They’ll throw the fish heads in the bin if I don’t buy them. I stick them in the freezer to use in soups. They’re full of flavour, says Nolda. Read on for Nolda’s very frugal fish soup with Jamaican dumplings.
“But in the homes, not only of the Turks but also of the Serbs, nothing was changed. They lived, worked and amused themselves in the old way. Bread was still mixed in kneading troughs, coffee roasted on the hearth, clothes steamed in coppers and washed with soda which hurt the women’s fingers.” – Ivo Andric, The
We’d been driving for at least an hour in a bulletproof 4×4 heading south of Yerevan. Our driver, a surly man who proffered persimmons and sweets, was heading home to Armenia’s contested and highly militarised Karabach region in the south. Our village stop was on his way. An Orthodox cross swung on a string of
“Eternal Albania, bearing its tragic destiny with dignity, as he had come to know it not only from its epic poetry but also from the inn up there” – The File on H, Ismail Kadare It’s not the church bells that ring in the beginning of a new day, but the familiar methodical toll of
I’m fussing, as my kids would tell you I do best. Slightly worried about having the food photographs, I am a home cook!? Judy writes. We’ve spoken on the phone and exchanged a few emails and I’m due to visit her at her home in south Wales with Maria Bell, a photographer friend of mine.
It’s the sweet, mellow smell of heating milk that hits you first. That and the warmth of a just stoked fire, bringing sharp relief from the chill in the rest of the house and a sign that the day has begun. It takes a second to locate the source of such welcome comforts until you
The other reason women wanted daughters was to keep their memories alive. My mother and my mother-aunties told me endless stories about themselves. No matter what their hands were doing – holding babies, cooking, spinning, weaving – they filled my ears. – The Red Tent, Anita Diamant This is to heal a sore throat, you drink
It was still daybreak when I took off. I passed by the orchards, made the rounds of the beaches, gained a fleeting acquaintance with the locale’s water, soil and air, and collected fragrant wild herbs that made my palms smell of savoury, sage and pennyroyal – Zorba The Greek The Spring Equinox has just passed
The pestle and mortar is as rudimentary in the Thai kitchen as a kettle is in the UK, and already Jan Son is pounding out its familiar rhythms into a fragrant paste of chillies, galangal, salt and garlic. Of the meals I share with this family in rural northern Thailand, chilli mixes of varying strength,