In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true. Buddha

I took a day trip with a friend of mine many years ago to a tiny village to the North Eastern part of Germany. I strutted through the town with my curly hair waving in all possible directions and dark skin, completely oblivious to the shock I was creating in this sleepy homogenous town. My friend and I went into a restaurant to have a meal, and it was then that I felt daggers of stares and glares from everywhere.

As I tried desperately to ignore the number of eyes that were observing my existence and every move, I noticed that one pair of those eyes belonged to a little girl. She was not glaring or whispering, making comments nor pointing. She was simply looking and had an open look of curiosity on her face.

Her bright blue eyes were glued to me, and I smiled at her. We spent minutes playing a game of stare and smile and look away, until she finally gained enough courage to confront me. She approached me with a timid smile and tugged at my arm, asking me why I look so dark.

I recalled a story that my mother told me when I was a little girl about her age. There was a gorgeous bouquet of flowers on the counter and I pointed to them asking the little girl what she thought of them. They are beautiful, she said. “I love flowers and so does my mom” she proudly replied. I asked her which flowers she likes, and she responded that she likes so many of them and could not possible choose just one.

I then asked the little girl to think about how the world would be if all the flowers in the world were all exactly the same-the same colour, the same shape and size, the same everything. She made up her face immediately and said that would be “really boring.”

I told her that the world is just like a huge flower garden, except that the flowers are the people. People come in different colours, shapes and sizes, to make up the beautiful garden of the world.

The little girl looked somewhat confused and after a few seconds of ponder and big wide eyes, asked me if that meant that I am just a normal lady like my mom with curly black hair and dark skin?

I smiled and nodded my head and she embraced me so beautifully, so purely-so innocently. 

Her parents then called out to her telling her that her “Kartoffelpuffer mit Apfelmüss (potato fritters with applesauce),” were ready (potato pancakes with apple sauce), and she ran off looking back at me smiling and waving.

I will never forget that interaction, and I hope that she holds it warmly within her memory bank as well.

Each time I eat Kartoffelpuffer, I remember that little girl. I hardly eat potatoes anymore, but use sweet potatoes generously in my diet. I wanted something that gave me the same warm and cozy feeling of the Kartoffelpuffer and these really hit the spot! My daughter loves them with apple sauce. Enjoy!

This recipe made its debut in our household my mistake. I had just made a pot of popcorn and was reaching high and far within my cupboard to get the salt, when the bottle of turmeric fell over and landed in my freshly, perfectly popped pot of popcorn.

I continued to find the salt and added it with a bit of coconut oil, instead of butter, and what came out was absolutely delicious!

We love snacking on this for our movie nights, and usually make this version along with the “usual” version with a bit of butter, sprinkled with sea salt. 

Give this one a try. You may be converted!

He turned around and smiled a smile so wide, so beautiful, so loving, as he ran across the street towards me, and I ran to meet him. As my body clashed against his, we embraced, cried and screamed. 

After our elongated embrace, I looked over his shoulders and saw four curious eyes peering at me. One set of eyes was smiling and the other set of eyes looked rather disturbed.

Carl slipped his hands into mine, as we headed over to meet them.

“Paula, this is Gerald, my husband.” The tall handsome man looked down and attempted a smile, as he shook my hands.

“…and this is Pat our Son.” The dark-haired, button-eyed 8 year old boy was jumping up and down on the spot and smiling away, nodding his head with a knowingness that connected us immediately.  Then he winked his right eye at me, slipped his little hands into mine, just as his father had done, and we all made our way into my flat to enjoy a most unexpected and glorious three days. 

One of the countless dishes that I had made was a coconut pancake wrap, stuffed them with avocado, and drizzled it with some lemon yogurt sauce. It makes for a very satisfying and healthy meal or appetizer.