One of the interviewee’s most vivid childhood memories is rooted in their grandparents’ house in Marsa, particularly in the cramped, greasy kitchen where their grandfather (a former Navy chef) cooked for the extended family. Despite the cluttered counters, the haze of frying oil, and the lingering scent of smoke, the kitchen radiated warmth and creativity. Their grandfather, a stern yet captivating figure, would sometimes sneak them a sip from his hidden stash of whisky or offer unusual delights such as sugar-coated fried ravioli and makeshift ice lollies fashioned from ice cubes frozen in bottle caps. Outside the kitchen window, purple roses bloomed in the garden, planted years earlier by the grandfather for his wife. The house was alive with the sounds of childhood: cousins darting through the rooms in play, laughter echoing against tiled walls, and the rhythmic rattle of their grandmother’s sewing machine vibrating through the house like a steady heartbeat. The sensory richness of the space also remains unforgettable, the light blue painted kitchen walls, the weight of cast iron pans, the mingling aromas of simmering vegetable soup and blooming roses. These early experiences, steeped in flavour, sound, and affection, left a lasting mark. They not only nurtured the interviewee’s love for food but also shaped their appreciation for resourcefulness, everyday creativity, and the quiet legacies woven through family life.