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Month: August 2017

How far would you go for what you believe in?

Posted in Life & Love

It’s been a bizarre week. On Wednesday, I sat in a hushed room listening to an 82-year-old Holocaust survivor talk about her experience for 90 minutes straight: her move into the Lvov ghetto when she was five; hiding in a basement for two weeks; her father securing fake Aryan papers for her and her mother; the flight to the countryside, then to Sweden once the Soviets invaded; her eventual passage to the United States and all the harrowing details in between.

Vegan coffee ice-cream I actually like

Posted in Food & Entertaining

In her old age, my mother has developed a sweet tooth I strain to keep up with. She especially loves ice-cream, which I like but hardly ever crave. After stocking up with some store-bought varieties, I decided I would make her some, possibly healthier than the milk-cream-sugar-egg combination.

The death of high street fashion?

Posted in Style & Travel

I find more and more excuses not to go into Santa Monica in the Summer – this year seems to be worse than ever, with throngs of people to rival Venice, Italy, traffic that snarls at snail’s pace and fellow drivers ready to knife any rivals for a parking spot. As far as I am concerned, I can wait to go to Santa Monica until next October.

Farinata

Posted in Food & Entertaining

If it seems like I am on a gluten-free pizza quest, it is entirely coincidental. When I want pizza, I eat real pizza (or make it at home). But I do love different bases for different toppings. This week it was the turn of chickpeas flour, in an effort to use up the different flours I buy, experiment with once and then sit in my pantry until I happen to remember them.

The magic of words

Posted in Life & Love

I am not a great writer. Not a particularly good one either but I do have a firm belief – even utter reverence – for words. Whenever I come across a beautiful sentence, a string of words arranged in an unusual or striking manner, I can bask in it at length, reading and re-reading it, going back to it, letting it swirl in my head. Sometimes  I can be more attached to individual sentences than to a whole body of work.

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