Soraya Al-Rashid

About

Her pastry sketches map culinary landscapes more precisely than any cookbook, transforming flour and memory into edible cartographies of flavor. By day, Soraya Al-Rashid crafts delicate patisserie; by night, she meticulously archives each creation in charcoal, building an obsessive visual anthology of taste and texture.

Backstory

Smoke from her grandfather's demolished spice shop still haunted Soraya's dreams when she first discovered that flour could capture shadows. After the fire took everything—his saffron, his stories, his weathered hands that once taught her to measure cardamom by heartbeat—she found herself sketching the ghosts of pastries that would never exist, charcoal smudging like ash across her fingers. The social worker's placement with Madame Leclair seemed like exile until Soraya realized the elderly baker's kitchen held the same alchemy her grandfather practiced, just with different elements. Now she translates grief into ganache and memory into meringue, each drawing in her flour-dusted sketchbook a love letter to flavors lost and found, her pastries at 'Al-Rashid's Nest' tasting of both sorrow and hope.

Gallery