If you had enough money, where would you choose to live? I've lived in big cities (New York, Johannesburg) and now live on top of a hill on a farm in Northern Ireland. I love the peace and quiet here, but looking forward to visiting Johannesburg and its buzz at the end of the year. C'mon, let's have it. What's your dream?

@Ida Keogh is an award winning writer who loves food. Yay!

Hi @Michael Teferi. Please will you post the original draft of your poem so folks can see the transformation we’ve worked on? (And well done - I look forward to the next one). 🥰

When I eat sushi and hibachi, they certainly look like a beautiful mosaic of flavors that encapsulate the very idea of love, togetherness, and true cuisine. The aromas that drift from them are lots of meat, heat, and enticement. As I bite into it, I can hear the sounds of wondrous meat that feels so tasty and juicy, plus the fork. I feel the textures of tasty salmon, sweet tuna, enjoyable filet mignot, and juicy chicken. These flavors unfold as a true appreciation of the craft of pure, unadulterated Japanese cooking and cuisine that has aesthetically pleasing and inspiring tastes associated with the mastery of wonderful Japanese chefs, no question about it.

I hope you agree when I say that drinks are a natural extension of food writing. I once wrote a series on cocktails for the Financial Mail. Here's my piece on the Martini. Comments would be hugely appreciated. A CLASS ACT America has given us more varieties of cocktails than you can shake a swizzle stick at. But for reasons purely selfish the martini, now seriously back in fashion, is my focus. Because a martini cuts to the quick, so to speak. No stupid little umbrellas to deal with, no fruit syrups in outlandish colours. I discovered the venerable martini when I lived in Manhattan and fell in love with Grand Central Station. I’d mosey down to the Oyster Bar and watch business people take a detour on their way home for some oysters – and that perfect martini. It was during the Prohibition in the early 1900s that the martini became the darling of the in-crowd. And, fashion often being born of necessity - and since gin was easier to make than whiskey - bathtub gin became the order of the day. According to Roman Slepica, owner of Blind Tiger in Jo’burg’s Parkview (an eatery and bar for grownups) says, “The drink is seemingly simple but can go so wrong, too. Always keep in mind that the less Vermouth, the drier the martini.” Aficionados are very specific about the degree of dryness. For instance, an extra-dry martini begs for the Vermouth bottle to be waved, very briefly, across the top of the shaker. (It is said that Winston Churchill enjoyed his ice-cold gin after bowing briefly in the direction of France in homage to the source of Vermouth). If you’re at a self-respecting cocktail bar – such as Blind Tiger - and yearn for a martini, the questions you should be asked are, whether you want gin or vodka. Then, shaken, stirred, or straight up (only if the glass had been chilled). Then, a twist (of lemon peel) or olives. Unless you want a dirty martini: the olives in this case aren’t washed, and a splash of the liquid in which the olives arrived, are added to the mix.