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The convenience of the singular

What will the local markets be like in a few decades? Or even in a few years? Will the neighbourhood little markets, aimed at specific niches, sprout and flourish in order to serve the concerns and...

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Chez des amis

Paris. It’s unusually hot. Even for July. The sun hits you with fervour and you feel unable to breathe inside every muffled city bus. It’s now six o’clock in the afternoon and we’re walking towards the...

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Kaiseki, the genius of Rosanjin Kitâoji

Is it possible to be touched by beauty when looking at a rectangular flat table immersed in a shaded ambience? So deeply that your arms get the chills and the hairs on your neck get bristled? I’m at...

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Paradise is made of salt

Paradise is made of salt. It has pink washed flamingos with long wings tipped in black. It is covered by marshland, Mediterranean hot climate bearing vegetation, shallow pools of clear seawater and a...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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