Review by Kate Gaul
“My English Persian Kitchen” is by playwright Hannah Khalil and based on a story by food writer Atoosa Sepehr. The show weaves together the story of a woman fleeing her marriage in Iran to England with the cooking of traditional Ash Reshteh, a Persian noodle soup filled with red onion, garlic, beans, chickpeas and green lentils, and fragrant with fresh herbs: mint, parsley and dill. A large kitchen counter with working hob sits centre stage and to one side a tall white fridge. As we enter the theatre actor Isabella Nefar stands at a kitchen counter, dicing and chopping. Once the house lights go down, she explains that women in Iran pursue education and career and that they often don’t cook, or tell people they don’t, to avoid becoming overwhelmed with domestic tasks. It’s fascinating to watch someone actually wield a knife, mash garlic and measure ingredients all while performing for an audience. And of course, the fragrances of these fresh and wonderful foods fill the auditorium. This is the present.
Without warning the scenario flicks to the past and the kitchen bench and fridge is transformed in an airport, a taxi, a bedroom. The fridge becomes a doorway, projection surface, a sanctuary or prison. Supported by a brilliant sound design (Dan Balfour) and unsettling lighting (Marty Langthorne) we are immediately transported. In December 2007, Atoosa Sepehr arrived in the UK from Iran, knowing no one, her life ahead a blank sheet. She was 30 years old, fleeing a disastrous marriage and her escape was an overnight flit. She’d packed in under an hour, was driven to Tehran at speed by her mother, bought a ticket in cash and raced through departures. In Iran, divorce wasn’t easy without a husband’s agreement, which Sepehr knew her husband would never give. He also holds the power to ban his wife from leaving the country. What has happened to our protagonist is never made explicit, but we have enough information to know that her delicate strategy for escape was indeed touch and go. Arriving in the UK she confronts the polite and distant coldness of her neighbours as she begins her life again. It is though the power of communal invitation to a meal that she makes change. In this story of survival, we cannot help but be moved by the challenges of hearing of a young woman doing it alone.
The cooking of the meal onstage – which must proceed logically and methodically – is in contrast to the chaotic and non-linear imaginative story telling. Isabella Nefar’s restraint is a pleasure to share. The production does feel as if it meanders at times but the central idea of food, community and creating a home is powerful. As we are brought together as community in the theatre there is no better way of concluding the production than with the shared meal. Audiences are invited to gather around the kitchen bench to sample the Ash Reshteh and in the foyer, there is another batch to share. It really is delicious.
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