I’ve been meaning to give Nora a proper intro for ages now so, finally, this is she. Hello Nora. Reasons given are: she’s a great cook, a firm farmhand and a good soul. She also has a toothless smile, a grip to cripple you and the ability to make kubdari (Georgian flatbreads stuffed with spiced beef or
Armenia. What a beauty. We’ve arrived in the south after getting a straight three-hour ride to a roadside in the middle of nowhere. The sun is shining, turning arid landscape golden. Some men sell potatoes. Me and my new travelling companion, Cina, are trying to get to a village, some three kilometres from here. We
Check out these walnuts! These are whole unshelled walnuts, soaked and cooked until the hard shell becomes soft and edible. Bite into one and you can see how the shell encases the whole walnut inside. Who knew? In Armenia, popoki murabba appears on the table with breakfast or a pot of tea; whole glistening black
Mornings in Svaneti, high up in the Georgian mountains, follow a slow rhythm. It’s a purposeful rhythm, but unhurried, methodical, each person with their job to do. Chabu chops wood, old Nora stokes the fire, Zaza brings in the eggs and a bucket of potatoes, the cows are milked, coffee made, the ducks and piglets
Steaming pans of scrambled eggs and fried chanterelles, piles of eggy bread with lashings of creamy cheese and ajvar, doughy bread fritters with sweet jam and – my favourite – oozy, rich cicvara (pronounced seets-vuh-ruh)… Bosnian breakfasts are meant to be approached with an empty stomach and the willingness to fill it. They are, much
I’ve fallen in love with Georgian khinkali. Soft, juicy, wonton-like dumplings, with a thick, doughy outer layer encasing herby ground meat, potato or cheese. It seems the entire Georgian population share this obsession. You can eat khinkali everywhere. But go into the northern mountains that surround the villages of Kazbegi and Pasanauri where they say they taste best. Probably because
There is more to this picture than what immediately meets the eye, and a rough reminder that not all is glossy in rural life. I’ve spent much of this week in Svaneti, a secluded region in the mountains of northernmost Georgia – a place that is truly untouched by the tramples of modern life. Villages
I had a bit of an emosh moment this week. It was at a parade with 7000 others to celebrate food that is good, clean and fair. There were 140 countries there, from places as far apart as Japan and Albania, Congo and Indonesia, Afghanistan and Mexico, and everyone was marching together for the sole
Daily markets are a thing to behold. Colourful, unpretentious, local affairs that are there simply because the demand exists. I took this picture in a small town called Trebinje in Herzegovina. Every day I’d find local producers selling the season’s fruit and vegetables, local cheeses – especially kaymak and ‘cheese in a sack‘ – olives, olive oil,