As I eagerly prepare to head to Cardomom County in a few days to contribute some of my time and efforts to Raxa Collective on site, I’m packing up my apartment in Paris and thinking of the irony of leaving my little pot of coriander in the window for fields of spices in Kumily. I was growing coriander, basil and parsley – and before that, these lovely flowers my mother got me during her visit several months ago.

Growing my own herbs was a fun way to keep the kitchen an innovative little atelier. Basil was a must for anything remotely Italian, or Thai if I got so daring; parsley was hard to know what to do with at times but got its fair share of dicing in with many miscellaneous creations; and then of course there’s coriander, my preferred name for which is cilantro as I grew up with the herb in its Mexican context of carne asada tacos and guacamole. An absolute favorite flavored flora of mine.

In some countries, the mores of a city-dweller’s everyday life can somehow keep “environmental friendliness” in those darned quotation marks, and make the concept seem as remote as the rainforest. Continue reading →