Too cold for running in German as sleet stings my face. I skate across snow-packed surfaces smoothed by sledges. I skip over small mounds where grass strains through. I stumble when I sink in surprises of deep white. As gusts of wind constantly sear my cheeks. All I can do is yank my hat down and pull … More Snow run in English (it’s too cold for German)
Snow run number 2, featuring my favourite Treeo. And a welcome pitstop at Otto’s coffee house. Before the snowball fight begins. I love them, but when will they go back to school? Schneelauf Nummer 1 here.
Suzanne and I meet in a café in Tunbridge Wells as I’m curious about her food venture (I’m hoping for a za’atar lesson too). Her daughter, Vera, is here to help with translation, although by the end of our meeting, Suzanne’s ready sense of humour persuades me that she understands more English than she thinks … More Al Bet Betak
I’m training for Berlin so I’m running in German. It’s a Schneelauf (snow run). I’m walking with my daughter so I’m talking in English. It’s a snow walk. I’m home warming up with a chocolate brownie bake-up. Good in any language.
A drizzly-damp day brightened by a trip to The Tulip Tree. Coffee, lunch and quirky furniture. Cakes and muffins galore. And a shop with fresh produce just next door. I’m in a bit of a mood, it’s fair to say. Monday blues. Dull day doldrums. Weekend promise of Spring 🌞 🌷 denied 🌧😔. So it’s just as … More The Tulip Tree
I got to be a spy in Otto’s, but I pretended to be a fly on the wall. It was warm and steamy, there was yin, there was yang, and there was talk of vacuum-packed frankfurters. I ignored Trump and enjoyed brunch. And finally I sat in The Armchair. http://weareottos.com/the-blog/
Sun, sea, sand – right on your retro red (or green ice or mustard) doorstep. Somehow it works out that our teenaged boys get the cherry red vintage caravan while the rest of us get the (very nice) mobile home. We girls gush over their cute-fruit cushions, while the boys chuck bags on beds to claim … More Sun, Sea, Sand – Camping Miramar
A surprising shift from the daily routine (a tiny but potent tweak), and suddenly I own my day more than it has sworn to own me. So I run out in the winter-rare sunshine to meet it. A twist in events could occur at any time – I know that – so I sit in … More Simple Serendipity
I’m feeling tired and fed up. I may even have sniffed back a tear. It doesn’t matter why – things have just got to me. I lie to the kids: I say I am “Fine.” But they know I am not. I throw off my apron in a bit of a grump; it has been … More Sweet Spice
In the Levant (so I’ve heard), people take their own za’atar to the local baker, where it is mixed with olive oil, then smeared onto flatbread dough and baked for a few minutes until crispy brown but with a lovely softness inside. These manakish (or man’ousheh in the singular) are very good for breakfast. Za’atar is both … More Making Manakish