Indigenous food and wild edibles, on the whole, are packed with goodness. It’s one of the many benefits of eating locally, and one that encourages me to keep on experimenting in the kitchen.
A new year is a time of promise and hope. Here, I share with you the wisdom of Wendell Berry, the heroic American writer and environmentalist, who encourages us to be still “and listen to the voices that belong to the streambanks and the trees and the open fields.”
A Poem on Hope
by Wendell Berry
It is hard to have hope.
Hanni Aston, Chris’s late mother, was, by all accounts, a renowned cook. Elderly friends of mine, who also once knew Hanni well, have all told me as much. And her love of good food and her skill in the kitchen is reflected in Chris and his siblings.
Hanni Aston with her four children, Simon, Chris, Dee and Louise.
Once again I was commissioned by The Cook’s Cook magazine in the United States to write a feature article, this time on The Elephant Café. You can find the original story published in the December/January issue by clicking here, or for those with slow internet connections, I have reproduced my story below.
Rachel was an orphan. Her last name is Tembo, which in Swahili means “elephant.” How remarkable, then, that Rachel should end up becoming part of a family of orphaned elephants? And more so that she is especially loved by all the babies in the herd to which she has such a deep connection? “The young ones are my kids,” she told me earlier this week.
The ecosystems of Zambia’s rivers are in serious peril because of the introduction of an Australian species of freshwater crayfish, by a fish farm, 15 years ago. According to our friend Bruce Danckwerts, who lives in Choma two hours north of Livingstone, the crayfish escaped from the fish farm shortly thereafter and have spread up and down the Kafue River.