Food Journeys | Our Stories
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Our Stories


19 Jul In the delicate burgundy

In the delicate burgundy of your chocolate undulates the discipline of old vineyards and imagined samurais. Among the stern landscape flows this river bearing an almond heart, blinded by the crystalline whiteness of the sun. The snow petals descend upon the hills and brighten the solitary moss. The wind, heavy, twists the stone-stiff branches of vines. On these resilient shoulders of the land, where...

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People gathering on the beach eating marshmallows

01 Jul The art of ‘marshmellowing’

I thought it was a myth. A romantic pairing we only got to see in the American movies. A conductor's gesture surrounded by voices whispering, the unfolding of night's theatrical curtain and the pitch-black restlessness of the sea. All mellowed by the moon coloured grains of sand. What am I talking about? Marshmallows and beach fires. Yes! They do exist and...

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08 Jun A monsoon scented Portuguese table

It was a dark, not so cosy night. The sky held chalky stars over our heads and we were all shivering with the cold fresh air. We had met only a few days ago but we felt like kindred spirits. Outside the tiny crude pub, we were hoping to experience a true moment of Irish openness and genuine atmosphere. And...

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11 May Between sea and land

Roughed by time and scorched by the sun, decayed and aged by the persistency of the everlasting tides, here lies an elderly fishing port, tired, wrinkled, punctuated by a long silver beard and grey watery eyes. For decades that its skyscraper legs and crackling torso bear the weary load of fishermen's feet, semi-shredded ropes and improvised buoys, granting the access to...

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I wonder if snails decorate their home-shells with semi-precious raisins, golden almonds and velvet chocolate chips... Do you think they sprinkle a little bit of cinnamon to add an extra glamour? • Questiono-me se os caracóis decoram as suas casas-concha com passas semi-preciosas, amêndoas douradas e pepitas de chocolate aveludado... Polvilharão eles um pouco de canela em pó para adicionar um toque extra de glamour?

— Note to myself #8 • Nota pessoal #8

23 Mar The excessive geometry of love

I've always had the Great Pyramid of Giza on my plate. Unlike the pharaohs, I always tried to tear it down. Brick by brick. Grain by grain. Pea by pea. Patiently. Miserably. Secretly hoping that no one would ever notice that the entire amount of the food structure was still all there. That's how my mum thought my plate should be....

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When Fall has already descended from the trees and has covered the path I'm taking with crackling leaves, I always imagine that I'm stepping thin potato chips. In that precise moment, I wonder if anyone, anytime, has waited, mouth wide open, for them to fall from the leafy canopies... • Quando o Outono já caiu das árvores e cobriu de folhas crocantes o chão por onde caminho, imagino sempre que piso batatas fritas pála-pála. Nessa altura, questiono-me se alguém, alguma vez, esperou de boca aberta que elas caíssem das copas frondosas...


01 Jan The (is)land of contemplation

São Jorge, Azores. The (is)land of contemplation. Everything here has its own pace, its very own restrained inner rhythm. If someone tells you that you're five minutes from reaching your goal, don't believe it: multiply that number by another five. Time on this island just stands still. Like the steep hills that always look down on you from one side, indelible giants, Jurassic looking, that...

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