Sukoon — a gentle life of food, light + everyday beauty

#2 a weekly letter of small moments that bring you joy

Apr 01, 2025

Welcome to Sukoon

Sukoon, an Urdu word for soft joy, peace + comfort—not just the kind around you, but the kind you feel deep in your chest, when your soul is quiet, rooted, smiling. It’s the warmth of the morning light after snowfall, the sound + scent of basmati rice gently bubbling on the stove, the soft chaos of a table after friends have left. The feeling of sinking into your cloud-like bed at night.

Sukoon lives in food, in memory, in joy that can’t be named. It’s that peace deep in your soul. The kind that lingers. A feeling that settles into your bones.

This series is a weekly photo letter; a way of noticing. All the images are mine, gathered from the daily moments in my life: flowers from the farmer’s market, café corners, hands in motion in the kitchen. Sometimes there’s a recipe. Sometimes just a quiet moment. Always, a pause. Rooted in the spirit of Spice Spoon and Cooking Without Borders, Sukoon is my way of living slowly—and inviting you to do the same.

And so, this week —

4 things that gave me Sukoon:

I find so much joy in gathering loved ones around my table. Sitting down to curate a menu, styling the table with all the vintage linens I have inherited and collected over the years, and presenting the food beautifully—not extravagantly, just thoughtfully.

I like to make sure that even the simplest dish, served family-style, feels special, so that my guests feel special.

We invited friends over to celebrate Chand Raat, the night before Eid, as it’s called in Urdu. These are some of the dishes I made for them.

I do love a retro- inspired crispy lettuce salad, which I serve with my house dressing

Some very special chocolate biscuits from Paris

There was Sukoon in gathering, and another source of joy was celebrating Eid, especially because my son had been fasting. I made a dish that is my mother’s pièce de résistance: Sheer Khurma, a creamy dessert made with vermicelli. She’s made it for years, and I hope this tradition continues for generations. I made extra bowls of it for family + loved ones and made my way to their homes to deliver it. That brought me Sukoon.
The tea cosy with a pot of coffee hiding underneath. Ready for Eid breakfast.
My Sheer Khurma. I love to adorn my food.
There’s something grounding about not being in a rush at a cafe. My fave drink is a cortado, and this place doesn’t serve them to go. They don’t want you to rush.
I sit.
I stay.
I sip slowly and watch the world move while I don’t.
It’s one of the few places where I’m gently reminded to just be. And that brings me Sukoon.

Fahrenheit Cafe, uptown Toronto, where I go for a fab cortado.

A perfect oat mylk cortado from Fahrenheit

There is something so special and intimate about returning to the same familiar stall at the market, week after week, year after year. There is comfort in being known by name. There is comfort in choosing the same flowers, from the same hands, every time.
I’ve gifted these lilies to friends, kept them on my own table, watched them open and last longer than you expect. Maybe that’s why I love them. They’re beautiful, but they’re also patient. Unfussy. Just beautifully there.