MY KITCHEN

A visit to my ancestral homeland found me in a small local restaurant on the outskirts
of Vienna. When I entered I was overcome with emotion. I felt like I had just entered
my Grandmothers kitchen back when I was a young child. The aroma was
absolutely identical and I realised this aroma was part of her heritage and my own.

Even though my grandmother didn't talk much about life before fleeing Europe during the war,
she had passed her heritage down to me without the spoken word but within the food she cooked for us.
She taught me how to live in my kitchen, celebrate raw ingredients and be guided by the seasons as
she harvested fresh food daily that my Grandfather lovingly grew in his garden for her.
 

The way my Grandmother lived in her kitchen was and continues to be a great source of
comfort and inspiration for me and everyday I cook I feel her there beside me.
That is the power of food. It has the magic ability to bring people together,
tell stories, access memories, bring healing and transcend time and space.

As a young child standing in her pantry inhaling the aromas of drying salamis, gathered foods, feasting my eyes on uniquely packaged european cheeses, jars full of currants and bottles of brightly coloured paprika, I sensed the room thick of mystery, creativity and alchemy. Never did I imagine that this precious little room she created would be something I would seek to have in my own life and
become a source of comfort and connection to my heritage, creativity and the people I love most.