Osprey aircrew train with lifeboat for sea rescues
American military aircrew have performed sea rescue exercises off the Norfolk coast.
Two Osprey helicopters from RAF Mildenhall in Suffolk took part alongside Caister's lifeboat team.
Each crew attempted to lower winching strops - used to rescue personnel from the water - on to the lifeboat deck.
Lt Hailey Malay from USAF 352nd Special Operations Wing described the training as crucial for both teams.
The Bell Boeing V-22 Osprey is a tiltrotor military transport and cargo aircraft, which can take off and land vertically like a helicopter but fly like a plane.
The craft, stationed at RAF Mildenhall in 2013, are capable of flying at 315mph (507km/h).
Monday's exercise was conducted to train crews as the fleet begins its return to active service.
Lt Malay said two air crew practiced several times to lower a winching strop on to the lifeboat deck while each was travelling ahead, requiring both the pilot and lifeboat skipper to maintain the same speed and bearing.
She added: "We could be called on for a variety of personnel recovery operations.
"Imagine a distress call comes in, someone is injured on a boat far out at sea and they need urgent medical attention.
"That's where the Osprey, with its unique capabilities comes in, we can quickly reach those in need, even in challenging weather."
Caister coxswain Guy Gibson said: "It's a totally different winching procedure to our coastguard, so we learned a lot and I think it was a good exercise for them."
Follow Norfolk news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.
£43m Ospreys land at Suffolk airbase
US grounds entire Osprey fleet after fatal crash
Six bodies found from US Osprey crash near Japan
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Time Business News
2 hours ago
- Time Business News
How Global Flavors Are Shaping Local Kitchens
The modern kitchen is undergoing a quiet but profound revolution, as global flavors increasingly find their way into everyday cooking. No longer are international spices, ingredients, and recipes confined to restaurants or specialty stores. From neighborhood markets to home pantries, global cuisines are redefining the palette of home cooks and professional chefs alike. This cross-cultural exchange is more than a passing trend—it's a reflection of an interconnected world where travel, technology, and curiosity fuel culinary evolution. Local kitchens are becoming melting pots of ideas, where Thai lemongrass meets Italian risotto, or Korean gochujang enhances an American BBQ marinade. These fusions are not only enriching the way we eat but also expanding our understanding of identity, heritage, and hospitality. As ingredients once considered exotic become familiar, the boundaries between global and local blur, making room for exciting new expressions of food culture in every corner of the world. One of the most influential forces behind the shift toward global flavors is the growing cultural curiosity among consumers. With easier access to travel, online recipes, and social media, people are exposed to a variety of global cuisines more frequently than ever before. This exposure fosters a sense of culinary adventure, where trying new dishes becomes a way of connecting with other cultures. Food bloggers, cooking shows, and online marketplaces now make it simple to replicate international recipes at home. Ingredients such as miso paste, harissa, or sumac are no longer niche items—they are increasingly becoming pantry staples for adventurous cooks. This trend isn't limited to urban centers; even small-town grocery stores are expanding their offerings to include a broader range of spices, sauces, and grains from around the world. Immigrant communities have always played a vital role in reshaping local food culture. Their influence is visible not just in restaurants and food trucks but also in mainstream supermarkets, school cafeterias, and family dinner tables. Through food, immigrants preserve their heritage while simultaneously introducing host communities to new culinary traditions. These communities often become the initial bridge between global flavors and local adoption. A wave of Korean immigrants might lead to an increase in kimchi availability, while a growing Indian population could result in more spice aisles stocked with turmeric, cardamom, and garam masala. This organic process enriches the local food landscape, creating a more inclusive and diverse dining experience for everyone. Technology has made it easier than ever to bring global flavors into the home kitchen. Video tutorials, virtual cooking classes, and AI-powered recipe recommendations offer tailored guidance on how to cook dishes from virtually any region in the world. With just a few clicks, users can learn how to fold dumplings like a Chinese grandmother or grill jerk chicken with authentic Caribbean spice blends. Mobile apps and grocery delivery services also support this shift. Consumers can order specialty ingredients online and have them delivered within hours, overcoming geographic limitations. Furthermore, cooking communities on social media create platforms for dialogue and idea exchange, fostering a sense of global kitchen camaraderie among amateur and professional chefs alike. Fusion cuisine exemplifies the creativity sparked by global influences in local kitchens. This approach blends elements from multiple culinary traditions to create new, innovative dishes that defy rigid categorization. Think of sushi burritos, Korean tacos, or Indian-inspired pizzas—these are the results of fearless experimentation and cultural cross-pollination. This culinary creativity is not limited to high-end establishments. Home cooks are also embracing fusion by adding international ingredients to familiar dishes, such as incorporating Japanese miso into French onion soup or using Mexican mole sauce over Italian pasta. While purists may argue against altering classic recipes, fusion represents an evolving dialogue between traditions rather than a dilution of them. Street food is often the first point of contact many people have with a new cuisine. It offers a raw, unfiltered taste of a culture's culinary identity and is frequently more approachable than formal dining experiences. Iconic street foods like Vietnamese banh mi, Turkish döner, and Thai pad Thai have inspired millions of home cooks to recreate these dishes in their kitchens. The appeal of street food lies in its bold flavors, quick preparation, and strong ties to local culture. As these dishes gain popularity, adaptations emerge to suit local ingredients and dietary preferences. This process leads to exciting new hybrids and encourages cooks to explore street-style cooking techniques like grilling, stir-frying, or flatbread baking in their own homes. Popular street food-inspired dishes now common in home kitchens include: Vietnamese banh mi sandwiches with local twists Korean bulgogi tacos with Mexican seasoning Middle Eastern shawarma wraps with fresh greens Indian chaat-style salads using local produce Global flavors introduce a rich variety of spices, herbs, and condiments that expand the flavor vocabulary of local cuisines. This has led to a boom in pairing experiments where traditional dishes are elevated or transformed with international elements. For example, adding za'atar to scrambled eggs or pairing chimichurri sauce with roasted root vegetables brings entirely new flavor dimensions to everyday meals. In this age of culinary experimentation, even non-edible experiences contribute to the sensory world of food. Many people are now incorporating complementary scent and taste pairings in their cooking environment. For instance, vape juices with fruit or dessert-inspired profiles can mirror or contrast the aromatic tones of a dish. While not a direct part of the meal, these aromas enhance the dining atmosphere, blurring the line between consumption and olfaction in creative, lifestyle-driven kitchens. The rise of celebrity chefs, influencers, and online culinary personalities has accelerated the adoption of global flavors. These figures serve as culinary ambassadors, introducing audiences to lesser-known ingredients and preparation methods. When a renowned chef highlights a Peruvian pepper or a Filipino dessert on their platform, it often sparks curiosity and demand among followers. Moreover, cooking influencers from diverse backgrounds are sharing family recipes and cultural insights, further enriching the global food conversation. These creators are not only teaching viewers how to cook but also fostering cultural appreciation and reducing stereotypes through storytelling and shared experiences. Global cuisines often align naturally with modern health and sustainability movements. For example, many traditional Asian diets emphasize vegetables, legumes, and fermented foods—principles now echoed in plant-based and gut-health-centric lifestyles. Similarly, Mediterranean diets, rich in olive oil, fish, and whole grains, are celebrated for their cardiovascular benefits. Sustainability is also a driver. Foods that are staples in certain cultures—like millet in parts of Africa or tempeh in Indonesia—are now gaining recognition for their lower environmental impact compared to mainstream Western ingredients. By embracing these elements, local kitchens become more eco-conscious and nutritionally balanced while enjoying the added benefit of global flavor depth. Sustainability-focused global ingredients making local impact: Legumes like lentils and chickpeas Fermented foods such as kimchi and sauerkraut Whole grains including quinoa and barley Plant-based proteins like tofu and tempeh More than just a practical activity, cooking has become a means of storytelling and self-expression. For people with multicultural backgrounds, blending flavors is a way to navigate their dual or multiple identities. A Nigerian-American home cook might blend jollof rice with Cajun spices, while a Japanese-Brazilian chef might serve mochi filled with tropical fruits. In families caring for aging relatives, food often becomes a way to preserve heritage and provide comfort, particularly when navigating complex caregiving needs such as those addressed through Arizona Guardianship, which helps ensure that elderly loved ones receive proper support in critical life areas. Cooking global flavors at home creates an intimate space for cultural reflection and creativity. This phenomenon turns kitchens into laboratories of identity, where people can reconnect with their roots or explore entirely new culinary frontiers. Sharing these dishes, whether on social media or around a dinner table, becomes an act of cultural exchange and personal narrative. The infusion of global flavors into local kitchens marks a significant cultural and culinary evolution. As tastes diversify and boundaries dissolve, the way we cook and eat becomes a reflection of a more connected, inclusive world. This shift is driven by curiosity, technology, migration, sustainability, and a renewed appreciation for cultural nuance. Whether inspired by a family recipe, a travel memory, or a viral cooking video, global flavors are finding their place in homes everywhere. Ultimately, the future of cooking lies not in preserving strict culinary lines but in celebrating the fluidity and fusion that global ingredients bring. As local kitchens continue to absorb and reinterpret international influences, they create something wholly unique—a personal, ever-evolving menu that reflects both the world's diversity and our shared love for flavor. TIME BUSINESS NEWS
The Hill
a day ago
- The Hill
This Father's Day, remember the invisible weight that many dads carry
This Father's Day, many families will fire up the grill, hand out neckties or whiskey bottles, and celebrate the steady presence of the men who raised them. We honor the sacrifices dads make — their hard work, protective instincts, quiet love. But for many fathers, especially those who've served in uniform or carried other unseen burdens, the greatest gift might be something simple but rare: a moment of real understanding. I was 24 years old when I led an infantry platoon into Iraq. We breached the berm on the Kuwaiti border and pushed into cities where the future of a war — and our own identities — was uncertain. When I came home, I moved into a career on Wall Street, grew my family, and tried to become the man I thought a father should be: strong, silent, dependable. But the weight I carried — the invisible injuries of war, the trauma of a home invasion, the slow unraveling of self — never quite left me. I tried to bury it. And for a while, I did. But what gets buried finds its own way back to the surface. Sometimes in anger. Sometimes in avoidance. Sometimes in moments when your child looks at you, needing you to be fully present — and you realize you're not even in the room emotionally. I tell that story in 'Downriver: Memoir of a Warrior Poet,' not just to make sense of my own past, but to show how trauma doesn't just haunt soldiers. It follows them into fatherhood, into careers, into marriages, and into quiet moments at the dinner table. PTSD isn't always loud. Sometimes it's a subtle distance. A hollow stare. A coldness you can't explain. And it isn't limited to veterans. Over the last 25 years, American families have lived through an almost unrelenting series of shocks: 9/11 and the wars that followed. The financial collapse of 2008. A global pandemic. Social unrest. A mental health crisis that's no longer creeping but roaring into every corner of American life. While much of the public conversation around mental health focuses — rightfully — on teens and younger adults, there's a whole generation of men, many of them fathers, who were taught a different rulebook: don't flinch, don't cry, don't break. For years, I followed that script. I had it all under control. I led men in battle. I briefed corporate executives. I kept moving. But inside, I was unraveling. By the time I sat down across from a counselor in 2011, I didn't know how to say the simplest words: I'm not okay. And yet, saying those words was the beginning of a new life. I'm not here to argue that all dads are silently suffering. Many are thriving, giving love and wisdom and presence to their families. But I know too many men — good men — who carry burdens they never speak of. Some have seen war. Some have battled addiction. Some were shaped by absent fathers of their own, and now quietly wonder if they're failing their kids in invisible ways. Others simply feel lost in a culture that doesn't ask how they're really doing — only whether they're getting the job done. That silence has consequences. When pain goes unspoken, it often leaks out in the wrong places: in strained marriages, in absentee parenting, in emotional distance. But it doesn't have to be that way. Father's Day is a celebration. But it can also be an invitation — to start a conversation, to check in with the men we love, to offer them more than a thank you. Offer presence. Offer curiosity. Offer permission. Ask Dad how he's doing — really. Ask what he remembers about growing up. Ask what parts of himself he's still working on. Ask what he's proud of. Listen, even if it's awkward. Even if he deflects. Because healing doesn't start with fixing something. It starts with seeing it. With making space. When I wrote my book, I wasn't trying to be a perfect example. I was trying to be an honest one. I wanted my children to know that I had struggled — and that I had come through the other side. That there's strength in breaking, and deeper strength in rebuilding. And I wanted other fathers to know: you're not alone. You don't have to carry it all by yourself. Whether you wore a uniform or just wore the weight of the world, your wounds are real. And they are worthy of care. This Father's Day, honor the dads who've shown up. But also hold space for the ones who are trying — sometimes silently — to keep going. There are cracks in all of us. That's not weakness. That's life. As Leonard Cohen wrote, 'There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.' Happy Father's Day — to the men who've held the line for their families, and to those finally learning how to lay their burdens down. Ryan McDermott is an Iraq War veteran, recipient of the Bronze Star medal, and author of the award-winning and critically-acclaimed book, 'Downriver: Memoir of a Warrior Poet.' His views do not reflect those of his employer or any affiliated organization.
Chicago Tribune
a day ago
- Chicago Tribune
Native wisteria vines are a beautiful blue
What's a native vine that can cover a trellis or fence with June flowers the purply-blue color of a country sky just before dawn? Wisteria, that's what. Specifically, it's American wisteria (), which is native to the Southeastern states, including far southern Illinois. 'It's hardy to USDA Zone 5 and 6, which includes Chicago and its suburbs,' said Spencer Campbell, Plant Clinic manager at The Morton Arboretum in Lisle. It climbs a large steel trellis in the Arboretum's Grand Garden. Gardeners may be more familiar with other species that are now considered invasive in the United States, Chinese wisteria () and Japanese wisteria (). These Asian species spread very easily to natural areas, where their vigorous growth smothers native plants. 'We should not plant those vines,' Campbell said. 'But American wisteria is just as lovely, and it's a native plant that provides nectar and pollen to native insects.' American wisteria and the closely related Kentucky wisteria () are woody vines, with a main stem like a tree trunk, and are deciduous, meaning they lose their leaves in winter. They have glossy dark green leaves and produce large, drooping clusters of pealike, lightly fragrant flowers in late May or early June. The flowers of both native species are blue to purple, but white-flowering cultivated varieties have been introduced. Although American wisteria and Kentucky wisteria are less aggressive than the Asian species, they are still vigorous and can eventually grow 25 to 30 feet long if not controlled by pruning. The woody stems and branches will be heavy, so the vines need a very sturdy support. Wisteria climbs by sending out tendrils — slender curling stems — that curl around a support, the way a clematis vine does. 'The tendrils need to find something small enough that they can reach around it, so your trellis or fence should have wires or mesh or bars that are not too wide,' Campbell said. 'Wisteria can't climb a blank wall.' These plants need full sun for best flowering, so plant them in a spot that gets six to eight hours of sunlight a day. They prefer a moist, well-drained, slightly acidic soil, with mulch over their roots. Wisteria will need pruning every year, both to control its size and to encourage flowering. Just after the plant finishes blooming, prune excess growth back to 6 inches. These stems will continue growing and flower buds will form on them. In winter, cut them again so that each stem has two to three flower buds left. Planting American or Kentucky wisteria will be an investment of time and effort. 'You'll have to erect the right kind of support and you'll have to wait a few years before the vines are mature enough to flower,' Campbell said. If you have the patience to wait, you can be surrounded by the green shade of a splendid vine with blooms of wisteria blue.
