WORN BY
Hedi Sersoub & Zeid Habayeb
Food for Thought
Photographed by Eoghan Gilmore
Interview by Déborah Sitbon Neuberg
Hello Hedi, hello Zeid !
When preparing this editorial, I realized we all met through De Bonne Facture’s collaboration with the magazine Monocle, as Zeid used to be their Head of Retail and E-commerce. As to you, Hedi, you are a regular face of the fashion editorial pages.
Zeid, I will never forget the letter you wrote to me when you ventured out of Monocle to new beginnings as a chef. It struck a deep chord inside me when you told me about your family history and your Jewish great-grandmother’s love story with your Christian great grandfather in Jerusalem. Also, the words you chose to express what you felt looking at our photography at De Bonne Facture supported me in a loving way. I felt seen in my quest for a more nuanced representation in the Western menswear scene.
Hedi, we connected by chance at the Monocle Paris Café opening, as I stumbled on your brother Waël who modelled one of our Editions…. 10 years ago ! We had a very interesting conversation about your Franco-Algerian heritage and the diversity of ethnicities and backgrounds in North Africa. It turns out Zeid had featured De Bonne Facture at his last Monocle shoot that you modelled, and I’m so glad to hear you’ve always been a fan of the line. I’m excited to have this conversation together.
Do you both identify as Arab men? In what contexts do you identify more nationally, or ethnically - mixed, Kabyle, inter-religious or other?
H : I primarily identify as a living being, connected to everything around me, life, and nature. Growing up in France with a mixed Arab and French family, I am attached to my Arab heritage but I don't strictly see myself as French or Algerian; rather, I consider myself a mix of various backgrounds, significantly shaped by my life experiences. Perhaps I see my parents as more influenced by their origins—my dad being Kabyle and my mom French. As for me, I am a blend, but my experiences have predominantly shaped who I am. I grew up as a Muslim and have a profound affinity for this religion, but I do not consider myself religious at all today.
Z : I definitely identify as an Arab man; and more specifically I’m very proud to identify as a Palestinian man. Even though I was born and raised in Jordan, I come from a proud Palestinian family that always celebrated and honoured our heritage. As far as religion goes, I wouldn’t say I’m currently a practicing Christian, but I do find it important to identify as a Palestinian Christian, as that’s a group that is often sidelined in the context of the situation in Palestine. Many of my favourite memories growing up were centred around religious holidays (Christmas, Easter, etc.) because it meant the whole family was gathered and my favourite foods would be served, so I appreciate those religious elements from a cultural and social point of view. .
Has your experience in Europe as someone with Middle Eastern or North African heritage been different than in other continents? In Paris rather than in other European cities?
H : I haven't noticed major differences between Europe and other continents, but moving from Paris to London was quite significant for me. Paris never quite felt like home, especially since I came from Lyon, and I found it challenging to find my place there. London, however, felt like home almost immediately. Within just three months, I noticed a different vibe—a place where diverse communities live together without judgment, which was truly refreshing.
Z : I also feel very at home in London, I find the city a great example of successful integration and I’ve never felt like an outsider here. Compared to North America, where I spent the majority of my 20s, I found people there were quicker to “other” you, asking “but where are you really from?”, not specifically in a malicious way, but I’ve found in London the default is to assume you’re a Londoner, regardless of what you look or sound like..
How is Arab masculinity expressed in your life? Do you feel there is something special about this intersectionality ? Is it something that you ever express with your style? In clothing, or other - like a special politeness, behavior?
H : We are a family of men, with so many cousins and uncles, and being one of three brothers, I've always felt a strong bond with the men. During my teenage years, I sometimes expressed my heritage through my style, with a keffiyeh at college, which was perhaps a way to show my origins. I feel Arab men are seen as strong, with a sense of honor and some emotional restraints, but to me, the family-oriented traits are the most important. And I think they are actually—or at least in my family—emotional; they show a lot of love to the family. My father made me understand very early that nothing would be more important than the bond with my brothers. I think my big brother is very similar; his generosity to us is almost like that of a father and I find that beautiful.
Z : For me I come from a family of very strong women and they definitely ran the show growing up. I’m not sure there’s a way I actively express my Arab masculinity in my daily life, I think it comes through in behaviours which are common in Arab culture generally, not specifically just for men, such as honouring and respecting our elders, being kind and gracious to our guests, cooking and serving food to anyone who enters our homes, cleanliness both personal and otherwise, tenderness and physical touch. I do think it’s quite interesting that these are all behaviours which in the West would actually be thought of as perhaps “unmanly”, but are highly valued and very common in our culture.
How did you find yourself transitioning from an Arab boy to an Arab man, and did it come with a particular ritual or moment in your life?
H : The transition from boy to man was more about personal growth than specifically about my Arab identity. A significant moment for me was when I was 14 and decided to fully observe Ramadan. My parents had previously allowed me to participate only partially, like during weekends, but at 14, I felt ready to commit entirely, and I did it. Successfully completing Ramadan was something I was proud of; I proved to myself I was capable of discipline and willpower.
Z : I don’t think there was one moment or ritual that signified that transition. It was more about several moments in life that felt very monumental, both in the moment and in retrospect. The first time I left home and moved to the US alone, when I left the corporate world and became a chef, when my father passed away. These were all moments where there was a very clear “before” and “after” in my life..
Shirvan by Akrame Benallal
5 Pl. de l'Alma, 75008 Paris
Any misconceptions you struggle with and have to educate people around you about?
H : Having grown up in the Muslim religion but no longer being religious, I often find myself clarifying misconceptions. People frequently assume that being Arab means being Muslim and vice versa. Additionally, my dietary choices often confuse people—I don't eat pork, but I drink alcohol. These nuances can be difficult for some to grasp, as they often rely on outdated stereotypes.
Z : I similarly get asked whether I eat pork almost on a weekly basis, which probably has more to do with working in a kitchen and being around food all day. I’m not offended by the question, but it does fuel this misconception that “Arab” equals “Muslim” and contributes to the erasure of Christians from the Arab identity, something I still find wild considering Jesus was a Palestinian man. That’s only one example of many, whenever I mention to people I’m Palestinian they find it appropriate to share all their, usually misinformed, views to me about it and I find myself having to educate them on basics they could easily learn about themselves..
How do you feel about the Arab food scene in the city you live in? What defines Arab food for you?
H : In Lyon, I'd say the Arab food scene is decent. However, I can't speak much about it since most of the time when I eat Arab food, it's at home with my family. These meals feel festive yet intimate, shared with family and friends at home. When in London, I felt it was very easy to eat Arab food. Even in Paris, you have great restaurants, like at my friend Akrame's with Shirvan, a restaurant inspired by the Silk Road, on place de l’Alma.
Z : For me London is hands down one of the best, most diverse food cities in the world, but I wouldn’t say Palestinian food is exactly prevalent or widely represented. You can definitely get excellent Lebanese food, there’s also amazing Turkish food, but I’d love to see Palestinian cuisine more authentically represented past the usual shawarma or falafel sandwich. It makes me happy to see that it’s slowly changing though, openings like Palestinian chef Fadi Kattan’s “Akub” in Notting Hill are allowing people to try more varied and authentic Palestinian dishes, ingredients, and flavours..
Any favorite dishes that remind you of your childhood or family traditions?
H : My mother's couscous, the chorba we had during Ramadan, and Algerian felfel are dishes that remind me of my childhood and are probably some of my favorite dishes. My mother, though French, is an excellent chef, and her couscous is widely regarded as delicious by those who have tried it.
Z : Maqlubeh is my all time favourite dish, so whenever I smell aubergines being fried it takes me back to home. Special occasions always meant we would be having Waraq Dawaly (stuffed vine leaves), a laborious dish which would see all the women in my family around a table rolling hundreds of them, another example of how Arabs express their love through food.
What are the flavors and smells that make you feel like home?
H : The smell of chorba and almond cakes always makes me happy. Just coming into the house with these smells is comforting.
Z : The scent of caramelized onions and sumac is another favourite because it meant Musakhan, the national dish of Palestine, was on the menu. I really could keep going, I’m obviously biased but I do think our food is the best.
What would you tell your younger self about the way you perceive your identity?
H : I would advise my younger self to explore our family origins more deeply, learn the language, and engage with our ancestors' stories, especially those of my grandfather. Understanding our heritage would have enriched my sense of identity.
Z : As I said I’ve always been very proud of my culture and heritage. But I do think when I was younger, especially as a teenager, I perceived western culture (whether it was music, television, movies, just general popular culture) to be superior to others and I wish I would’ve engaged in our own at a younger age. There’s such a rich history of music and cinema from all over the Middle east, from Egypt to Lebanon to Palestine and all over the Gulf countries.
Any poets, singers, writers, or musicians you want to share with our readers?
H : Idir, a Kabyle singer, is someone I admire. He was the first artist I saw in concert when I was young. His music beautifully represents Kabyle culture. I am proud to have Kabyle heritage. I also love Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, who wrote a lot in Persian, and Khalil Gibran, who explored themes like spirituality, love, and human existence. I also think of Dalida, as she was big in France with Egyptian origins; my mother listened to her a lot.
Z : If you’re not familiar with Fairuz, I would definitely start there. She is probably one of the most iconic singers in Arab history. Her voice and songs are instantly recognizable to most Arabs. Majida El Roumi is another Lebanese singer I listen to often, her music spans everything from classic Arabic songs to folk songs, religious hymns, and patriotic anthems. Warda was my parents’ favourite singer and someone I listen to often, I was actually lucky enough to find a vinyl of one of her albums on this trip to Paris (shoutout to Modular Records and Wewantsounds, an independent French record label remastering and reissuing rare classics).
I love that. Warda’s music has been one of the backdrops to my childhood. I love reading the translation to the words of her love songs.
Z : As for writers, I would recommend any of Ghassan Kanafani’s books, especially “Men in the Sun”. Also his counterpart Ghada Al-Samman, who has an unparalleled mastery of the classical Arabic language. I highly recommend her book Beirut 75, it’s a masterpiece.
What does the Silk Road evoke to you?
H : The Silk Road brings to mind the extensive trade routes that connected Asia, the Middle East, and Western Europe. It was a period of cultural exchange where goods, ideas, and knowledge were shared across vast distances, highlighting the interconnectedness of human history.
Z : Similarly, it’s also a reminder of our inherent interconnectedness. We all as humans have much more in common than we do differences, and if we chose to engage and celebrate that more than we do our differences, we would all be the better for it. Just as much as our history is interconnected, so is our future. The problems that we face as a species, from endless wars to climate change to food insecurity, are challenges that we either overcome or succumb to together.
Last question, in Judaism there is a tradition that names are very important and will significantly influence your life. What are the meanings behind your names ?
H : Hedi is a name rooted in Arabic language and Islamic tradition. It represents someone who guides others with wisdom, patience, and clarity. Amokran is my other name - it was my grandfather's name. It is a masculine name with deep Berber roots. It symbolizes bravery, leadership, nobility, and cultural identity. In many Amazigh communities, having this name is a mark of respect, heritage, and moral strength. My surname, Sersoub, reflects a unique Algerian and possibly Berber heritage. Whether tied to a plant, a bird, or a tribal companion, it carries connotations of nature, journey, and identity.
Z : Zeid comes from the Arabic word that means “growth” or “abundance” and my last name Habayeb means “lovers”. it’s the same root word that “habibi” comes from (which is love) and it’s technically just the plural of habibi, but lovers in this sense doesn’t specially mean lovers in the romantic sense, two - or more - very close people who love each other could be called “habayeb”.
Beautiful, thank you both !
Thanks to Akrame Benallal and the whole team at Shirvan, Bernadette at Le Sedaine Bar and the team at the Grande Mosquée de Paris.
