“Food is the great connector. I like everyone better when I’m full,” remarks Zaynab Issa. It’s a simple aphorism, but one that wasn’t always obvious to the writer and recipe developer. Like many children of immigrants, she spent years navigating the space in between worlds, trying to fit in and ultimately embracing the cultures that comprise her identity.

Issa’s debut cookbook, Third Culture Cooking, is more than a collection of recipes; it’s a celebration of rituals, flavors, and the women who shaped her. From afternoons spent in the kitchen with her Gully Masi to discovering that food was the language she shared with her grandmother, Zaynab’s personal journey is woven into every page. With Third Culture Cooking, she invites readers to step into their own kitchens with curiosity and confidence, to explore perhaps unfamiliar ingredients and to find comfort in the act of feeding themselves and others.

I first met Zaynab almost two years ago at the iconic café and pastry shop in the East Village, Veniero’s Pasticceria, when the cookbook was still just an idea. Now, I have the great joy of sitting down with her with the gorgeous manuscript in hand to discuss how she’s feeling, how it all began, and how the act of saying ‘yes’ has led this twenty-six year old chef and first time cookbook author to where she is now...

Olivia Johnson: It’s wild to think your book was already in progress back when we first worked together. And now it's finally being born into the world.

Zaynab Issa: It still doesn’t feel like it’s done. Every time I finished a phase, either developing the recipes, writing, or shooting the photos, I kept thinking, “Okay, the hard part’s over.” But then it was the manuscript, then design, then PR, sales, promotion, interviews… there’s always something new. It’s so much more than I expected. I had such a specific vision for it, and I was nervous that I wouldn’t be able to meet my own expectations. But in the end, I feel really satisfied with how it came together.

Olivia:The book is gorgeous. How did you approach styling and design? 

Zaynab: I worked with Rebecca Bartoshesky, who has an insane eye. Because of my experience at Bon Appétit, I was really tuned in to how cookbook shoots work. We made detailed reference decks for every recipe. It became a true collaboration. I wanted the book to feel eclectic, each page visually distinct, just like the variety in the recipes.

Olivia: It feels timeless.

Zaynab: That was the goal. I didn’t want it to feel like it belonged to one moment or aesthetic.

Olivia: How’s the press tour been so far?

Zaynab: I start traveling next week. I’m a homebody through and through, but the response has been so fulfilling. I was nervous about what to expect, but the events have been so lovely. I also love that I get to work with interesting brands and highlight small businesses along the way. but I’m learning just how much work goes into this kind of thing. Doing it without a full PR team isn’t a joke, but it gives me control, which, as a Virgo, I appreciate.

Olivia: Everything you do feels deeply intentional. But I’d really love to take it back to the beginning, even before the idea for the book was born. You’ve shared before that there was a time in your younger years when you felt disconnected from your family’s culture. When did that start to shift for you?

Zaynab: I think the shift happened when I went to college. I moved to Brooklyn, started at Baruch, and made my first brown friends outside of my childhood circle. That experience really expanded my world, I met people who shared my background, tastes, and interests, and it made me realize how much bigger and more connected everything was. That’s when I started to feel more comfortable in my identity.

One big moment in particular was how my college thesis was received by the dean. It gave me confidence that there was an appetite for the kind of stories I wanted to tell, especially when presented in a thoughtful, compelling way. I created a zine called Let’s Eat, which I ended up selling through TikTok. This was 2020, Trump was in office, and the country felt incredibly divided. I kept coming back to the question: what brings people together? For me, the answer was always food.

I’ve grown up surrounded by rich food traditions, and I come from a niche ethnic group called the Koja, something I’d rarely seen represented in food media. Swahili cuisine, in particular, is layered with cultural influences and history. I wanted to preserve that through storytelling and recipes, to say: “This is part of who I am. It might be unfamiliar, but if I share it with you, maybe you'll be more open to understanding me. Being able to sell so many copies of the zine showed me there was real interest in this kind of work—and it gave me the confidence to keep going.

Olivia: How did the women in your family react to seeing their recipes in print?

Zaynab: They took it seriously since they knew it was going in a published book. But more than anything, they were really touched by the headnotes. That’s where I memorialized our relationships. It was important for me to express how much I admire and respect them, especially because I didn’t always do that while growing up and I carry that guilt.

Olivia: I think a lot of people can relate to that feeling, you grow up taking so much for granted, especially the people around you. But gaining perspective really shifts how you see it all. It’s beautiful that you now have a platform where you can honor them in such a meaningful way.

I saw the photo of your grandmother at Rhythm Zero, such a sweet full circle moment.

Zaynab: She was surrounded by twenty-somethings and loving it. I didn’t expect this book to resonate so much across generations, but people tell me they’re cooking from it with their moms and grandmas. That connection through food is so special.

Olivia: You wrote beautifully about Gully Masi, your mother’s aunt, and how she expressed love through hospitality. 

Zaynab: She taught me that caring is the point. This obsession with being effortless, I've let that go. These women in my life make people feel like royalty and that requires effort. They don’t cut corners when it comes to making someone feel loved. It’s in the details, the glass plates instead of paper ones, the extra step to elevate a meal. They helped me understand the beauty in that.

Olivia: Totally, at Care of Chan, we believe the power of details lies in their ability to transport people, it's at the heart of everything we do when it comes to hosting our events. What is your hosting ethos? Do you have rituals that are especially meaningful to you?

Zaynab: I prefer small gatherings, under 10 people. I can focus on the food, the presentation, the vibe. There’s a whole section in the book about hosting because I grew up around big family dinners, but now I like to get more intentional. Think about who you're inviting and what would make them feel cared for. Hosting is about looking outward, but cooking for yourself is equally important, it’s self-care.

Olivia: Yes! And it forces you off your phone and into the present moment.

Zaynab: Exactly. Cooking is immersive. It makes me feel productive and nourished. You go from buying ingredients to prepping to making something beautiful. Then you have leftovers! It's self-actualizing.

Olivia: Speaking of the process of selecting ingredients, do you have go-to markets or specialty spots in New York?

Zaynab: Kalustyan’s is my go-to. It has everything. I’ve also been wanting to check out SOS Chefs. But generally, once you build a solid pantry, you don’t need to shop constantly. I rely on Fresh Direct and my spice rack.

Olivia: For readers who are new to some of the less common ingredients in your cookbook like citric acid, pomegranate molasses, or chickpea flour - do you have any advice on how they can start using them in everyday cooking?

Zaynab: Use it once in a recipe and learn its function. Preserved lemon, for example, once you know it's salty and citrusy, you’ll start finding ways to use it everywhere. Same with pomegranate molasses. It’s just about getting familiar. Recipes are great starting points, but good ones should be adaptable.

Olivia: What I’m hearing is that it really comes down to practice and experience, just trying something once can give you the confidence to be more experimental, using recipes as a guide rather than something to follow word for word.

Keeping those readers of your cookbook who are newer to cooking in mind, if you had to choose three non-fail dishes from the book, a starter, main, and dessert for a dinner party, what would they be?

Zaynab: The lemony cucumber salad because it can be prepped ahead, the short ribs with potatoes, I mean who doesn’t love both serving and eating large format meat, and probably a cake or cookie for dessert, something that can be made the night before. I developed these with real people and real occasions in mind.

Olivia: That’s what I love, you make hosting feel approachable.

Zaynab: That’s the point. Not every meal needs to be a performance. Some recipes are for right-now eating, others for gatherings. Both are valid.

Olivia: Any meaningful hosting memories that stand out?

Zaynab: Recently I hosted a friend and her husband and cooked recipes from Third Culture Cooking just for fun. It was my first time cooking from the book casually, and it was such a full circle moment. The experience was seamless because the recipes are so thoughtfully written. I realized I had created something that works, not just for others, but for me.

Olivia: That’s the dream. Is there a feeling you hope people walk away with after reading the book?

Zaynab: Comfort in being themselves. It’s about recognizing where you come from, where you’re going, and embracing who you are. This book only works because I was honest and vulnerable and that’s what makes it real. Authenticity is what resonates.

Olivia: It really does. Especially in a world that’s so curated and performative.

Zaynab: Exactly. I don’t credit my success to manifestation in how people stereotypically think of it. I just kept saying yes to what felt right. And when you do what you’re meant to do, the dominoes start to fall. That’s what this feels like.