It’s never the same. No year is similar to the one it follows or the one it proceeds. Each year brings different experiences, new joys, new sorrow, new lessons. It’s all in how you perceive it.
Three years ago around this time, I was planning and working on starting this blog. I started it without any prospect on how it will grow or what will happen to it. I still kind of don’t, but I’m still blogging for the joy of it. Continue reading
What is it with Christmas and truffles?
There is something about these two.
They both bring joy.
Now that you’ve had your rage with the #Fattouch / #FatDouche case which turned up to a dead end, let me unleash my rage against something more important and deserves blocking roads, burning flags, demonstrations, protests and some vegetables chopping. TABBOULEH! (i have to note the sarcastic tone, because sometimes things are only funny in my head)
I am a Tabbouleh extremist. It kills me to watch a chef massacring what he/she claims to be the real tabbouleh from the middle east (and I will not specify the country of origin because that’s a whole different debate)
Vacation is over but memories linger.
I will try not to get carried away and reduce the blabber and the storms of thoughts in my head so that I’m able to sum up my vacation, in which I will be surely not giving justice.
I have shared photos on Instagram of food, places and people. Many others were not shared, especially those taken using the camera. As I sort the images now, I recall the memories and the feelings and try to express them here in plain text.
This impulsive trip took a really good turn. It gave me wonderful moments in a breathtaking country (from what I saw and chose to preserve in my memory) for its landscapes, sceneries, people, culture, and of course food. At most times, it took my mind away from all the worries I got there with. I was hungry for new things, for a break from the routine and it was nothing short of that.
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A recipe requires the coherence of many elements. Getting orgasmic results from a recipe is the fruit of love, patience, care and quality ingredients. Sometimes you cook something out of the need to eat. And regardless of the quality, it will be something good to chew on and fill your tummy with but never repeat. Other times the recipe is amazing; simply enjoyable you want to make it over and over again. Yet each time is different from the other. My biggest fear was for the recipe to fail. Although I don’t usually follow the rules completely but I keep hoping it’ll work. The worst feeling is when your fear materializes in front of you. The time and effort happily spent turns into anxiety and panic. You know you messed up at one point but keep hoping it’ll work. You keep hoping that with some sugar, spice and nice things it’ll be edible. But when it’s done, it’s over and done. Continue reading
Cook in Five Square Meters 