…And a few more. Happy New Year (English). Gelukkig Nieuw Jaar (Dutch). Bonne année (French). Have a wonderful ones dear friends. I hope 2013 brings us closer, forges new relationships and sees us fulfilled. I’m drawing up my resolutions, which must include partying. As in hosting more parties, and get-togethers with families and friends. And so for New Year’s Day, we started on that one in style – by hosting a Brunch for two families, in line with our new family tradition of Sunday Brunch. My key priorities were twofold: recipes that could be made-ahead – days before and on the...
Preparing for Christmas: Nigerian Salad
Nigerian salad. An oxymoron. One I think about, sitting in the lounge and waiting for the boarding announcement for I am well and truly on my way home. Home to Nigeria. To my husband, and children and the December heat. To a Christmas feast, of gifts and presents and maybe even food, which may not be cooked by me with my Christmas eve return. I didn’t do half the Christmas food shopping I wanted to do here – I wanted to take back fresh cranberries and brussel sprouts, Meyer lemons and Philadelphia cheese. But……its fine. I’m learning to live…with without disappointment...
Preparing for Christmas: Nigerian ‘Stir-Fried’ Jollof Rice
Here’s an update on a Nigerian classic: Stir-fried Jollof rice. And this isn’t to buck tradition – this is about how travel shapes who we are, opens up our eyes to new possibilities and redefines our boundaries. For Nigerian Jollof is typically ‘stewed’, not stir-fried or oven-baked. Right now, Nigerians the world over are planning their Christmas meals, and clothes. They are wondering how they’ll spice the fried chicken, and how the Jollof (rice) must have that ‘smoky’ flavour, thanks to socarrat, or bottom pot as we call it in Nigeria. They have also picked out special clothes and shoes for the day. The...
Filipino Fruit Salad: Virtue in a Can
I know, tinned foods aren’t virtuous, especially from ‘self-proclaimed’ foodies. Mind you, that’s not me talking, that’s the ‘Voice of the world’. Because I know better. I know that virtue can be earned in a myriad of ways: fresh, frozen and canned. Like everything else, they have their time and place, their season.
Feasting at Norma’s Table
At Norma’s Mesa, there is love and friendship and absolutely gorgeous food at Norma’s table. At Norma’s table, the lights of Manhattan twinkle and twinkle, stunning guests, at Norma’s table. At Norma’s table, there’s laughter, lots and lots of it. There’s wit too, the reason for the laughter, at Norma’s Mesa. —–00000—– I burst out laughing, shortly after touchdown at John F. Kennedy airport. It had been a long flight. I’d slept well though and awoken refreshed. At the gate, I turned on my telephone to an email from Norma of Platanos, Mangoes and Me – the reason for the laughter....
Thrifty in New York: Housing Works
Its been years since I went to a Thrift store. OK, only a year or two. I had to redress that and what better place to do it ladies & gentlemen than in the great city of New York? Like I’ve said before, eternal gratitude goes to Anna Hezel of Cup & Hammer, and Food52 for making me cotton on to bargains of the best sort at Housing Works‘ Gramecy Store on East 23rd street – only one of many in the city. I found the closest one to Kalustyan’s and went my merry way.
See What Heaven Sent….
Good evening, America. Looked what heaven sent, right before Christmas.
Lunch At Kalustyan’s
I am on the train to Grand Central, refreshed by winter’s air and shine. Heading to Kalustyan’s for Lunch. Its amazing how I’m loving the cold. When we moved away from The Netherlands, my husband and I agreed there would be no more winter holidays, no snow, no ice….no freezing cold. At least for the next 4 years, till we (possibly) move again.But now in the heart of winter’s cool, and after 12 months in the sun, in the tropical heat, I’m not sure if warm holidays are entirely it.I know I say this because blizzards aren’t here, because the winds...
Cucumber Fried Eggs
Meet Cucumber, the fruit and the vegetable. At least in Nigeria, it is. On the right fork where Old Aba road meets the Aba expressway in my city of Port Harcourt, women sit on wooden stools and chairs, selling wares. These squat seats, close to the ground keeps them close to their planks full of cucumber pyramids. Cucumbers stacked in threes to form long, geometric shapes. On an evening drive home, I might see men and women, tired after a hard day’s work, snacking on cucumbers. For in Port Harcourt, cucumbers are both fruit and vegetable. They are plentiful, refreshing and...