Grandmothers and Guardians of Taste
In a courtyard kitchen, a grandmother pinched dumplings by rhythm, not rule. Three folds for luck, a thumbprint for breath. She said, taste the dough; it should remember the wheatfield.
Grandmothers and Guardians of Taste
Oral recipes travel faster than airplanes. One aunt swaps coriander for culantro, another lowers the flame until stories get good. Record both versions, then adapt respectfully. Tell us which elder taught you to trust your tongue.