As told by me. And in alphabetical order.
And yes, 11 days in a country makes me an expert. Of sorts.
Local names are written in italics and I’ve done my best to share the correct pronunciations.
Where available, I’ve included photographs – enjoy!
As told by me. And in alphabetical order.
And yes, 11 days in a country makes me an expert. Of sorts.
Local names are written in italics and I’ve done my best to share the correct pronunciations.
Where available, I’ve included photographs – enjoy!
Holland, my sweet Holland
Soon I shall see you no more
How is it that time so quickly goes by?
And now I return
To Nigeria, my beloved Homeland
Name that dish.
I say it goes by many appellations. It starts off as ‘Poor planning results in burnt paella’ and quickly transforms itself to the ‘Husband’s most requested dish’.
No mean feat, considering that husband has no long term, short-term memory when it comes to meals.
This month’s Daring Cooks challenge is brought to you by a very weary Traveller Jane. Weary in body but not in mind, soul or belly. So weary and a touch under the weather, that this daring cook stayed in on Saturday, fresh off a flight from the US of A, huddled on the couch watching Masterchef Australia while the shops stayed open and all the fresh white fish sold itself.
I have a dream…………
Vague. Undefined. Free. At liberty to do anything on arrival.
All I wanted to do was go to Berlin and I did.
It was a last minute trip – new Nigerian legislation called for all citizens, home and abroad to have the new electronic passport. For me, this was critical with business trips planned which would require visas, I knew I had to act fast. The Nigerian embassy in the Netherlands couldn’t issue the passports, don’t ask why, please! The alternative – Paris or Berlin. One phone call later, Berlin was the only option, as there were issues in the Parisian office. So over the weekend, we filled in forms online and got an interview date for a short 7 days away.
It’s a strange and wonderful life when all a girl thinks of in Paris is yogurt. Pots. Because the French are up there with the Greeks and Turks in making super delicious, thick-set yogurt as this young lady (me) found out recently. In my fine opinion, they beat all the competition primarily because of the fine receptacles the said dairy comes in, arguably the finest glass and glazed terracotta pots ‘moi’ has ever seen.
And I’m not the only one who thinks so, Carolyn Jung of Food Gal says:
See that creamy, dreamy yogurt above? (She shows a photo)
People drive miles and miles for it. Because once you’ve had full-fat French yogurt, there’s no going back.