“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
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
Baladi is an important word in Palestine. It sits somewhere between the English words of local, original, from-the-village and authentic. It is tied to notions of place and belonging, and it’s a word that’s used a lot. This is baladi food, I was often told. It’s Palestinian, it’s from here. Baladi food, in a land
It’s been a few weeks since I got back from this six-month trip and I’m still digesting it all. It was incredible really. Getting back to basics, living in nature, staying on farms and in eco-communities, learning from people who live completely different lives, cooking local food and eating eating eating. For the majority of
There is no good reason to throw onion peelings straight to the compost. The robes of a humble onion serve a far nobler purpose, and that is to make boiled eggs taste (and look) better. This is a new discovery for me, and one that I learnt at my latest workaway in Israel. I’ve been spending my days with
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