Watching The British Baking Show on Netflix brings back so many memories of cakes, pies, and Torten my Grandma used to make. Turns out they actually have names, and it’s not just the pear-thing-with the-funny-shape I remember eating as a child. Pastries from the UK, Belgium, Poland and the rest of the world -even Austria where I happen to be from- are introduced in the baking competition, and I am having a good time watching it.
Continue readingI just finished reading Derick’s blog and when he mentioned his dinner -a Tandoori take out- I couldn’t help but smile and my mind wandered down on memory lane. Continue reading
Sometimes, very seldom, I feel something like homesickness, even though it’s not for a home or family, but rather for a tradition and or perhaps rituals I remember so vividly. Right about now, at the beginning of summer, I was always called back home to our farm in Austria. I got an extra week of vacation, like so many of us farm-children who had to help. Continue reading
“You are going to England for the summer,” my Grandma surprised me and she would spend my favorite time of the year with two children from Italy. She had been given a pamphlet of EF a student summer exchange program -which is still existing to this day. She had liked the idea to send me off so it seems because she had signed up for it months before. Continue reading
The first migrant workers arrived in Austria, following an invitation from the Austrian government.
I was born 4,500 miles away in a small village in the Alps. One foot one the Italian side, the other on the Austrian side my Grandma always joked. I met Gastarbeiter/Migrant workers), who were guest/gast in our country, invited by our government. Most of them came from the former Yugoslavia, a few Turkish men followed the invitation as well. Continue reading
There is always one somewhere. An ordinary man or woman, who shows extraordinary strength when it’s needed the most. Continue reading
One of the rare occasions I will show myself. Banged up knee, no front teeth, one of Grandma’s ridiculous haircuts, yet the boy on my side could not resist my charm and became my boyfriend for one summer. Continue reading
Lent was a big deal in our Catholic boarding school. 40 days of fasting was the motto, which didn’t bother us too much, we were used to it. Boarding school food is a bit like hospital food, and fasting comes naturally. Continue reading
