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When the spiced kulfi of India, becomes the fragrant bastani of Persia, becomes the aromatic bouza of Levant, becomes the fruity gelato of Italy, becomes the tangy sorbet of France, becomes the creamy ice cream of England.

Become one big bowl of frozen desserts with different flavors, colors, aromas and textures.

Just like us people.

 

Chairs around the wooden table.  Tablecloth of charming blue elephants.  Purple daisies in a glass vase.  And a simple chicken dinner.

That’s all it is.  A simple chicken dinner.  Made with love.  Served with love.  Shared with love.

It tastes of love.

In an abundant kitchen, of a fine home, in a magnificent city, of a prosperous country, a mother hides the leftover cake from the children.  They had too much cake.

In a bare kitchen, of a frail home, in a dusty village, of an unfortunate country, a mother stirs the empty pot until the children fall asleep.  They never tasted cake.