minutes, until the rice absorbs the liquid and everything is tender.
Turn off the heat and let the pot rest for 10 minutes.
To serve, place a large platter over the pot and flip it upside down carefully, then lift the pot to reveal your masterpiece.
Garnish with parsley or nuts if you’d like, and enjoy the applause if you’re making this for an audience like my grandma does.

Servings: 6-8

The Garden Behind Every Meal

Link to Gardening Video: Grandpa's Garden

Of course, none of these dishes would have been possible without my grandfather’s quiet devotion to the earth. Every morning, he’d step into the garden, tending to the tomatoes, eggplants, and cucumbers with the same patience my grandma had in the kitchen. He’d built his own greenhouse the summer before, and until this November, it’s still bursting with life.

Watching him taught me that love doesn’t always need words. Sometimes it looks like a man with dirt on his hands and a proud smile when you take your first bite. In the end, I’ve realized that food isn’t just sustenance, it’s a form of storytelling. My grandparents’ recipes are their legacy, written not on paper but in the way they feed, nurture, and care. Though I’m far away now, every time I bake bread or flip maqlouba, I taste home again.