Flavors of Solidarity: World Refugee Day Cooking Workshop and Shared Dinner at Hana Corner Café in Tirana

 In the lead-up to World Refugee Day, the garden behind Hana Corner Café on a quiet, tree-lined street in Tirana, with its sunny yellow walls and simple black sign, felt more welcoming than ever. It became a gathering place for refugees living in Albania, curious neighbours and regulars alike, all eager to share an afternoon of food, music and solidarity.

That morning, café owner Uarda opened her kitchen for a special workshop, welcoming refugees, Albanians and anyone, regardless of background, who had seen the notice on the café’s walls in the days leading up to the event. “Hana’s always been a place to connect,” Uarda smiled. “Today, our walls and our hearts are wide open.”

Several participants, some lifelong Tirana residents, others newly arrived, gathered at two workstations: at one, refugee chef Nesreen guided helpers through Basbousa; at the other, Ritaj led the making of her family’s Uzi.

Basbousa with Nesreen

Refugee chef Nesreen, born in the Yarmouk refugee camp on the outskirts of Damascus and granted protection in Albania six years ago, led participants through every step of making basbousa, a traditional Middle Eastern semolina cake soaked in syrup. 

She measured semolina and grated coconut into a bowl, cracked in eggs and a splash of vegetable oil, then sprinkled in sugar, baking powder and a hint of vanilla before folding the mixture into a pan. As the cakes baked to a golden brown, she prepared a fragrant syrup of water, sugar and milk. As she pressed each piece, Nesreen recalled her first impression of Tirana. “I thought Albania was just a stop,” she said, “but it’s become my home.”

Uzi with Ritaj

At the next station, Ritaj, a Syrian refugee rebuilding her life in Albania with her six-year-old daughter at her side, introduced workshop participants to her family’s Uzi recipe layers of rice, spiced ground meat and toasted almonds, each scoop perfumed with cinnamon and cardamom. “These spices,” she told the circle, are the scent of my mother’s kitchen. Sharing them is how I say thank you for welcoming me to Albania.”

Shawarma from Ali Baba

Just as the ovens cooled, trays of shawarma arrived from Ali Baba, the fast-food spot run by Iraqi refugee D’hia and his wife. Guests dipped tender meat wrapped in flatbread into tangy yoghurt sauce, embracing the same spirit of hospitality that once helped D’hia find his footing.

A Feast of Solidarity

With plates piled high, the crowd gathered in the garden. Uzi, shawarma, Basbousa and glasses of lemonade formed a vibrant mosaic of flavours and textures. One guest, Xhesina, bit into Uzi and smiled. “One taste,” she said, “and I felt connected to Ritaj’s story.” Nearby, children darted between tables, their laughter weaving through conversations.

As dusk settled, the mood shifted once more. Refugee children stepped into the centre and sang a simple welcome song in Albanian. Applause rippled through the garden—genuine and unprompted—sealing the evening’s unspoken promise: when a community pulls up a chair for one another, every story, no matter how far it’s travelled, finds a place to belong.