When I was in primary four, my sister and I made homemade gifts for each of our teachers for the end of term. Forget the cliché of a shining red apple come summertime, we rolled up our sleeves and made what I suppose you could call a kid-friendly rocky road. A very simple blend of…
I can remember the first time I ate lebkuchen. Sadly it wasn’t wrapped up warm against a biting chill in Berlin, a glass of mulled wine in my hand sampling one offered to me by a curly-moustached German man, but in language class in primary school. In between renditions of ‘O Tannenbaum’ and ‘Silent Nacht’,…