artwork done by KT at Bohemian tattoos arts, New zealand, Tauranga
If grandmothers around the world had a rallying cry, it would probably sound something like “You need to eat!”
Photographer Gabriele Galimberti’s grandmother said something similar to him before one of his many globetrotting work trips. To ensure he had at least one good meal, she prepared for him a dish of ravioli before he departed on one of his adventures.
“In that occasion I said to my grandma ‘You know, Grandma, there are many other grandmas around the world and most of them are really good cooks,” Galimberti wrote via email. “I’m going to meet them and ask them to cook for me so I can show you that you don’t have to be worried for me and the food that I will eat!’ This is the way my project was born!”
The project, “Delicatessen With Love”, took Galimberti to 58 countries where he photographed grandmothers with both the ingredients and finished signature dishes.
He acted as photographer and stylist during each shoot with the grandmothers, taking a portrait of both the women and the food they made for him.
From top to bottom:
Inara Runtule, 68, Kekava, Latvia. Silke (herring with potatoes and cottage cheese).
Grace Estibero, 82, Mumbai, India. Chicken vindaloo.Susann Soresen, 81, Homer, Alaska. Moose steak.
Serette Charles, 63, Saint-Jean du Sud, Haiti. Lambi in creole sauce.
The photographer’s grandmother Marisa Batini, 80, Castiglion Fiorentino, Italy. Swiss chard and ricotta Ravioli with meat sauce.
Normita Sambu Arap, 65, Oltepessi (Masaai Mara), Kenya. Mboga and orgali (white corn polenta with vegetables and goat).
Julia Enaigua, 71, La Paz, Bolivia. Queso Humacha (vegetables and fresh cheese soup).
Fifi Makhmer, 62, Cairo, Egypt. Kuoshry (pasta, rice and legumes pie).
Isolina Perez De Vargas, 83, Mendoza, Argentina. Asado criollo (mixed meats barbecue).
Bisrat Melake, 60, Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. Enjera with curry and vegetables.
(via roseturned)
My new Rib cage tattoo done by Anson Eastin at Forever Tattoo in Cape Coral, Fl
El Dorado
There is a sweetness in the grassy scent of a perfectly green, perfectly shaped cob of corn. Still in the husk, it is a mark of summer, a symbol but also an immediate and real pleasure for those discerning enough to give their complete attention to the moment and the moment only.
There is a sweetness when you puncture the hot kernals with your teeth, tempered with the burn, the feeling of those thin skins as they work their way up between your teeth, to be teased out later with a toothpick or an athletic tongue. But you wait to cleanse your palate- or I wait- because I like the flavour to linger, I like to taste not only its own savour, but the memories of back yards, of barbecues, of warmth, of my fleeting little history and the moments when I was innocent of dignity. It is impossible to look refined when eating corn on the cob, and that fact itself is nearly as delicious as the act of doing it.
There is a sweetness- no salt, no butter, but virgin yellow- in the simplicity of a boiled cob. Hot water, add corn, and it must be wondered if, in the rearing of this species (for it was engineered into edibleness by the Aztecs) those original makers found the same recipe, the same simplicity. If they, round their campfire, before their stone pots, decimated cob in hand, sought out the root of each remaining morsels still embedded using whatever teeth they had. Just as we did as children, when lacking for a few teeth was no obstacle in search of the sweetness.
I haven’t even started watching this yet, but the fact that the band played an elevator-music version of the Buffy theme to walk him on has cracked me up the middle.
The best, funniest Ben interview I’ve ever read, and of course it’s Caitlin Moran.
I think it makes a difference when the person interviewing is famous in their own right—and brings that confidence into the interview.
A true gem of an interview.
I’m still a total sucker.
(Source: cumbertrekky)
I have three recurring stress dreams:
1) My teeth are falling out
2) I’m in public with no pants on… and
3) I’m forced back to school. No joke, this one is the worst. I’m made to go back and take either math or anthropology or shorthand (all on my Fail list.) Sometimes it’s college and sometimes it’s high school. At all times in this dream I am crying and want to vomit.
So, to all my readers who are losing their young minds right now… I totally gotcha.
(Source: reddit.com)
I don’t want to be this good looking and athletic. We all have crosses to bear.
(Source: thisyearsgirls, via thebuffster)
