‘A Tale of Two Fish Balls’ – Trini Saltfish Fritters & Grandma’s Gefilte

A plate of Trinidadian fish fritters, alongside Jewish gefilte fish.

Brixton has an energy, a palpable energy, that I love. From the stalls that line Electric Avenue and Atlantic Road, to the shop frontages that spill out onto the streets, there’s often a buzz as the traders go about their business, hollering out the specials, or just casually chit-chatting under the tarpaulin.

This neighbourhood may be attracting the unsavoury attention of developers and landlords, who prefer to see it in terms of profit and turnover, rather than communities and livelihoods. But for now, the markets keep on going, nourishing and sustaining the various communities that call Brixton home: West African, Caribbean, Latin American, and many others besides.

And then there are the outsiders like me, who come for a few hours at a time. Like I am today – making the most of a glorious summer’s day, and a momentary lull in the global pandemic.

So after months where home has been both a haven and a fortress, I’m venturing out of my hibernation, stretching out stiff limbs, breathing in air that seems unusually fresh, and reconnecting with the outside world.

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Eggy Dates at NANDINE – From Kurdistan to Camberwell

Eggy dates at Nandine in Camberwell is the perfect breakfast to showcase Kurdish cuisine

I was born by the mountains. I was born in the mist. Who knows exactly how or when I came to be. All I know is that it was long ago. And that time is best measured in generations and not in years.

I was born from people’s lips, as they gathered around the fireside, my words spilling out in the same breath as their old stories and tales. Words that mingle as they drift over the flames, forming and reforming. And in this way, I am forever being renewed.

And so it is. Generation to generation. From village to village. I am cast through space and time like pollen sailing in the wind.

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