A Tale of Four Women and A Restaurant Called Four Sisters


The other day someone asked me why I travel……and my first thought was “as opposed to”? I don’t travel near enough but still, I couldn’t think of my world devoid of travel.

But later I thought I needed to ask myself why I really do and the answer was singular….because you never return the same……something ALWAYS shifts

It changes your perspective on a lot of stuff….it reminds you that life is not always black and white; there are a lot of grey areas but also there are lots of beautiful pockets of vibrant color.

It teaches you to consistently question and evaluate values, beliefs, comfort zones…..it is always the perfect time to realign, refocus and regroup. I’m always reminded not to take anything for granted but also not to take stuff too seriously.

But most of all, once you start, you can’t stop, it becomes like an addiction, a high that you must consistently feed….I think it is one addiction I do not want to be cured from.

During my recent travels to Ethiopia, yes, I know, an unlikely destination (but one that will surprise when I finally get round to blogging about it) I had an experience which brought it all home for me.


Lea, my fantastic travel buddy


I travelled with my sister, who’s entire world revolves around travel. She is a travel consultant and is so good at it. When she is not doing that, she travels and blogs about her experiences here https://walkwithlea.com/.

This is the first time were travelling together and since I always do solo travel this is a new frontier for me. I had purposed at the beginning of the trip that I would embrace this new experience and milk it for all its worth,…selfie partner, instant photographer( no having to beg random strangers or selfie sticks here) and it is so darn cheaper; shared rooms, meals, cab rides etc….

I couldn’t have asked for a better travel buddy.

Somewhere along the journey we ran into Martie and Caz. We are staying at Lodge du Chateu, a quaint lodge in the old town in Gondar. All rooms open up to a lovely garden type of courtyard. This in essence means you can’t avoid your neighbors on all sides. Martie is staying in the room across from us, Caz is two doors away from us. Little did I know that by the end of the trip these ladies would be my Gondar squad


Lodge du Chateau

It’s day two in Gondar. We are having breakfast in the dining terrace, which has the most magnificent views. On the table next to us are two elderly ladies. One is complaining that the Ethiopian French toast looks and tastes nothing like the American one.

Simon, the lodge manager, comes to brief us about our site-seeing tour for the day. As soon as he leaves….one of the ladies, the brunette, calls out, “are you girls going to see the castles and churches”? We say yes….and she quickly asks if she can come along, we agree. This means we can split the guide fees. Why not?

Breakfast is done, we cross over and shake hands, meet Martie and Caz


The Terrace at Lodge du Chateau …..

Long story short, we spend the day with Caz..as we go all around Gondar. She is loud and interesting, she sometimes seems unsure and I can’t quite figure out whether it’s a language thing or something else. She, like me, gets tired quickly of being in one spot and the guide going on and on…. “we’ve all read the guidebook and once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all” she says….I kinda/sorta agree….

Somewhere along the site-seeing we learn that Caz is from Madrid and her son is called George, she is so proud that St. George is the Patron Saint for Gondar or something like that. My sister speaks perfect Spanish so she and Caz are a match made in heaven they go on and on in Spanish. Me….imma just people watch.


I just love this picture…..so many interpretations and the Bayan tree roots, so symbolic.

We return to the lodge at lunch time for a break before we go back in the afternoon.

Martie, who has been in Ethiopia severally before is just coming back from the market, her face is flushed. She tells Caz, “Oh, you should have come to the market, you would have loved it.” Caz says, “You should have come to the Castles…..”

Martie scoffs her away…”I’ve been there many times before”…

I don’t understand these ladies…how are they even friends? They are so different.

Martie asks us whether we have dinner plans we say we say we want to go back to the Four Sisters Restaurant where we’d been the previous night. She beams with excitement, that’s just perfect, it is the best place in Gondar; the ambience and the food is stellar…. that’s where I want to take Caz….we agree to go at 6.30. German dinnertime, now we know Martie’s German.

When we return from the afternoon excursion and its time to pay the guide, apparently the fee has changed. The price has gone up because there were more of us…..CAZ IS LIVID. She haggles everyone, the guide, the manager…everyone…..my sister and I want to crawl under a rock…the guide was pretty good and the lodge gave us a complimentary shuttle to get around so an additional 50 bir (2dollars) isn’t anything to fret about.

Finally we all pay up and go to chill before dinner.



My sister and I are lounging lazily outside our room…scrolling at photos of the day and trying to catch the WiFi….we don’t realize what time it is until Martie walks out of her room and looks at her watch then at us….crap its 6.25….

She of course has German precision timing…..you ought to have seen us scurry into our room like teenagers to freshen up and get ready for dinner. I’ve never gotten dressed so fast. We don’t want to upset our new friend with tardiness.

When we step out of the room Martie and Caz are all ooohs and aaahs…we clean up real good. Martie complains that she is here on a project so she didn’t bring any nice clothes. Caz couldn’t be bothered, she is starving.

We are walking to the restaurant…not that there is any other option with Martie…(we had taken a tuk tuk there and back with my sister )

These ladies may be elderly but they are super fit and agile we’re at the restaurant in no time.

Martie knows exactly what she wants… she is vegetarian so she orders Beyeayinet, a delightful fasting dish. Caz has never had Injeraa and she looooves her meat…My sister and I recommend that she has the National Dish which was what we had the previous night. I order lamb goulash and my sister fish goulash…

Caz wants to order a starter because she is starving but Martie tells her off curtly. “ We cant have that, I don’t eat meat”.

Thankfully, the restaurant serves the most decadent vegetable soup with bread as a complimentary starter with every meal. So Caz is okay.

She says she wants a beer and asks whether anybody would mind, she has gone back to her slightly unsure self.

Of course nobody minds. I order a glass of rosé and my sister has a some red wine, Martie has sparkling water.


They give you these gorgeous handwoven ponchos at the Four Sisters Hotel to keep you warm as you dine. Looooooove.

A few gulps of beer and Caz comes alive. She starts regaling us with stories of her youth and of nudist beaches, she can’t quite get over how the people on nudist beaches have such amazing bodies…not an inch of flab or cellulite for days.

Then she moves on to partying in Ibiza….she says that I would fit right in since I look exotic…and according to her, only exotic looking people go clubbing in Ibiza….if you’re ordinary it is no place for you….she gesticulates wildly and laughs heartily….it is so good to see this wild side of her.

My sister says that she has a long distance boyfriend and Caz says that that is the best thing ever!!….. “Since you don’t see each other often you don’t fight and when you meet it is perfection”…..and then she drops this wisdom…”Marriage is not good or bad, it is LONG!!!” My sister and I break out in laughter and Martie nods silently.

I feel she is feeling slightly overshadowed so I turn the conversation to her.

“Tell us about your projects Martie”.

It turns out several times every year she comes out to help destitute families and kids in Gondar. She uses her own money and collections from friends to educate the kids and teach women skills to empower them. I’m intrigued….. “why do you this”, I ask?

She tells us how, on her first trekking visit to the Simien Mountains she met this young boy who looked so haggard and malnourished. He barely had any clothes on in the cold mountains. She gave him a pair of her jeans, which fit him perfectly and from that moment on, he stuck by her side, was her self appointed porter and guard. When she was leaving, he gave her the only thing he had of value, his walking stick. Everyone in this part of the world has one. She took the stick back home with her and months later came back put him in school and set up a business for his mum.

The young boy is now a grown man who manages a trekking company. He is married and has two kids. He calls her his second mum, she says he is her second family.

Martie, is in her 70’s, she is divorced. She has one daughter and two grand sons whom she dotes on. Just in January she went on an Asia tour with her youngest grandson before he started his university studies in Melbourne, Australia. His friends think he has the coolest grandma….I agree.

In her youth she worked for the German Embassy in lots of different countries. She has travelled everywhere and lived on all continents. She knows everything about everything….(lol)…after all she has been there and she is not afraid to remind us that. She has had all the money she could ever want and bought everything she liked.

Now, she is happy to live modestly, empower others…….but she is not hanging up her travel boots anytime soon. She reminds my sister to share her contacts because she wants to come again to Kenya on Safari.


This is how we roll….tuk tuk rides with Lea and Caz!

Back to Caz. After hearing Martie’s story I’m curious to hear her story. “What do you do Caz”, I asked flippantly.

“I am a housewife”…….

Jaws drop, mouth agape!!! Say what now?

Yes, being a housewife is a hard job, you have to keep track of the family’s spending and ensure that everything is running smoothly. I don’t have much money, but I am happier than my banker friends. Plus being a house wife is like being a president….and trying to make sure that budgets are working and everyone is happy.”

There is a moment of silence, then we all burst into laughter, and attack our food with gusto……my mind is reeling…..who is this woman? This housewife from Madrid is out here in the middle of some ancient civilization city site-seeing with two Kenyan girls, and  just now signed up to go trekking for 2 days in the Simien Mountains with some 7 American girls??? Im fascinated by her.

How did she end up here?

Apparently, she came in with a church group to do some ministry work in Addis and when they were finished she decided on a whim to visit the rest of the country which she had read and seen so much about on TV. She wants to go everywhere….even to the south where really no one ever goes…..

I want to ask her so many questions; what does her husband and son think of her just going off like that, what do her church friends think? What is her motivation? How did she and Martie meet? But I choose not to, it really doesn’t matter. At this particular moment she is happy and content and this is what is important.

We talk and talk some more, drink more wine, force Caz to try the local honey wine which we’ve all sampled before and hated…she hates it too…

As the night grows older, I wonder at this little quirky group of 4 eccentric women in the Four Sisters Restaurant. Each oh so different in their own right, brought together by a love for adventure and travel. I have to blink back tears…because right there, in that very moment, I know exactly why I travel……

Dinner is over, and like the girls we are, we take lots of selfies and then walk out into the night….

Martie says we must walk back it’s good for our digestion.

When we get back to the lodge we hug each other tight…we are no longer strangers in the same lodge, we are friends, comrades, compatriots. And when we look into each others eyes and say “see you soon” we really all mean it….because as long as there is travel there is always an opportunity to ran into each other….

Is that Ibiza I hear calling my name?



Intuition and Fake Gold…


Not too long ago someone made me one of those traffic stopping, destiny altering, offers of a lifetime. To say I was blown away would be a gross understatement.

I was bowled over….

I was over the moon…

A few days later, I was supposed to start the groundwork that would enable this “golden opportunity” to happen. I kept stalling…I made a few phone calls, walked into some offices…but really did nothing.

I was baffled at myself…like seriously

Wachu, you don’t realize what’s at stake, why are you dragging your feet?


One day passed, another one went by…. Then I fell sick…

I had a fever, breakouts on my face, my body was in so much pain I could barely move…. it was horrible. A first, I blamed it on the weather, which has been so erratic so I figured the shifting temps might be causing my body to shut down….

I dragged myself to a friends birthday dinner although I could barely eat, and my friends were determined I was with child. The nausea, the heart palpitations…hmmmm…


The next day I decided to try out an old trick that my mother taught me years ago.

I brought out my very unused yoga mat, lit some candles, put on some classic music- Pachelbel and did some deep breathing.

When I was very calm I started thinking through all the stuff in my life, big and small.


As each thought came to the fore of my mind I would ‘listen’ intently to how my body would respond to those thoughts. It was a mish mash of emotions and feelings, but all consistent, my heart, body and brain were all aligned on how they felt about these things.

Work – boring, work no 2. –exciting, family – love, friends- yay, my long-term crush- dreamy sigh, dreams, goals, ambitions.

Then, I started thinking about this “golden opportunity” and it was insane…suddenly; my heart was pounding, I got an instant headache, I was so hot and flushed and thoroughly nauseated…. My body was revolting.

It then occurred to me that this was not a still small voice from the universe saying no, this was a loud, thunderclap, writing in the skies sign that this “opportunity” was just not right.

I decided in that moment that I was not going to do it, even if it killed me. I remember crying, I don’t know if it was tears of sadness or relief…. I was experiencing both emotions in real time. My body immediately felt more energized, I could feel the pressure on my heart easing…. but I was also sad, very sad, what if such a chance never comes again, what if I will grow old and wrinkly and on my death bed I will regret not having gone for it……..

When I told my sisters that I was not taking up the opportunity…one of them said flippantly…I’m glad, it seemed too good to be true…. there will be other chances.

img_20170205_173503It’s been about four days since I made the decision to turn down the opportunity…. it turns out when I started to scrutinize it a little closer…the gold was just cheapie glaze over an earthen vessel…. there were a couple of chinks in there….

I feel lighter, happier and my body and spirit is whole again….


Is there a moral to this story…actually there’s none.

I’m blogging about this so I can remind myself to listen a little closer to my instincts… possibly be a little less trusting, question a little bit more, attempt not to wear my heart on my sleeve much…and yeah…put that yoga mat to use more frequently…:):)


Grow through what you go through….


Love , Peace and Fros

How I Faked my BC and Other Stories

Whoooooaa, it’s been a minute since I last blogged and I have a litany of excuses. Some legit, some hogwash.

Like, I lost my phone and in turn, ALL my photographs from all my travels in 2016. Yes, I know, I hadn’t backed them up, and now all I have left is just the beautiful memories imprinted in my head. Sigh. Legit. Also, I had major writers block, my 2016 muse has been MIA so yeah….Hogwash.

But New Year, new beginnings so here we go.


The other day I was fooling around with my hair and it appeared like I had chopped off my hair. I posted the photograph of my “cut” on Instagram and the reactions were priceless….

There was some love…. I do agree that my cheekbones come through when there’s less hair on my head…. but it could just be holiday weight. Lol

The reactionary gasps and disbelief was what tickled my fancy…. I think Coco Channel (who I love to bits) put us all in some very awkward position when she said, “When a woman cuts her hair, she’s about to change her life”


I got a number of inquests as to what was happening? Had I been dumped, or was I dumping someone, was I making a career move, was I moving house, was I moving country. All very interesting questions simply because I looked like I had cut my hair.

Well, the answers were No, No, Sort Of, I Need to, and heck No….

But the takeaway was singular. I am my hair and I am not my hair.

I could cut my hair simply because I want a change of aesthetic, but more often than not, it heralds a bit more than just a haircut.



However, while I did not cut my hair, thank heavens! I am ready for new beginnings in 2017. 2016 was a darn good year, heck it was great, but anything after 2015 was going to be great. I went in to 2016 with no expectations, no goals, no plans, no resolutions and it turned out splendid on a lot of counts.

They say to let it be if it’s not broken …but I want to be more intentional about 2017. So I have the blueprint for what I want from 2017. I am putting it out there into the universe…so help me God.



2016 was a great year, but there are some things I would rather remain there….

  1. Inauthenticity…lies, duplicity, half-truths you’re not coming with.
  2. Bad eyebrows…. can we all just get over the eyebrow craze. Good lawd.
  3. Drama in the natural hair space…..come on, this is so dated.
  4. Cellulite……no explanation needed.




Love, Peace and Fros.





Listen to Your Hair…..and Your GUT!!!

photo-on-20-08-2016-at-12-04-pm-4When I returned to natural many (read four) years ago, I read this phrase on every other blog and heard countless YouTubers rehash it.

It sounded strange, dare-I- say cultic even…. How do I listen to my hair…?

In my minds eye, I had this vision of my curls stretching and bending to whisper into my ears….”~We need moisture, more love and a lil TLC!~!!” or whatever.

But my tresses were only an inch long….. They were never going to whisper sweet nothings into my ears…. well, not for a long time to come…so I thought.

As time went by, I figured that there were never going to be any whispers. However, there were going to be little and BIG cues everyday that would help me figure out exactly what was going on and what was needed.

If the tresses were craving moisture, the hair would feel rough and brittle. Warm to the touch hair was also a sign of not properly hydrated hair.

Little pieces of broken hair in my sink meant that I was due for a protein treatment. Tangles and single strand knots(SSKs) meant it was time for the dreaded trim.

If I had been eating my greens and keeping hydrated and attempting to exercise, it would show on my hair, and the reverse was true.

Cool to the touch, shiny and bouncy hair meant that we were in a very good place.

Photo on 2-19-16 at 1.19 PM #3.jpg

During my journey there have been constant whispers but there have been times the hair has literally yelled…because I was not listening….

  1. Coconut Oiltwo-coconuts-and-coconut-oil-in-jar-without-lid.jpg

I have a love hate relationship with Coconut oil. The whole world and its mother plus its cousins loves coconut oil…how can we  not like coconut oil…it is so rich and creamy and smells so good. It also has immense benefits, but my hair would have none of that.

Like a love-struck girl I kept insisting on using coconut oil and suffered the effects of dry, straw like hair until one day I painfully let go…well not quite, I still use it as a pre-shampoo oil but I might be letting go fully soon due to recent discoveries.

  1. PROTEINhair_twh_74_03.jpg

Oh how I wanted for my hair to hate protein…after all 1/3 of the naturalista population was protein sensitive (insert eyeroll). It took me a whooping 3 and a half years to listen to my hairs begging and pleading that not only was it not protein sensitive, but it loved protein. Hydrolyzed protein in particular and Henna is bae not a bad boy.

  1. ManipulationDesktop219.jpg

I have a serious case of Hands in Hair syndrome…. like a clingy lover, I can’t keep my hands off my hair…. This constant manipulation is not good because it leads to damaging my fine but dense strands. Which leads to breakage, breakage equals to stunted growth, stunted growth makes me paranoid that my hair is not growing which leads to even more manipulation…..aaarrgh vicious cycle. my hair keeps saying stop the manipulation, I am finally learning to let it go….

As I pen this, my hair is currently saying to me it is NOT feeling my current hairdo…..my scalp is dry, irritated and itchy. I know that if someone said this to me about their hair, I would say without missing a beat…. take it down…it is not worth the damage/stress/ pressure etc. But then I think just how much it cost to get it done as well as the time and effort and mentally make plans to get some Peppermint Essential Oil to try soothe my scalp.

And as I ignore the messages from my hair, I think how this mirrors life choices. How often does my gut tell me something ain’t right, or that the time is now, or countless other messages and I ignore it….Only to bear the brunt of my choices in the not so distant future?

The moral of this rambling….

Listen to your Hair…. and YOUR GUT. There is a voice that has no words. Listen

Don’t Call Me Baby, Call Me Gbegiri…


13932350_10154391468401672_387994336_oOkay, Okay I exaggerate…but this decadent Yoruba Bean Soup dish has had that effect on me….

I was introduced to this dish during my recent travels to Lagos, Nigeria (that blog post is still marinating) . Gbegiri is often served with Amala (Yam meal ) and Ewedu Soup it simply teases and challenges your taste buds and you can’t help but get hooked.

Amala, Gbegiri and Ewedu from a Buka in Ikeja…


The downside though is the effort this dish requires to prepare…..Abby of Tatashey Blog swears you’d have to die on the cross for her to make it for you, while Dunni of Dooney’s kitchen says she must really love you to cook it for you……I’m jumping on this brigade…. I keep wondering to myself, I ate a tonne of amazing dishes in Lagos, why did I have to be blown away by one of the most complex, do I just love the challenge or I’m I just a sucker for punishment….

The first step was trying to find all the right ingredients…..

I thought I could blitz my way using substitutes…Shrimp flavored bullions instead of crayfish, Olive oil in lieu of Palm oil…this and another diversion made certain that my first batch tasted more like baby food and not the luxurious creamy soup that I wanted.

Not one to quit in the quest for good food, {you know what they say; Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all} I found the ingredients and set out to make my second attempt….and boy it was worth every effort!!!


Bean sludge!!

What makes making this dish difficult is that you must peel the beans…..

“Who does that??.”

In my head the only reason I eat beans is for their Thiamine and Vitamin B properties, which are all found in the skin…..but hey, all or nothing….

So sleeves were rolled up, music turned up and the beans were peeled…it was a loooong, arduous, excruciating task. By the time I was done, my hands were all shriveled up by being in water too long …..there truly must be an easier way to do this.

The rest of the process was pretty straightforward.


Palm oil soup; beef , fish and pepper mix.

The resultant dish was amazing……I served it with Ugali and avocado (in true Kenyan fashion) .


Gbegiri Baby….

TMI: Did someone say not to eat beans at night…..? I should have listened, and not scoffed it off as an old-wives-tale. I woke up the next morning so bloated and full of gas…..totally not cool. Consider yourselves warned if you try this at home.


Gbegiri soup with Ugali


Lastly… Is it just me or does Gbegiri look like this fine, baby oil drenched, flag bearer from the Kingdom of Tonga? Me thinks the resemblance is uncanny. #JustSaying


Pita Taufatofua, the man that put Tonga on the map

Recipe and Method Used here. http://dooneyskitchen.com/gbegiri-gbegiri-gbegiri-i-had-to-type-it-three-times/


Lessons From My 25 Year Old Self- Kinda!

7This past weekend I needed to get away for a bit for some R&R. Cue Lenny Kravitz – Fly Away. https://youtu.be/EvuL5jyCHOw

On recommendation from my amazing sister aka my Lifestyle Consultant I found the perfect spot, not too far but far removed from everything and everyone. Perfect price point. Great food , super cool vibes just what the doctor ordered.

During my stay, I met this girl, lets call her Miss. C. She reminded me in so many ways of my 25 years old self. She loves to talk (I don’t)so I learnt quite a lot about her and the pararells were uncanny.

What drew me to her was that this was her first solo trip, (I hope the first of many ). She was abit nervous but also super excited. It reminded me of my first solo vacation many many years ago….bright eyed and nervous, I remember crying so hard on that plane to Johannesburg you would have thought I was being sold to slavery. However, during that trip, the travel bug bit and I’m not hanging up my boots any time soon. But I digress, this story is not about me.


Miss C.

Lessons from Miss. C

On Selfies and Self Love

Selfies are an expression of self love…..

On Happiness

Never do things simply because other people are doing them. Do it because you want to and the timing feels right and it makes sense to you.

On Men

Men don’t like to be told what to do. A man just needs you to be there to listen to him and know that you understand him. Anybody can cook or clean for him but not everybody can hold and cuddle him and be there for him in that way. So if that’s what he needs be that person.

On Relationships

If a relationship is not building you, or is abusive in any way, WALK OUT. Nothing, not society, or lack of financial independence should make you stay.

On Sex

Eeermmm let’s just say she said things that made my ears turn purple…because obviously they can’t turn red.

On feeling

This was not verbally expressed but Miss C. reminded me the joy of truly and genuinely feeling and expressing it regardless. She had some trouble with her computer and her SD card….and everybody…..the whole damn hotel knew she was upset. But in the same breath, we also experienced with her all the things that made her ecstatic. As we grow older, we learn consciously or unconsciously to down play our thrills and upsets for whatever hundred reasons….you don’t tell folks you’re upset because they will judge you, neither do you share your full joys because they will judge you too. Sigh!

As I said goodbye to Miss C. I wanted to hug her tight and wish her a wonderful life not unlike mine. I’m tempted to tell her to breathe gentle and enjoy every step of the journey because life is rude and has zero respect for our neat little packaged timelines for our lives. That imagined timeline with every milestone in chronological order, marked by a neat little dot, exactly when and where it was supposed to happen; rarely happens. But even then it’s a beautiful life.

I want to say to her to nurture her passion for photography and if someday someone offers to pay her for it she should say yes. Not to commercialize her craft but as tribute to her genius.

I feel like I should tell her not to ever do the same destination twice because the World is so huge, there are a gazillion of options hence no point going back to places you’ve visited before.

I want to tell her to always carry a bathing suit and pair of heels even to the jungle or the mountains….because you just never know.

I want to whisper to her to love her boyfriend (who she adoooooores) with every bit of her and to love herself even more. Not because probably one day he won’t feel the same way about her or she will meet somebody else who she will adore even more since such is life. But because there is strength in the ability to love others wholly, yet still love oneself.

But I don’t say this things to her…and I’m okay with that because I can tell (in the words of Kendrick Lamar)

She gon be alright!


I’m gon be alright!!


We all gon be alright!!


My photoshoot in the wild with the lovely lass. 

Food is Love…..

Desktop131.jpgThis post explores two of my favourite guilty pleasures; Food and Books. It has been a long time coming but I just couldn’t find a minute to pen it….A hurting back and forced bed-rest means I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with so here goes…..

When I wrote the post on Mummy’s Mukimo I was reminded of cookbooks….so I decided to see how well or how badly I was doing on this front.

I was pleasantly surprised. I have a quite the decent collection of cookbooks….each with an interesting story of how it came into the fold. Some of my faves are not even legit cookbooks perse just fiction books with great recipes and food stories.


Cooking Explained by Jill Davis Barbara Hammond

 This is the oldest book in my collection. I have had it since High School. It has a plastic cover to protect it and a school stamp to boot.

This book explains the science of food; ingredients, equipment, tools and utensils. etc. It deconstructs how everything in the cooking process works, how raising agents work, conduction, convection etc

I believe understanding this is what makes it so easy for me to cook….I know I swear that food is all heart and soul…but food prep is also an exact science….and either you got it…or you don’t.



Smoothies and Juices

8The green smoothie craze of 2013-2014 made me get this….It has two or three kick ass recipes ..the rest just don’t do it for me….




Julie and Julia by Julie Powell

Any foodie worth their weight in salt knows Julia Childs and have probably heard of her books Mastering the Art of French Cooking. So when I came across this memoir it immediately caught my fancy. Julie Powell challenges herself to recreate each of the 524 recipes in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I like the premise of the book but could not bring myself to finish reading it. The book only makes this list because of Julia Childs and the Art of French Cooking which is dear to my heart.



Old Wives recipes, Authentic Recipes from Korea.

This is a beautiful little book with recipes of all my favorite Korean dishes. Sadly I have only tried one dish, bulgogi, grilled beef. The kimchi chigae and tweji-gogi are on my list of stuff to try soon.



Fast & Simple and Chicken

Inspired Ideas for Everyday Cooking

These amazing books were sent to me by a random stranger turned friend. Sometimes when I cook I share the photos online on Facebook or Instagram. I have made several virtual friends who share my passion for good food. So one day I receive theis message in my facebook inbox.

Hey Wachu,

I’m visiting Kenya from the US, I brought you some cook books . If you are interested please let me know where I can drop them off.


I had never met or talked to Mike, I didn’t even get to meet him when the books were delivered. All he asked was that I share pics of my experiments on Facebook.

Talk about ‘bringing people together with food’……


Pasta Step-by-Step Cookbook

You can never ever go wrong with  pasta. Some of my heartiests meals have been from this book. I picked this book up from Uchumi Sarit Center is all I remember.




Mexican food is bae. My family lives for mexican themed brunches and parties and my mums flour tortillas can rival any mexicans’. One day i’ll be half as good as she is but for now…I’ll just make everything else.



Perfect Parties by Alison Price

I picked up this book at a lovely bookstore at the airport in Mumbai. Books in India are so well priced, I would go back just to buy books. What caught my eye was the vibrant pink cover and the foreword by Sir Elton John. (Of judging books by their cover). It’s a great book with the most exciting chapter on cocktails in addition to all the other aspects of hosting the perfect party.


Betty Crocker’s Entertaining Basics

Learning to entertain with confidence

Growing up I always thought Betty Crocker was a person much like Martha Stewart or Jamie Oliver…shock on me when I discovered she was a creation of General Mills. I’ve always associated the name with delectable food so if this book promises to get me to entertain with confidence heck yeah!!!13


Cooking for Mr. Latte by Amanda Hesse

A food lovers’ courtship with Recipes

This book is a heartwarming account of a food writer and her new beau, their life in the city and unforgettable meals. This book is a delight to the senses and the pallete.


Flan, Grilled Pineapple with Honey, Fresh Strawberries and Cream









French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano

This must be my absolute favourite non- cookbook food book. Mireille in her book contrasts the American and French lifestyle showing how French Women are able to eat pasta, bread, cheese ,chocolate, drink wine and remain slim while the same can’t be said of American Women. Mireille  teaches everything there is to know about eating for sensual pleasure, the art of enjoying cooking, savouring the meal and the drinks that come with it….

Some of my favourite lines from the book

  • French women know l‘amour fait maigrir (love is slimming).

  • French women avoid anything that demands too much effort for too little pleasure.

  • French women choose their own indulgences and compensations.  They understand that little things count, both additions and subtractions, and that as an adult everyone is the keeper of her own equilibrium.

  • French women will dress to take out the garbage (you never know….)

  • French women love chocolate, especially the dark, slightly bitter, silky stuff with its nutty aroma.



Vivre de pain, d’amour, et d’eau fraîche

Live on Bread, love and fresh water….