I come down on a crisp morning, and the smell of fresh, warm coffee lures me to the kitchen.
I am my mother’s daughter, who is her grandpa’s daughter. A coffee and a biscuit unlock the day.
I have a front yard with a jujube tree and a clothesline. I pocket some of the brown fruits the size of an olive or a date. It’s a little snack for later.


I say good day to the gilded hills and my basil.
My mom suggests I dry some of the parsley, but nothing tops the freshness of the leaves as I pick them from my garden and plop them in my soup.
My grandma used to say: “I don’t like people who don’t know how to enjoy food.” She also peeled the apples and cut them into slices to force-feed them to us every time we came to visit. The bowl needed to be empty.
I love apples. I never peel or cut them. Grandma thought it was important that she did it. She must take care of her children.
My healthiest eating habit is being able to prepare a warm meal or a little something sweet, sit down with my loved ones, and share it with them.

A shared meal holds something sacred. Food is alchemy. A fruit on the branch, a plant in the soil, hard work. In a simple process of subtle transmutation, it turns into love and safety, a true sanctuary.

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Love that you have a connection to foods from your garden! Coffee and biscuits are a mood!
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Yeah, I agree with your grandma: for me, it’s also about gratefulness.
Love your jujube tree. How amazing! Authentic photos that I enjoyed.
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