I’m packing again! This time I’m off to Florence and as much as I would love to say it’s for play and shopping, it’s not. I am afraid I won’t be able to take in much of the sights of my beloved city this time. I’ve always had somewhat of a love affair with this city. Florence, a city I visited for the first time when I was a starry eyed 16 year old teenager accompanying my dad who had the ability to engage me with his captivating stories and tales. Together we spend several summer vacations touring Italy from coast to coast, but Florence was always in my heart.
I never saw my grandmother with a cookbook. Nor do I remember seeing any cookbooks on the shelves of the Delhi house. Nani was not the cookbook type of cook. She had a wide repertoire of dishes that she cooked with utmost finesse and each one of those dishes were carefully prepared with her own personal signature ingredient to specifically highlight the particular dish.
It seems Autumn has finally come to Weimar. September was filled with non-stop sunny days, bright blue skies and summery high temperatures. It spoilt me. Basking in the warmth of an extended summer I got used to walking out of the house in flip flops and shorts, leaving the warmer jackets behind, hanging on the cloak rack. It felt unusual to enjoy the pleasures of summer right through into September.
Growing up, my pre-teens and teenage years were very much influenced by both the American and British cultures. Having been in and out of the States and American elementary schools around the world, I was rather unprepared for what awaited me at a private British high school. It was like the clash of the titans in many situations. As George Bernard Shaw said “England and America are two countries separated by the same language”.