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Quote by Anna Godbersen

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Splendor

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Anna Godbersen
Anna Godbersen

Anna Godbersen is an American author known for her young adult literature. Born on April 10, 1980, she graduated from Columbia University. Godbersen's works are typically set in New York City, depicting the stories of teenagers from the upper class. more

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“POEM FOR SOUKAÏNA” **** To tell of my new Moroccan Love, Ô, I court her everyday. But just as a pearl in the mud is a pearl, So is my Love just an Arab girl… in that I offer her constant, loving woos, but she’ll ask me in return that I give her flooze*. That’s when I kiss her and shrug, and I say, “Someday.” And she gives me her love free anyway. * * * Ô, my Love is a child of the souks. In Casablanca born. A gypsy thief, “Soukaïna” named. We met in the souks of Marrakech, It was here my heart she tamed. Ô, she came at nineteen to Marrakech, In search of wild fun. And she lived in Marrakech seven years, Before my heart she won.”

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“We will be making pancakes. Oh, not for now, of course. But for later, we have crêpes aux mille trous, and harira soup, with lemons and dates. At Ramadan, everyone fasts, but we think about food all the time; we buy food, we prepare food, we offer food to our neighbors, we even dream of food- that is, if this wind allows us to sleep. I will bring some Moroccan sweets; some macaroons, and gazelle's horns, and almond meringues, and chebakia.”

Food For ThoughtPastriesSweetsMoroccan
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“Pulling out a stick of lilac chalk, Dina added "besotted briouats" to the list, followed by "rosy-cheeked ghriba." The briouats--- melt-in-your-mouth filo pastry filled with honey and almonds--- were heavenly, even without the spell that made you feel like you'd been kissed on the forehead by a loved one. The ghriba, decadently soft sugar cookies with rosewater essence and lemon zest, were laced with a spell to warm up the fingers and toes.”

Magical RealismPastriesMoroccanCafe Food
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“For spring and summer, Dina baked delicate and light pastries fragranced with rosewater, meskouta orange bundt cake, and delicate raspberry macarons. When strawberries were in season in early June, she made airy fraisier cake. For autumn and winter, Dina worked with heavier ingredients: thick, dark chocolate, cinnamon, cardamom, gingerbread, and pumpkin. As the days grew colder and the light dimmed earlier and earlier, people started to crave that feeling of warmth and comfort. And Dina would give that to them, even if only for a short while. One special bake for this season was a ginger and persimmon cake, yellowed with saffron strands, which Dina had bought on her last trip to Morocco, and fresh vanilla pods, their sweet scent so potent that it wafted across the café. This was in addition to all the regular pastries and cakes she had on offer, which were all recipes her mother had taught her to bake. The cake made with dark honey from the Atlas mountains was an all-time customer favorite. Dina had imbibed it with a very specific spell, a childhood memory of a time that she must have fallen asleep on a car ride home, and although she was a little too big to be carried, she remembered her father lifting her into his arms, her mother closing the car door softly so as not to wake her, then carrying her upstairs and tucking her into bed. When she'd been fashioning the spell for the first time, it had occurred to Dina that one day your parents put you down and they never picked you up again, and so she'd made the honey cake to recreate that feeling of childhood comfort. That sensation of someone taking the utmost care of you, holding you close, was a feeling that many in the rushing city of London didn't experience often. Sometimes she wondered if she was really in the business of café ownership, or if she was more of a fairy godmother in disguise. Undeniably, the magical pastries were great at keeping customers coming back for more, so that was a bonus on the businesswoman side of things.”

Magical RealismPastriesChildhood MemoryCafeSeasonalBakerMoroccanBusinesswomanCottage Witch
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