Archives for posts with tag: onions

I’m working on my piece about our experience volunteering in the warehouse and the camp in Calais a few weeks ago.  In the meantime, the Calais Kitchens women in this video were the ones who inspired us to come, and whom we met when there.  I deeply respect and trust them.  They are asking for donations of (tinned) chickpeas, tomatoes and fish, as well as cooking oil and ONIONS! Please no pasta.

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This came up automatically on Youtube. It’s beautiful and absolutely heartbreaking.

Bonjour and Bore Da, Johnny Onion, selling your wares from a bicycle, your blue eyes twinkling as you offer me a head of garlic.   You’ve come all the way from Brest in Brittany to spend these months in Wales, basing yourself in Cardiff, trekking around selling strings of onions, shallots and garlic.  You are part of a long tradition of French onion sellers spending autumn months in Britain.  It’s an absolute pleasure to buy these onions from you.

In the old days, if you were from Roscoff and a speaker of Breton, perhaps you and Welsh speakers would have been able to figure some things out together.  Today, as it was, we spoke in English as I didn’t dare venture with my bad French.

Thank you for these lovely strong onions.  They are beautifully coloured with pink, have a potent smell and peppery taste.  You can see in the photograph below they are very fresh, glistening with moisture.  I get a good, proper welling up of stinging tears when I chop them.

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