HeyJaredSama's Substack
Lessons learnt whilst travelling around the world without leaving London.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
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- Sep 25, 2026
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- Aug 7, 2026
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The three best Persian restaurants in London (according to the most qualified person to tell you this) (opens the original)
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I love Persian food. Until I was 13-14, it was pretty much all I knew. My mum would only cook traditional meals, and when we’d rarely go out to eat, it would be Kebab Koobideh at a Persian restaurant. I migrated to London from Tehran when I was three – so I’ve spent my entire life since then eating at Persian restaurants in the city. You could say I’ve done 24 years of research for this story.My strict criteriaA Persian restaurant is not just a restaurant. It has to be a place of refuge. For man
I spent 48 hours travelling through Jewish London. This is everything I learnt, ate and my full itinerary (opens the original)
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‘Ugh, it doesn’t fit!’ a Charedi woman complains to her mum through the changing room. I’m inside a Charedi women’s fashion store on Stamford Hill. They’re strict Jews who organise every aspect of their lives around Jewish law. In terms of women’s clothing, this means modesty: loose-fitting long skirts and dresses, long sleeves, high necklines. And if you’re married, you must cover your hair – either with a wig, or with fabric.There’s two mums chatting about last weekend in the queue, a couple o
Please don’t just speak English – who cares if you’re in England? (opens the original)
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I live in London, but the first language I hear when I step out of my home is Bengali – makes sense, there are at least three Bengali shops on my street. I walk a little further. Now I’m at the bus stop. I often hear Somali – there’s a big community here. A mum and kid chat together, I can’t understand them, and then I eventually get to the tube. Now it’s up to London to see what I’ll hear. I’ve called this city home for 24 years, and as a result have probably heard half the world’s languages in
i refuse to learn how to drive. why should i? i live in london (opens the original)
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I had an ex-boyfriend who lived in a village. I think village is too kind a word. It was a tiny, serene place on the English-Welsh border. On a good sunny day, you could look out the window and mistake yourself kidnapped – a gorgeous valley, a clear blue river, rolling hills – who suddenly Jumanji’d me into a computer homescreen? But there was a fateful error with this place. They didn’t have a pub. Let alone a proper shop. The church was derelict, practically just a graveyard. This is a big dea
I didn't know what it felt like to be a minority until I got a job in the media (opens the original)
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It’s my first day at my big girl job in journalism, and I’m getting an office tour. Here’s the sports desk, she gestures to the left. There is news, she gestures to the right. I walk through – but I’m not focusing on that. I’m trying to count the number of ethnic minorities in this newsroom. I had grown up watching glamourised 2000s journalism movies, but all I saw was a load of white men in their 50s. I walked through over a hundred people. It didn’t reach two hands. This newspaper wasn’t even
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