Christmas, for those of us who revel in the kitchen, is a battlefield. It’s where we flex, where we bleed, and where we pour every ounce of ourselves into meals that people will talk about until the next snow falls. The house is too quiet. The last echoes of clinking glasses and scraping forks have…
Goa’s beach huts are not for everyone. They aren’t polished resorts or boutique hotels. No sleek infinity pools or white-linen tablecloths here. Instead, these makeshift shacks, teetering on the edge of collapse, are the kind of places that might turn off anyone too squeamish about splinters, rust, or the general aesthetic of a post-apocalyptic settlement….
There are places that transcend the mere act of dining—where the food, the ambiance, and the people come together in an alchemy that borders on the magical. The Love Shack, perched on the golden sands of Calangute Beach, is one of those places. You don’t stumble upon the Love Shack by accident. You find it…
There’s something undeniably electric about boarding a plane bound for Goa. The very name conjures images of vivid spice markets, sun-drenched beaches, and the smoky allure of fish curry simmering on a wood-fired stove. I’ve spent years dreaming of this moment, tracing the flavors and stories that first ignited my obsession with Indian cuisine. Today,…
Christmas is a time for breaking bread, clinking glasses, and filling the room with that glorious symphony of voices rising in laughter and good-natured debate. It’s a time when the heart grows larger, the table stretches longer, and chairs are pulled in for anyone who wanders by. There’s a magic to Christmas that isn’t found…
There’s something enduring about a family recipe. It’s not just food; it’s a map of a life lived well, seasoned with joy and sadness, love and loss, generations of laughter, and the bittersweet passage of time. For 93 years, my mother-in-law—Nana, as everyone affectionately calls her—has been the keeper of one such treasure: her famous…
Growing your own food is like alchemy—a dirty, messy magic trick where soil and time conjure sustenance. But growing a lion’s mane mushroom? That’s culinary sorcery of the highest order. This wasn’t just a mushroom; it was a creature from another world, an alien spore that would become my obsession. I had read about lion’s…
Somewhere in the heart of Vendée, on an evening that smelled like pine and lavender, I sat at my cousin Hélène’s table. Hélène—a master in the kitchen, a sort of culinary sorceress who could coax joy out of the simplest ingredients—had outdone herself. We’d feasted on roasted meats, delicate vegetables, wine that kept appearing in…
Elske was one of those people who seemed born to make others feel at home. She had a rare warmth that wrapped around you like an old sweater—well-worn but never tired. Elske’s presence, much like her cooking, was straightforward, comforting, and surprisingly layered. Her signature potato casserole dish was an unassuming masterpiece that felt both…
There are people you meet on a journey who feel less like strangers and more like long-lost friends—the kind of person who makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, you knew each other in another life. Jurgen was that kind of guy. A towering, bear-like German with a voice like rolling thunder and a heart…