I interview 80-year-old Dee from south Wales who likes her pwdin reis with black skin on it. Rice pudding was once eaten for Sunday dinner all over Wales, slow-cooked overnight to make use of a hot oven after baking bread.
Realities of a rural life
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
What food should be
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
A daily affair
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,
A Balkan relish
The first time I had ajvar (pronounced ayvar) it was dolloped on a plastic plate with a hunk of cold pork and white bread. I was in a Slovenian village at the local men’s club – essentially a community centre with a bar in it – where every Friday the village men came to play boules, drink Lasko
Morning rituals
Pod beans, sip coffee, pod more beans, chit chat, sip more coffee, chit chat, coffee, chit chat. This week, I had the real pleasure of staying with this lovely woman, Mira, in the middle of the northern Bosnian countryside. We got up early, the air still cool and fresh and we sat down with a cup of coffee
Istria, Slovenia
My brief month in the Istrian region of Slovenia – the south-western part that borders Croatia and the sea – has been a good one. I’ve been busy eating to be honest, and for that reason, I’m sorry for not writing sooner. It’s a hard life! (sorry, someone shoot me). It’s tricky to pin Slovenia
Soup in Slovenia
This is Vida. It occurred to me that her name means life in Spanish, which is fitting because Vida is full of it. She’s the oldest member of the Slovenian family I’ve just spent a week with, and she’s now my adopted grandmother too. Vida has lived in her house on a mountain in southern Slovenia for
The simple life
I couldn’t very well leave Italy without banging on about pasta first. I love pasta. It’s simple and inexpensive, and comes into its own only when few ingredients are used – Italy’s answer to eating frugally. Italians have an innate ability to do it well. They know the rules and stick by them. When I was
Soil and soul
Soil. I’ve never seen, talked about and moved so much of the stuff as I have in the past couple of weeks. My second workaway has brought me and Ben to the Prosecco hillsides of Veneto in north-east Italy. It’s a beautiful background for what became a fortnight of adequately hard labour. We dug holes, planted
Stalks and all
Fresh herbs are great. When all you have are a few back-of-fridge ingredients, herbs are the stuff to reach for. Finely chop and sprinkle them on a hot bowl of yesterday’s rice, chop them up with oil and drizzle over fried eggs or bash them into a pesto and spread over hot toast. These are delicious meals at little