As I make my way to the centre—which looks confusingly like a church—a woman passes me, holding a traditional Turkish dessert.

It's three o'clock when I jump off my bike at The Bridge Centre, a community centre in Nottingham's Hyson Green area. I'm spending the afternoon with Salaam Shalom Kitchen , a new project that aims to bring together Nottingham's Jewish and Muslim communities through the preparation of food.

"Are you here to volunteer?" she asks. "I can't stay this week, it's Ramadan in the morning!"

The weekly cafe has been serving meals for just a few weeks, but word of their work has already spread around the city. Tonight, we're catering for 60 people, all of whom are served three courses for free, regardless of religion or ability to pay.

"We don't call it a soup kitchen," he explains, as ingredients are ushered quickly into the kitchen. "We want to make it so that everyone feels equal, as we are. We're building a community, not acting out of pity."

I'm met by Farouk Azam, a community organiser in Hyson Green and active member of Himmah, the Muslim led charity that co-organises the project.

The small open kitchen at the end of the hall is a hive of activity as this week's chef, Shirley Hocking, briefs her team of volunteers on the service that's to follow.

"Both the Jewish and Muslim communities face prejudice from parts of our society," Azam tells me, when I ask why he volunteers there. "Preparing food gives you a chance to get talking to other people, you interact and get to know each other. Food brings people together."

The chefs and their gang change on a weekly basis, but each team includes both Jewish and Muslim volunteers. On the menu tonight is a roasted red pepper and basil soup, followed by jacket potatoes with a vegetarian chili.

"We have two hours of cooking to do," Hocking explains as the volunteers pick up their knives. "And service starts at 6 PM."

Away from the kitchen, two volunteers, John Youens and an older man who is introduced to me as Dr. Roaf, take a break from prepping courgettes.

Dishes are always strictly vegetarian, which makes the dietary rules of Kashrut and Halal far simpler to navigate. There are plans to expand to cooking traditional dishes from each faith, but it seems that this week's chef has kept it simple: a healthy dinner made with fresh ingredients at just £1 per head. The Kitchen hopes that keeping their costs down will allow them to continue running project.

"Us too!" says Youens. "The Sabbath meal is the highlight of our week."

"Food has always, through our history, been a focal point," Roaf explains to Youens, as they discuss their respective cultures. "It's one of the things that God has given to us. We sit down with our family and eat. It's the same in both communities and could have pulled us together all along."

Strictly to time, by 5 PM prep is over and the volunteers sit together, grasping cups of tea. I'm soon called into the kitchen to sample the soup, which is sprinkled with parsley and drizzled with generous amounts of cream.

As the room begins to fill up for 6 PM service, Rabbi Tanya Sakhnovich's teenage son dons an apron, transforming into an impromptu maître d' for the evening. Jacket potatoes submerged with chili fly out of the kitchen.

"Poverty leads to isolation and shame," Bilal Hussain, another Himmah organiser tells me in the midst of the busy service. "This project puts put people in a situation where they meet the primary need of eating, but can also relax and chat to other people, which makes our lives worth living."