MyWorldMyLife

This is the couscous your grandma used to make for me, your aunties and your uncle whenever we had couscous left over after a big tagine meal. Instead of letting anything go to waste, she would turn it into something magical... warm, sweet, and comforting. The smell of cinnamon and butter filling the kitchen meant we were about to get a special treat. Now I’m passing it on to you. Ingredients 1 cups couscous 1/4 cup raisins 1/4 cup toasted almonds 1 tablespoon sugar (or more if you like it sweeter) 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 tablespoon butter Instructions Use a 1:1 ratio of dry couscous to boiling water or broth (e.g., 1 cup of each). Combine them in a bowl with a pinch of salt and 1  tablespoon of  butter, mix  in the raisins so they become plump and juicy.  Cover tightly with a lid or plastic wrap, and let it stand for 5–10 minutes before fluffing with a fork.   Transfer the couscous to a large bowl. While it’s still warm, stir...

Back in my chemo chair for my fifth Zometa infusion… and this time, it falls in Ramadan. There’s something about Ramadan that feels collective. Even if you’re not Muslim, you can probably relate to having certain seasons in the year that feel different; more intentional, more reflective, more connected. For us, Ramadan is that month. Yes, we fast from dawn to sunset. But it’s also about slowing down... about discipline when it’s hard, patience when you’re tired, and remembering what really matters. And today, my Ramadan looked different. Instead of fasting, I was hooked up to an IV. Instead of preparing for iftar, I was listening to the steady beep of machines and watching medication drip into my veins. I won’t pretend that it didn’t sting a little. There’s something tender about knowing your family is moving through the day in a shared rhythm, breaking fast together and you’re sitting it out. But faith isn’t one-size-fits-all. In Islam, when you’re unwell, you’re not just allowed to p...