The oldest passarella to eternity.. The land of the longest game of ‘musical chairs’.. Ever swayed under masterminds.. Stampeded under infinite ambitions.. Conveyed all-time wisdom.. Let Odysseys.. Epopes.. Exoduses .. Still the warmest cradle of man.. Lost languages, alphabets, codes waiting their turn to be revealed..
Exuberance? Never.. Only a reverent salute to this peninsula on this very occasion.. Anatolia is a ‘free of charge’ time capsule of our nearly wasted planet.. It is open to all degrees.. No membership nor any prepay is needed..
So.. This fresh broadcast bears two emblematic tags like food and music.. Well.. Either is enough to crash tons of accounts.. I have the humblest intention of using the above aphorism once – and for all – again.. They both are time capsules as well.. Food.. And music.. In a row.. In some cases, quite later, these rows have been switched occasionally; but for ages, mankind ate first.. Then came music with all its grace.. Maybe grace took its time anyway.. But it is certain that these two vital needs are the twin time capsules..
Food..What we ate, eat, have eaten, are going to eat, never ate.. Should eat.. Changed.. Will be changing endlessly.. But its subject never changes: our species.. Past and present.. Seamless throughout history, from fossilized seeds and wine remnants to the alternative protein sources of today.. Food tells human tales.. Ceramic, wooden, copper, silver, or gold.. Tableware and cutlery speak.. Tell, inform, wait to decode.. All about what we have done is the history of food.. And it began in Anatolia.. The Agrarian was the first chef.. Solemn and down to earth.. Respectful to local supplies.. Godly content.. Left the most wise footprints.. Then came the Bacchic.. Started the end.. Earliest blessing of abundance and excess.. With the Dionysiac accompaniment of music..
Anatolia an ever dry sponge.. Magneted, magnified whatever it hosted.. Let the music play.. Music was named here.. Baptised, prospered.. Everywhere.. Festive and every day.. Every hour.. Under every shelter.. Under the sun, under the stars.. Mingled all.. The passerby or resident.. Music tells, speaks, records.. In minds, in memories, on clay, on air.. No power is able to delete or remove or mute.. Hope this outlet will remain as a fertile ground for contributors just like Anatolian soil.. Stay tuned..