Looking over to the corner with fresh rosemary needles, water boiling, and garlic seeming right — as medicine, and as joy to the palate

— the pestle in the mortar created this dense paste which later dissolved in a small bath of fine olive oil, before the nine minutes expired for the spaghetti, and just before being wrapped in taste and aroma…

A side of coffee

Its leaves were anciently prepared as wine, its fruit as infusion, and the seeds have been roasted and brewed for centuries. Yet, I still like what it offers as spice out of the mortar. The sudden idea was to make a portrait out of a single coffee seed. It came as I prepared for my… Continue reading A side of coffee

Moods around a reduced fig

The figs were bought for the fact that they are figs. What to do with them, and how to prepare them, that was secondary. A couple of days ago they were on my plate as a contrast to the polish sausage, after being in a long heat bath with spices until the vodka was reduced.… Continue reading Moods around a reduced fig

Repetition is a form of change

The past, and the next second, the experience, and the hunger, joy, and its intermittent absence, everything, everything seems to be the resilience which demands repetition, not to preserve life but to live it — in composed sounds, in uttered words and their placement, in the gentle push to invest mind, spirit, and flesh, even… Continue reading Repetition is a form of change

On a somewhat guacamole way

In given amounts and ratio, ingredients will yield culturally expected results. And yet, they remain their own essence, and a greatness in food and the palate experience is that a culture may dictate on a certain dish, and the individual may be a scientific or creative visionary but each ingredient its independent dimension. Tomato, avocado,… Continue reading On a somewhat guacamole way