Food is a symbol of living memory. The Language of Baklava is at once a memoir and a cookbook: Food and cooking are at the heart of the book and of Diana’s life. She says in the Foreword that the stories of her childhood “were often in some way about food, and the food always turned out to be about something much larger: grace, difference, faith, love” (xi). Food represents many events, memories, emotions, and desires and can therefore never be separated from experience.

Diana writes the recipes themselves in a way that indicates their importance at specific points in time. Each recipe has a title or subheading explaining its use or association: “Bud’s Special Rice for Special Company” (29), “Subsistence Tabbouleh For when everything is falling apart and there is no time to cook” (143), etc. The ingredients are generous: plenty of oil, garlic, salt, and whatever will make the dish as rich and flavorful as needed. The instructions are written in prose rather than list form. They are informal and not technical, assuming some knowledge of cookery and trusting the reader to know what they are doing. Some include personal touches: “Bud recommends that you sing softly to the cooking, so you don’t rush” (21).