333 is an odd number. Literally. And it's impressively close to the impending 365, the name and aim of this blog. What do I have to offer to anyone bothering to read this? Very little, as predicted. Recently back from kitchen duty and smelling seriously like fried stuff, before I do some work, I thought I'd kill this post early in the day. I could talk about the enormous amount of yeast-based dough, the cabbage, potato and mushroom and rice fillings, the seemingly endless orders of piroshki and soup, snatches of conversation - but it's not that exciting; you have to be there. Instead, I decided to go with random yet again. Hey, it's an authentic part of life - mine, at least.
Today's photos are examples of objects I've chosen for their design. The first object is Moroccan, the second is - I'm not sure - and the last one I was given by an Iranian (then Persian) acquaintance (on account of my father spending his youth in (then) Persia during the time of the Shah.)