As we migrate we carry the narrative of food from home in an ever-changing script. As we grow, change, learn, and experiment, our food changes too. But the heart of it is always home.
Thank you. We've had some nice days lately. Kind of warm and humid. But, it is the midwest and that is normal. Here is a photo a got the other evening when the sky was clear. https://jarphys.wordpress.com/2025/06/30/moon-meets-mars/
That is true - though I like our NZ ones better! (Being a NZer and all) There is a lovely town about 30 minutes from here that makes a good pie! Hi Lucy!! Lovely to see you!
There should be a pie register for Australia where we can rate them. Kim and I eat one at every new town we travel through🙄 some are better than others!
This post is the best! It brought up so many memories of the old farmy blog. I’ve been here for a very long time. It also reminded me of recipes from friends and co-workers from other countries and cultures. It was heartwarming to read.
You have been here for a very long time! We learnt so much together on the blog supporting each other and teaching each other! I loved writing this piece - walking down memory lane.
My little girl who was mind blown by the white peacock and said “miss c must be rich because she has a white peacock” is now in her last year of high school, prepping for uni admissions and driving my car.
Is she still cooking? I hope so. University in this new era of AI tech will be so different from the universities we attended. Her education will be broad. Vital to our future.
Yes she is still cooking and baking. AI, that changes so much. University will be very different in many ways, and much more expensive than when I went. I am nervous about her leaving home but it isn’t too far, she’s hoping to go to Montreal. She is bilingual so it will be good for her to continue using French once she leaves school so she doesn’t lose any of her fluency.
Oh yes! And yes - the expense must be dreadful. But keeping her language studies up is a great idea. ESP in a city that speaks the language. I knew a woman who was an interpreter in the old days - she flew all over the world working. Old fashioned right?
Coming from Trinidad, I’ve often said the only way I’ve ever truly been able to introduce myself is through a plate. Doubles, callaloo, pelau. To me, they’re more than food. They’re love letters written in turmeric and thyme. Thank you for honoring the untold stories that sit in every simmering pot. Also, this is my favoritest article written by you, Cecilia.
Turmeric and Thyme! That sounds like a good name for a shop! My greatest wish is to have a picnic with you one day on your beach. We could each bring a favorite dish and twenty bottles of wine! I think this is my favoritism article to write lately too!
This made me think of the pork pies beloved of my Wiltshire ancestors, hot water pastry shaped and formed into tall pie crusts, filled with spiced chopped pork (and sometimes a boiled egg or two), topped off and then filled to the brim with delicious hot stock that turned to jelly when baked and served cold. They come in individual and family sized versions. My mouth is watering.
and what a beautiful chain you've woven here. each thread, each link, leading to the next. the journeys made by the people who carry with them, their customs, their languages, their traditions, their stories, their cultures, their foods. we have much to be thank them for, these travelers, these migrants, for they enrich our lives in so many ways, as we hope we enrich theirs, continuing the chain.
those who choose to break this chain and see them as a negative force, to be sent away, locked up, or punished, do not understand, nor care for what they mean to us, or who they are, and it is a terrible and unimaginable loss.
Yes! Beth. That is it exactly. They are choosing to break the chain in the most dreadful way. And the loss to our communities is going to last a long long time. They are calling immigration a crime. It makes me very afraid.
You are making me think as well as you often do . . . and remember way back . . . uhuh even John A with his wonderful pasta dishes and Italian stories . . . I had coming to Chicago totally planned and John promised to drive me down to the farmy . . . and I do hope that he is reading this and smiling at your current words as well . . . as you know I begin all my English foodie reposts with his name still . . .
Well, :), my posts have not come back! He meant to move to be near dear relatives in San Marino and then life came into way. I know he sold his house and bought an apartment near the Lake . . . hope one to where his pup was also welcome. Life is funny, Celi - one day . . . best to all of you . . .
Oh, forgot - just 'talked' to a very busy but happy Kristy Wenz i actually first 'met' at the farmy - OMG > she manages to get around now the kids are grown!!!
I've followed you since the early days, thanks to Charlotte in Milan, and this is the best and truest thing you've ever written. I have travelled and lived all over the world and the two words that always come up are 'food' and 'home'. They are synonymous.
Oh Mary. Thank you. You will recognise some of these characters from earlier writings too. Which makes it all the more personal i think. It is personal. Immigrants are travelers. Travelers are persons.
Indeed, I still make Fede's chimichurri this way and try to explain how I learned it from you. I live in the Loire Valley now but will visit my children in Atlanta next week and we've been exchanging menus a lot. We all feel the same connection with food and home.
Such a lovely essay to bring us on the journey of immigrants, food, memory, and dignity.
We have friends who make the best empanadas. Love chiming churri. Can taste spanokopita from this. So much to savor. So much to recall us to ourselves. Thanks for this tour today.
All of us immigrants bring food and recipes and methods and memories. These are real people. I cannot believe that locking unlucky people up like this is being celebrated.
I'd like to add one more hand pie food called the pupusa from El Salvadore. We have 4 or 5 pupusarias in our towns. Tasty, like all the others.
Thank you, Jim!! I love the addition. Pupusa. I will find it. I wish you clear skies and a lovely evening!
Thank you. We've had some nice days lately. Kind of warm and humid. But, it is the midwest and that is normal. Here is a photo a got the other evening when the sky was clear. https://jarphys.wordpress.com/2025/06/30/moon-meets-mars/
Yay! You make the most of those skies! And the planets therein.
I used to work with a woman whose husband was from El Salvador and she always had fresh pupusa in her lunch bag!
Found you…. wondered where you’d gone👍
Lovely post. I like the way you weave in appreciation of immigrants through the food memories. It's beautifully done.
I think creating positive counter-narratives is always more powerful than protesting and therefore energising negative energy.
Very true. We must stay positive though I feel my heart breaking lately. My adopted country is very different now.
Lovely…..such beautiful writing! But I must correct you on one thing. The meat pie is as Aussie as can be!
That is true - though I like our NZ ones better! (Being a NZer and all) There is a lovely town about 30 minutes from here that makes a good pie! Hi Lucy!! Lovely to see you!
There should be a pie register for Australia where we can rate them. Kim and I eat one at every new town we travel through🙄 some are better than others!
Beautiful! Culturally rich cuisine soul food 💚🎶☮️
Hi Jeanne! Yes! I agree we find so much culture and richness in our foods!
This post is the best! It brought up so many memories of the old farmy blog. I’ve been here for a very long time. It also reminded me of recipes from friends and co-workers from other countries and cultures. It was heartwarming to read.
You have been here for a very long time! We learnt so much together on the blog supporting each other and teaching each other! I loved writing this piece - walking down memory lane.
My little girl who was mind blown by the white peacock and said “miss c must be rich because she has a white peacock” is now in her last year of high school, prepping for uni admissions and driving my car.
Is she still cooking? I hope so. University in this new era of AI tech will be so different from the universities we attended. Her education will be broad. Vital to our future.
Yes she is still cooking and baking. AI, that changes so much. University will be very different in many ways, and much more expensive than when I went. I am nervous about her leaving home but it isn’t too far, she’s hoping to go to Montreal. She is bilingual so it will be good for her to continue using French once she leaves school so she doesn’t lose any of her fluency.
Oh yes! And yes - the expense must be dreadful. But keeping her language studies up is a great idea. ESP in a city that speaks the language. I knew a woman who was an interpreter in the old days - she flew all over the world working. Old fashioned right?
Coming from Trinidad, I’ve often said the only way I’ve ever truly been able to introduce myself is through a plate. Doubles, callaloo, pelau. To me, they’re more than food. They’re love letters written in turmeric and thyme. Thank you for honoring the untold stories that sit in every simmering pot. Also, this is my favoritest article written by you, Cecilia.
Turmeric and Thyme! That sounds like a good name for a shop! My greatest wish is to have a picnic with you one day on your beach. We could each bring a favorite dish and twenty bottles of wine! I think this is my favoritism article to write lately too!
It does right?
I look forward to that Cecilia, especially the 20 bottles of wine.
We live in the same state. Well you do part time anyway.
I am sure it will happen one day.
Yes!! Hope they let me back in!
They will.
if they don’t call me.
I promise you I will raise hell.
happy New Week Cecilia :)
It’s a plan!
What a lovely journey through food you have taken us on. A delight to read.
Nostalgia. With food. 😀
This made me think of the pork pies beloved of my Wiltshire ancestors, hot water pastry shaped and formed into tall pie crusts, filled with spiced chopped pork (and sometimes a boiled egg or two), topped off and then filled to the brim with delicious hot stock that turned to jelly when baked and served cold. They come in individual and family sized versions. My mouth is watering.
I remember those from the little bakers on wadhurst in Kent. I had forgotten about them. I have never made hot water pastry - I need to look that up!
and what a beautiful chain you've woven here. each thread, each link, leading to the next. the journeys made by the people who carry with them, their customs, their languages, their traditions, their stories, their cultures, their foods. we have much to be thank them for, these travelers, these migrants, for they enrich our lives in so many ways, as we hope we enrich theirs, continuing the chain.
those who choose to break this chain and see them as a negative force, to be sent away, locked up, or punished, do not understand, nor care for what they mean to us, or who they are, and it is a terrible and unimaginable loss.
Yes! Beth. That is it exactly. They are choosing to break the chain in the most dreadful way. And the loss to our communities is going to last a long long time. They are calling immigration a crime. It makes me very afraid.
You are making me think as well as you often do . . . and remember way back . . . uhuh even John A with his wonderful pasta dishes and Italian stories . . . I had coming to Chicago totally planned and John promised to drive me down to the farmy . . . and I do hope that he is reading this and smiling at your current words as well . . . as you know I begin all my English foodie reposts with his name still . . .
I don’t think John is reading here. He has been off the socials for years now.
Well, :), my posts have not come back! He meant to move to be near dear relatives in San Marino and then life came into way. I know he sold his house and bought an apartment near the Lake . . . hope one to where his pup was also welcome. Life is funny, Celi - one day . . . best to all of you . . .
Oh, forgot - just 'talked' to a very busy but happy Kristy Wenz i actually first 'met' at the farmy - OMG > she manages to get around now the kids are grown!!!
She gets around big time that woman. So proud of her.
Beautiful post Cecilia. Thank you.
You are welcome Lisa! Thank you so much for reading. And good morning!
Food is the great unifier - wonderful read and your bread looks amazing!
That bread was way too tasty. A home baked loaf does not last long here!
I've followed you since the early days, thanks to Charlotte in Milan, and this is the best and truest thing you've ever written. I have travelled and lived all over the world and the two words that always come up are 'food' and 'home'. They are synonymous.
Oh Mary. Thank you. You will recognise some of these characters from earlier writings too. Which makes it all the more personal i think. It is personal. Immigrants are travelers. Travelers are persons.
Indeed, I still make Fede's chimichurri this way and try to explain how I learned it from you. I live in the Loire Valley now but will visit my children in Atlanta next week and we've been exchanging menus a lot. We all feel the same connection with food and home.
The great NZ pie - along with pavlova and a flat white are our significant contributions to the cuisine of the world
Nothing at all ever beats a good pav. Last night’s pav with cream and a flat white for breakfast! Oh yes.
Such a lovely essay to bring us on the journey of immigrants, food, memory, and dignity.
We have friends who make the best empanadas. Love chiming churri. Can taste spanokopita from this. So much to savor. So much to recall us to ourselves. Thanks for this tour today.
All of us immigrants bring food and recipes and methods and memories. These are real people. I cannot believe that locking unlucky people up like this is being celebrated.