The cobbled path winding up and down made me slightly breathless as we hurried to make our way downtown to the Anne Frank house. Bikes flew pass me along the narrow paths next to the beautiful canal. To the left, I could see beautiful brick homes with wide windows, stacked side by side like lego. I tucked my beige scarf tighter around my frozen cheeks, trying to keep the chill out. I couldn’t believe how cold it was – its already May for goodness sake.
The Anne Frank wasn’t hard to spot – the lines of tourist speaking different languages and tall blond Dutch guards trying to keep people from entering into the building. From the distance, I could see a beautiful black and white picture of Anne Frank behind the glass windows. I had forgotten how young she was. Her innocent smile and twinkling eyes pierced my heart.
I have always loved history, especially European history. Zoe and I spent two years studying WWII history and the soviet union in in high school. My teacher made the stories so real. I worked extremely hard because I fell in love with her tragic story. I even made a checkered red and white journal just like hers in 6th grade. Anne Frank has a special place in my heart.
After waiting in line to get in the building, I finally started the tour around her home – the home that kept her captive for 2 years from the age of 14-16. Her Jewish descent made her a victim of the Nazi extermination. She recorded deep thoughts of a teenage girl in hiding, fearing for her life every day. When she found out she was going in hiding, she had to choose between giving up her dresses and marbles for a journal – which she later said kept her sane within the walls of the annex. The rooms were awfully small and the steps were extremely steep. In her journal, she wrote about not being able to turn on the tap in the mornings, the lack of food and the arguments they had living with another family in the small cramped annex.
Her life in this house marked the last moments of “happiness” in her life before they were caught by the Gestapo (Nazi police) and sent to concentration camps. After being separated from her parents, the accumulation of typhoid fever, starvation and mistreatment lead to her death just months later.
As I left I started to think about all her “what if’s” – if she lived today would have love to write blog posts like I do? If she went to university would she have studied journalism or literature? Her could-haves were long gone and have now become my opportunities. Everything and anything I had and have would have been a blessing in her life.
To be brutally honest, I haven’t always believed life has been kind to me. There are moments when I have doubted the purpose and the value of my existence. But this sobering experience was a timely reminder, perhaps a wake-up call, that life itself is a gift enough.
Today we are sharing a affordable and simple homemade coconut milk recipe. Despite the initial hesitation, we decided to go ahead and share this super super simple recipe. I’m learning that even the simplest of all recipes like this one is worth appreciating and sharing. Just the mere excitement we both exuded whilst making our first homemade vegan milk is a memory precious enough to record down. It was even more exciting when we tasted our first vegan fennel coconut soup – which was bomb! (Perhaps another recipe sometime?)
Try substituting tinned coconut milk with this homemade version in curries, stews, soups – I think you’ll find It an absolutely delightful substitute1 It has a much cleaner finish and also lower in fat. 
- 1 cup desiccated coconut
- 2 cups of water
- Place coconut and water into a blender. Blend a couple times until the liquid is milky.
- Poor through a cheesecloth or nut milk bag (GET 10% Off Elle's Best nut milk bag by using the code: unconventional)
- Squeeze to get all the excess liquid out.
- Store the milk in the fridge for up to a week OR use immediately.
- Spread out the excess coconut onto a pan to dehydrate/dry for 24 hours (time will vary depending on humidity levels).
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