A Change Rooted in Purpose
If you had told me two decades ago that I would trade in my lab coat for a butcher’s apron and a grocery store’s inventory list, I might’ve laughed it off. My career as a pharmacist was fulfilling in many ways. I had worked hard through school—first earning my degree in chemistry from Cal Poly Pomona, then a Doctor of Pharmacy from the University of the Pacific. Becoming a licensed pharmacist in 1994 was a proud moment. But even during those early days, there was a part of me that felt pulled toward something else—something more personal and entrepreneurial.
Pharmacy gave me stability, a respected career, and a chance to help people. But what it didn’t give me was the joy of creating something of my own. I’d always had a passion for food—rooted in memories of my childhood, where the kitchen was the heart of every celebration. That passion simmered quietly in the background until the right opportunity came along.
From Storefront to Story
In 2005, I heard about a small grocery store for sale in my San Diego neighborhood. At first glance, it didn’t seem like much. The space was modest, the selection limited, and the customer base small. But I saw potential. I saw a blank canvas waiting to be filled with flavors from around the world—especially the ones I grew up with and missed seeing in local markets.
Buying that store wasn’t just a business decision—it was a leap of faith. I was leaving behind the predictability of pharmacy for the uncertainty of retail. But I believed deeply that if I could create a place where people could find authentic, high-quality ingredients from the Middle East, the Mediterranean, Eastern Europe, and beyond, the community would respond.
I poured myself into every detail—sourcing products, redesigning the layout, hiring a team that understood our mission. Over time, Balboa International Market grew, not just in size but in spirit. We doubled our floor space, expanded our inventory, and became a trusted destination for hard-to-find ingredients and warm hospitality.
Building a Cultural Hub
What started as a neighborhood grocery store became something more: a gathering place. It wasn’t just about shopping—it was about belonging. People came not just to buy feta or lavash or fresh herbs, but to feel connected to their roots, to share stories, to pass traditions to the next generation.
One of the most powerful things I’ve experienced since opening the market is seeing the joy in someone’s face when they find a product they haven’t seen since childhood. Whether it’s a specific type of rice, a jar of pickled vegetables, or a box of tea from their homeland, these small details matter. They carry memories, and in some cases, they bridge generations.
This connection inspired me to grow further—to create not just a market but a full culinary experience. That’s how Sufi Mediterranean Cuisine was born.
A Natural Next Step
Starting the restaurant was a dream that had been building for years. I wanted a place where the ingredients we sold in the market could be transformed into dishes that honored their roots while also feeling accessible to everyone. Sufi became a place where flavors met storytelling—where a plate of kebab, a bowl of ash-e reshteh, or a piece of baklava wasn’t just food, but heritage.
I didn’t go into the restaurant business lightly. I knew it was hard work—long hours, tight margins, and endless logistics. But I also knew that sharing food is one of the most direct ways to build community. Just like the market, the restaurant has become a place where people from all backgrounds come together, not just to eat but to connect.
Feeding My Community, Heart First
What I’ve learned in this journey is that “feeding” a community means more than filling plates or stocking shelves. It means paying attention to what people need—culturally, emotionally, spiritually. It means honoring tradition while embracing diversity. It means showing up every day with a commitment to quality and care.
When I was a pharmacist, I helped people heal. Now, through the market and restaurant, I help people feel at home. The methods are different, but the purpose is the same: service, connection, and making life a little better for those around me.
There are days I miss the structured environment of a pharmacy, but they’re rare. What I’ve gained in exchange is something much richer: the ability to shape a business that reflects my values and creates space for others to feel seen, heard, and nourished.
I don’t know what the next chapter holds, but I do know that I’ll keep building on what we’ve created. Whether it’s expanding our catering services, partnering with local schools, or adding new products to the market, I’m always thinking about how we can serve more meaningfully.
People sometimes ask me if I regret leaving pharmacy. The answer is no. I’m grateful for everything that path gave me, especially the discipline and focus it taught me. But this new path—this life of food, culture, and community—is where I was always meant to be.
Sometimes, the most fulfilling journeys begin with a quiet tug at the heart. I listened to mine, and it led me here.