into the wilderness we go,
mãma and me.

dad stays in the car with a frown'ish smile . 
mumbling something about coming home 
with a bag filled with lily's of the valley
on last years ramsons hunt.

we walk,
somewhere in-between modern flats 
seemingly shooting up from the ground like weeds   

old beautiful doctors villas,
where the white pillars stand strong, every brick has a history
and from the big, round and majestic windows
I believe I'm hearing debussy playing the piano.

past the house where TB-patients 
would sit just a few decades ago on american-style porches. 
maybe with blankets laid over their legs, getting fresh air into failing lungs.

and through thickets. twigs graze my bare ankles as 
the old St.Maria institution towers behind me in the distance, 

we walk free on the grounds where sedated wild souls
used to walk like ghosts. in circles.

and here.
right next to a diner
where we spent a year tearing down walls,
washing mossy green-house windows
and I, in wonder watched a dear friend hand-paint poetry 
around the room while baking my pies and being somewhat in pieces.
where I too on days walked like a ghost 
circling between a beautiful glass house filled with dinner guests
and a situation filled with growing pains, 

outside there.
where the grove opens up.
between sun rays
and wild souls,

there is a field of wild garlic.

whilst my dad might or might not see the difference between lily-leaves and ramsons he makes a mean wild pesto.

Stay hungry  Stay soulfulish'



| words, soul searching & recipe by emma lemholt |

| all photography by hannah lemholt |
| image n°1 ramsons on vintage market tray from  Love Warriors |
| supporting my words is debussy's claro de luna |



psomí bakery & Dr. Singh's clinic.
where the scent of freshly baked 
greek bread 
indian spices filled the air,

right there.

if a you, from back in time
would have walked by,
and stopped
on the corner of Lakeside Road and
Fox Lane,

yes. if that you, would've stood still 
right there, only for a moment.
you could have heard
the sound of 'solitude' 
coming from the open doors
of the roof terrace above.

maybe you would've felt
the spices.
freshly grounded cardamom and cloves,
ginger, cinnamon and star anis,
making their way towards you. 

and maybe the sound and the scent
would've made you gaze up to see me there;

cup in one hand. book in the other.

and perchance I would've felt it 
and raised my eyes
to see you.
standing there in the street.

perhaps we could've sat together. in solitude.
squinting our eyes through early summer haze
until we could see Alexandra Palace
in the distant park across the hills.

maybe we could've shared stories, 
shared bread from psomí bakery.
wave at Dr. Singh walking by.
and sip on indian spiced chai au lait.

Stay hungry  Stay soulfullish'



| all words,  chai making & recipe by emma lemholt |
| all photography by hannah lemholt |
| image n°1 & n°4 are portraits of me from -08 |
| chai au lait soundtrack; solitude performed by ryuichi sakamoto |



if you peek'd in here before 
you know; I had a 
s i t u a t i o n 
not that long ago.

this here is a totally different story,
this is my peace of cake,
I'm talking about soulfood.

three layers of creamy serene,
completely raw & filled with so much goodness
it makes me wanna do a happy dance


the road to this cake-bliss is surprisingly simple,

throw away the fake flour,
chuck the big headed butter &
kick that two faced sugar to the curb. 

let go of what doesn't serve you,
hold on to simple, clean & fresh.

peace of cake, peace of mind.
I'm talking about soulfood.

Stay hungry  Stay soulfullish'



| all words, cake making & recipe by emma lemholt |
| all photography by hannah lemholt |
| soundtrack to this peace of cake & happy dance
 is Leela James's Soul Food |
if I'm short on time; two jars of renée voltaires 
'heavenly spread, cashew & sesamebutter' works a charm
as a stand in for makin' your own cashew butter |



my first clear memory of chocolate
was going with my mãma 
to a chocolaterie.

I don't remember the taste.

no, it was the adorable older man behind the counter 
that first caught my attention.
a dreamlike walk up to the glassed cabinets
holding what seemed to be a million different kinds 
of truffles, fudges & dragés.

behind the confections stood the chocolatier. 

umber skinned & mocha eyed. 
dressed in a white, 
almost cinematic looking, apothecary-like uniform.
wearing cotton gloves as if he was handling
the most valuable art. 

my memory tells me 
I was given three different kinds of pralines, 
but it could have been five, ten or even twenty.

so with an uncertain amount of sweet nibbles & a hot chocolate
we sat down, mãma and me, in an atmosphere of 
crisp white walls & minimalism that 
generously allowed the chocolate to shine.

but for me it was the chocolatier
that stole the show.

Stay hungry  Stay soulfullish'



| all chocolate-art, words & recipe by emma lemholt |
| all photography by hannah lemholt |
| shared here is the recipe of the cacao nibs seen in 
image no4, 'cause they are extra delish' | 
| the gold-leaf seen on the truffles in image no5 was a gift from Japan 
-where the gorgeousness & refined aesthetics of all food is as important as the taste- 
 I was also told our body's contain gold, 
now I think it wise to
follow in the Nihonjin's footsteps; 
refill that inner mine & shine shine shine. |
images supporting the chocolate is of amazing fares fares shot by johan renck
found in; the last magazine issue  #11 fall 2013 |



let me tell you about my love affair with mr Joe;
the crush started, long before I ever had my first sip, 
with an aroma coming from the roastery of my childhood town. 
a scent of freshly ground coffee filling the air, 
filling my nostrils & filling my soul. 
settling there, safely waiting.

until I was sixteen and smitten.
an infatuation that never since ceased to exist,
at times taken in different shapes and forms.
sometimes changing with the season and the mood.
but always faithfully there.

and today
I am head over heels with my java on the rocks.  

and we ask ourselves;
~is this really healthy?
well my dear, like all love stories;
~ it's complicated.

it has it's magic benefits;
boosting our energy with caffeine,
filling us up with healthy antioxidants, manganese, 
magnesium, potassium, niacin, vitamin B2 and B5. 

and as for the complicated bits...
lets leave that aside. for now.
because today I want to think of love this way,

Stay hungry  Stay soulfullish'


| all words, coffee making & recipe by emma lemholt |
| all photography by hannah lemholt |



this cake looks fairly simple, right?
well it wasn't.

not because of the recipe or the ingredients or the taste, no. 

but 'cause my mãma has a habit of cleaning out 
and throwing important things away.

like cake-tins, spatulas or half of a mixer.

and with my head in dark cabinets
searching for lost kitchen parts

I hear my dad from the living room;

 -she also threw away my crocodile-skin cowboy-boots
that I bought in 1975.
where are they!? no one knows!


see how the cream on the cake looks grainy?
that's 'cause the cake went in and out 
the freezer atleast five times.

first time out it was perfect.
the cashew cream was like a smooth mirror. 
the surface of a calm lake, like the ultimate cheesecake.
but between dad buying a new cake-tin, 
me mixing and talking about life with the cleaning-lady, 
hannah finding her camera, blending again, 
having some coffee, loosing daylight 
wrestling with the plastic foil, 

this is what happened. 
g r a i n y.

no, this was {no} piece of cake

but I'm in the midst of daydreamers 
and mind wanderers.
that's worth much more
than any perfect key lime pie.*

Stay hungry  Stay soulfullish'



| all words and cookery (even failed ones) by emma lemholt |
| all photography by hannah lemholt |
| * this cake tasted a m a z i n g so don't be put off, just 
make sure you have all your ducks in a row |