The Joy of Chopping Garlic

The joy of chopping garlic, the smallest of slimy Indian cloves, crush and peel. My very own cooker in my first kitchen in eight months. The joy of washing plates in real detergent, not sand or a plastic bag. The pleasure of washing the most beautiful tomatoes, peppers, aubergines, arranging them in my rented fridge, in my rented kitchen with a look of the 1950’s.

The joy of skimming froth from boiling red lentils, frying onions and egg plants in olive oil, cooking bringing happiness in my very own space.

A rented apartment on the beach in  Goa, amongst the palms and the pigs. Just us and the pigs and the palms. Local vegetable stalls and independent village stores, having the choice of whom to support, food one tenth the price of food in England.

The joy of drinking a glass of red wine, vino from a vineyard i visited in Nasik, on the porch, eating a pasta dish as the sun sets. No restaurants, no waiters, no tips and no getting ill. No curry.

Sinking back into my love for cooking and being domestic. My choice of music on the stereo, in my own little house for the final fortnight. Wine, pasta and  the beach five minutes away.  A perfect transition for returning home.

4 comments

  1. earthdrifter

    Yeah man! I miss the hell out of cookin’ my own healthy eats. The fruit culture where I am is just amazing though. I wonder where in Goa you are? Have you tried the Cashew Fenny? They sell it in Pinaji. It really packs a punch, warms you right up in an instant. Have you been to a spice plantation in Goa? They give you a great feast after and it’s complimented by a rich shot of the Fenny.

    • pinkybinks

      I was in south goa, but now back in the UK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not a fan of fenny but have given it a few attempts!!! Yak! Being in England my blog is about to change dramatically!!!!

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