There are so many good reasons to make your own granola. First of all, it’s way too easy to not be making it yourself. Secondly, you can custom make it exactly how you and your lovies like it. Lastly, it’s so much cheaper than buying from the store.
Food is never just something to eat. -Margaret Visser
Having been raised in Canada, there are so many things about my Indian heritage that I gave up or lost inadvertently. But the one thing that binds me to my past, despite how or where I live, is the food of my childhood, more specifically the simple Indian flatbread, or roti. Bread has this way with us, no? It’s a universal food, yet, each type defines its own culture, people and place, sometimes beyond nationalities and borders. In my opinion, the bread we call our own tells one more about who we are, and where we’ve come from, than our passports and birth certificates. And our last names.
Continue reading “tracing roots & roti, an indian flatbread”
The beauty of dead hydrangeas is a memento of the broken promise of an endless summer.
Every year, for even a fleeting moment, I buy into the promise of an endless summer. It’s hard not to in the middle of a Montréal heat wave in the middle of July. This year has been especially deceiving because even well into October we’ve had some unseasonably warm days and a few more coming up according to the latest weather forecast. But the nights are getting cooler and the evenings darker and certainly autumn is here, settled in with deep roots. My hydrangeas can attest to that. They have dried up; beautifully as they always do, as beautiful as they were when they bloomed, only now in hues of brown and red. They are blessed, these gems, to have this endless beauty long after summer has passed, and promises of an endless summer are broken on a cool autumn evening. And celebrations of new sorts begin.
Autumn, here, is celebrated with simple delights such as apple pie.
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