Immersive play ملعقة (mil-aa-qa) serves a delicious tale of nurturing inclusion through food, writes Patrick Gunasekera.
A Feast For Understanding
4 May 2026
- Reading time • 8 minutesTheatre
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Cover Image: Writer /and performer Jude Soussan in ملعقة (mil-aa-qa). Image by Apurva Gupta
ملعقة (mil-aa-qa) by Jude Soussan
The Blue Room Theatre
Wednesday 28th April
Brilliantly staged as a live studio cooking show, ملعقة (mil-aa-qa) brings audiences straight into the heart of a cluttered Lebanese home and an untold story of difference within it.
Hosted by Aunty (Jude Soussan, also playwright), we are immediately swept into her preparation of mdarredra, a naturally gluten-free dish. Soussan’s buoyant connection with her audience is kind, unwavering, mature and sensitive – organic laughter and attention reciprocated from the audience showing we never felt lost or disconnected from the sole performer.

The sensory immersion of ملعقة (mil-aa-qa)’s stage design (set assistant Christian Catenacci-Diodato, AV & sound design Georgi Ivers, AV technician Roger Miller) is uplifting and fabulously well-realised. Audiences are greeted by strong, homely smells of onion and cumin, as we enter a gorgeously over-decorated kitchen and dining room. Familiar sights of ethnic homes – a shoe rack by the entrance, glass cabinet of fine china and crystal cups, pastel family photos spilling across the walls – are an affirming, joyful presence across the production. The world built onstage was utterly believable and dynamic whilst staying with the one setting.
ملعقة (mil-aa-qa) starts strong with clear positioning of setting, character, and the purpose of our hour together. But what unfolds from here are personal anecdotes of adjusting to life with coeliac disease, and becoming an outsider to one’s own cuisine and community through gluten intolerance.
Soussan is unsparing with real accounts of gastronomical inaccessibility, lack of understanding in ethnic communities and beyond, and being shamed for uncontrollable fatigue flares amidst the already unfair pressures of being an eldest daughter at home.

Whilst ملعقة (mil-aa-qa) includes much attention to care for its audience and is a beautifully eclectic script journeying through contrasting tones and tales with ease, I also found myself questioning the writer’s choice of framing whenever personal stories about being coeliac emerged. This illness, similar to ones I live with, was consistently wrapped with negativity.
The question of whether to focus more on the loss or the gains of a physical change is always best addressed by the storyteller themself, their work being their own agency and self-definition. However, as an audience member I was often feeling concern about how ملعقة (mil-aa-qa)’s own-voice narratives of illness as negativity overlap with broader, systemically harmful narratives of illness that often carry the same message.
Considered against a broader contemporary context – where we face a daily normalisation of voyeurism, dehumanisation and stigma toward chronically ill bodies, lives and voices – this show’s writing about illness was deeply honest but occasionally seemed to re-enact some of the othering dynamics it seeks to shift.
For me, the script’s strongest points were when dynamics shifted from confessional storytelling to authentic satires of uninformed follies.
My unease about representation dissolved when a volunteer from the audience was invited to play a coeliac friend while Soussan, caricaturing a non-coeliac person, obnoxiously contaminates their whole gluten-free meal. These uproarious comebacks continue as she personifies a one-sided journalist, Aunty’s markedly aloof husband (Soussan has a notable skill for subversive drag impersonations), and stage manager Adam Snyman cameos as an allergen-illiterate waiter.

In these moments, our gaze is unquestionably on the problematic, inconsiderate behaviours making Aunty’s life harder. By framing these moments with comedic disapproval, our critique as an audience land on ableism – not on a body. This thread strengthens as Aunty’s pure offerings of wisdom throughout the show circle back to a message of inclusivity and kindness as positive virtues to strive for.
Whilst this show left me with food for thought about how our stories are positioned for non-disabled audiences, it’s overall passion, culinary generosity and seamless responsivity were a truly rewarding experience that will not leave the senses nor heart soon.
And to its credit, the able-bodied friend I went last night with left with greater recognition of how to be more considerate of people with socially alienating food allergens in her life.
From a local emerging team to watch, ملعقة (mil-aa-qa) is an entertaining, warmly engaging, and thoroughly creative staging of personal stories and culinary knowledge, which everyone will leave feeling fuller.
ملعقة (mil-aa-qa) runs until 9th May at The Blue Room Theatre.
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