o da bizimle Kars’a geldi, buğday tarlalarında bizimle dağıttı, göl kenarında sakinleşti, sonra da bu yazıyı yazdı blogunda:
Through the Grain Fields of Kars
“…. When I landed in Kars last week, the place immediately felt familiar. At first I thought the sensation was brought on by sleep deprivation. My mind was racing, I hadn’t slept for 30 hours and I had taken four flights to reach the small town in far eastern Turkey. And this was after 4 days of researching wines at L’Auberge de Chassignolles. Frankly, I felt a bit insane. But in the days that followed, I realized the familiarity was real. I had met Kars before.
My introduction came in the form of Şemsa Denizsel’s sourdough bread. Loaves of the stuff have crossed my lips, sometimes slathered in butter, or soaked in glistening sweetbread fat, once with sliced tongue and horseradish and many times toasted and fashioned around melted ewe’s milk cheese. In each case, the bread was made from the stone ground wheat of Kars. The place was already part of me….”
yazının aslını ve tamamını okumak isterseniz burada.