Sukoon — a gentle life of food, light + everyday beauty
#4 a weekly letter of small moments that bring you joy—this week, from Paris
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.
Here is my second letter filled with stories of Sukoon from Paris.
Paris Letter #1 here.
I’ll be sharing my Slow Travel Paris Guide soon, for those of you who’ve asked—itineraries with some of my favorite spots, the edible treats to take back home, and the places I return to again and again.
I’ve come to Paris for Sukoon + Slow Travel, because at its heart, it’s about less rush, more noticing.
No rigid itinerary.
A wish list, yes. A checklist, no.
No restaurant reservations made weeks in advance.
No pressure to “make the most of it.”
Just one beautiful day, followed by another.
And so this week, from Paris—6 small joys that gave me Sukoon.
1. Return, But Make It New
The first few days, we were a little jet-lagged and groggy, but we knew that a walk in the evening would wake us up. So we started to walk south of the Marais (where we like to stay), stopping to look at the renovated Notre Dame and then made our way into the Left Bank for dinner. Evren, my son, chose a dinner spot on instinct. He’s been mesmerized with this place since our visit last year, (at the time, Zain, my husband couldn’t accompany us). But this year, the three of us were together, and that made it really special.
It’s a tiny spot with a zinc bar, standing room only. You can have as much bread as you want, and this mountain of butter sits on the counter. I love watching the server spread it onto tiny scallop shells, after which he plonks a bowl of gherkins next to it. Zain and I started with flutes of chilled champagne, while Evren enjoyed a warm sandwich, the beef and cheese oozing out between the slices.
I don’t usually cross the river in the evenings. But that night, I did.
Some places stay the same, but feel entirely different when you return with the people you love.
2. Let the Familiar Be Your Guide
Even if it’s a brand-new city, you can find one thing to do that makes you feel like you are home away from home.
Find your one thing—the tiny ritual that makes any place feel like yours.
For me, that’s buying local bread.
I (mostly) eschew white flour, so I am always looking for bread made with local grains, milled with care. I found a bakery in Paris which uses sustainable, regenerative flours (try it once, and I promise you will be tossing your white bread out).
I walked along the Canal, a place that holds so many memories over the years, a place we walked with our son when he was still a baby.
Maybe you’re somewhere completely new. But you can still find a rhythm. One comforting thing. One familiar ritual. Start there.
3. Stay Somewhere That Lets You Be Yourself
I like to stay in a place that has a kitchen, which is why I don’t stay in hotels.
For me, travel is an extension of myself.
I don’t travel to become someone else.
I like to cook when I travel, and even if that isn’t your thing, think of it this way—you can make coffee in your own kitchen, and enjoy it with a slice of Ten Belles bread, smeared with salt-specked French butter, and dollops of plum jam.
And later at night, when the boys are out playing football in that little cordoned-off square near the Mairie, you can stay in. After a long day of walking through narrow streets and packed restaurants, I sat by the window, with my terrine de saumon (which I bought from down the street) and a €12 mini bottle of champagne.
So tiny, but so luxurious. Right?
When you stay somewhere that lets you be yourself, the whole trip feels different.
Slower. Calmer. Yours.
4. Stay Curious
Ask the questions.
Sometimes the most memorable moments come from the smallest questions.
Go to the local fromagerie and ask the owner what her favorite cheese is. You might walk out with something soft and smelly (and delicious), wrapped in wax paper, that you’ll still be thinking about after you have flown back home.
Or stop by the Monoprix (supermarket) and grab a few things from the deli counter—quiche, salmon pâté, lentil salad in vinaigrette.
My son collects all the potato chip flavors he can find from every country we visit. It’s our silly little ritual.
5. Something For Later
I always bring back something edible.
A jar of mustard (look at the wall of mustard below!). Lots of chocolate.
Because when you are back home, you can savor these moments for a bit longer, to remember how that trip felt. What the light looked like as you walked across the Seine with your family.
Sometimes the most thoughtful gifts, whether for yourself or friends, are the ones you can eat.
6. Make Time to Make Something Beautiful
My friend in Paris asked for my help to host a cocktail party, and if you know me, you know how much I love hosting.
Even though I was on holiday, it felt so good to create something far away from home. I put this beautiful bouquet together (the combination of violet and burnt orange is one of my favorites), then headed to her place to make these 3 appetizers.
Endive with miso creme fraiche and salmon caviar; Bresaola grissini with arugula and Parmiggiano; Goat cheese with roasted capsicum, walnuts, sesame seed, olive oil, honey.
It doesn’t have to be elaborate. You don’t need a reason. Sometimes beauty is the reason.
I promise I will be sharing all of this in a mini-Paris guide I am putting together for you.
May this note from Paris bring a little slowness, softness, and Sukoon to your week—whether you’re far away or close to home. If something here resonates, I’d love to hear from you—you can share your thoughts in the comment section below.
I’ll be share a few more moments of Sukoon from Paris, next week.
And if you’re considering my upcoming in-person food styling workshop, a gentle reminder: early bird pricing ends this Friday, which you can access here. Wishing you a lovely start to the week ahead.
Until next time, may you find a little Sukoon this week.
All love, Shayma x
All photographic beauty in this newsletter is by me, unless otherwise credited.
Perhaps you’d like to read Sukoon #1?
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So many beautiful thoughts! And that terrine plus champagne? This is why we are friends, lol! That looks amazing.