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The first jar I remember was on a low shelf in a house in the Marrakesh medina, in a quiet room off the courtyard…
In my aunt's kitchen in Pune there is a black cast iron kadai that has been in the house since before I was born.…
In my grandmother's house in Kyoto, the rice was washed for the next day's dinner before she went to bed. She would take a…
My grandmother carried a small knife in her apron pocket from spring until late autumn. It was not for the kitchen. It was for…
The glass jar sat on the kitchen windowsill in Pune, on its side, with a piece of muslin held over the mouth by a…
The first time I had breakfast in a friend's house in Beirut, I was fifteen. Her mother set out a low round table on…
In my parents' apartment in Bologna, the kitchen has a small round table that seats four comfortably and six with some shuffling of chairs.…
In Bangalore, my mother sets a small earthenware pot on the kitchen counter every evening before bed. Warm milk goes in, a spoonful of…
The bowl sat on the kitchen counter all night, covered with a damp cloth, gathering itself in the cool of the room. By morning…
From the train between Nara and Kyoto in late autumn, you sometimes see them on the roof tiles of older houses: small bamboo trays…
My aunt Latifa, in a small town outside Tunis, kept a wooden shelf above the kitchen window that received sun from late morning until…
The sound came from the kitchen before dawn. A wooden rod knocking softly against the inside of a tall clay pot. Not loud, not…
