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But taken together, the documents in the trove reveal the inner workings of a complex system of government. They show that the group, if only for a finite amount of time, realized its dream: to establish its own state, a theocracy they considered a caliphate, run according to their strict interpretation of Islam.

“It is important that the appearance of the hulled and split product is really good with sharp edges. Customers prefer it that way,” he said.

Shehed was born at home to B Wadha Mansour Ubaid, 20, and Mahmud Muhammad Mousa, a 35-year-old laborer. There was no doctor, nurse or certified midwife at the birth.

Recently, I bought a bag of candy — Haribo sour gummy bears, of course — and brought them to my desk to conduct a quick, informal sensory evaluation. I pulled out one bear of each color: red, clear, yellow, orange and green. They didn’t smell like much, so I skipped straight to taste. Clear, my childhood favorite, was pineapple, tangy and tropical. Yellow was lemon; orange orange. Red was some sort of generic artificial berry. But my first taste of green, my least favorite, which I’d always called lime and often thrown away, caught me off guard. I fished a second green bear out of the bag. Then a third. I put them in my mouth and let the sour coating dissolve away. Then I chewed. As the unmistakable aroma of artificial strawberry flavor flooded my mouth, I couldn’t help bursting into laughter. I’ve been eating gummy bears since elementary school. But I’d never really taken the time to taste them until now.

Just a few days earlier, I had made a pilgrimage to Kikyouya’s factory in Yamanashi, where workers wrapped thousands of pieces of fresh shingen mochi by hand each day, to see exactly what Nestlé was trying to capture. On my way, I stopped for lunch at a small noodle restaurant and sat by the window, eating a pile of salted plums. I could see busloads of tourists filing out in the parking lot, their floppy hats secured with strings, their shirts wet with sweat. They were fruit hunters. Yamanashi is green, dense with red pine and white oak forest and beautifully kept orchards that cut deep into its slopes. Fruit hunters pay to eat as much ripe, seasonal fruit as they like in a short span of time. Say, 30 minutes of thin-skinned peaches, or fat pink grapes, or strawberries, warmed from the sun, dipped into pools of sweetened condensed milk.

In January 1940, in the pages of this very magazine, a writer by the excellent name of Hudson Strode published an article with the headline “Sisu: A Word That Explains Finland.” A Finnish concept that’s tricky to translate into English with any real precision, sisu represents something like a deep well of inner fortitude. The Wikipedia entry includes links to “stiff upper lip,” “cojones” and “chutzpah,” but none of those phrases or words quite capture it. A “special kind of strong will” is the definition Strode goes with, something drawn upon by the stoic in order to persevere in the face of extreme adversity — say, winter, if you live in Lapland.

I was grateful for Annala’s offer. Though it’s no longer especially popular in America, I happen to enjoy black licorice, or at least I used to as a boy, when it came in the shoestring-length “whips” more common back then. (These had the added bonus of really stinging if you managed to snap, say, a younger brother’s arm or cheek just so. What can I say? “Indiana Jones” had just come out. We dug whips.) By Nordic standards, however, my licorice palate lacked sophistication. In the United States, our favorite licorice snack, far and away, remains the crimson middle finger that is the red Twizzler, which is technically not even licorice — those Twizzlers are strawberry-flavored, not licorice-flavored, contain no licorice extract and offer all the masticatory pleasures of an edible candle — and which I’d imagine for licorice purists is akin to stuffing a loaf of Wonder Bread into a poster tube and calling what comes out the other end a baguette.

"Most grain producers who have gotten into the rotation of peas and lentils are finding that their wheat is better," said Jeff VanPevenage, senior vice-president for Columbia Grain, one of the largest grain trading corporations in the Pacific Northwest. "Their weeds are more controllable, their diseases are more controllable and their overall soil environment is better."

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The company is in the process of installing a pasteurization line. The pasteurization equipment looks like something out of the future, with unusual filtering equipment and electrical hookups. The pasteurizer has a quick-dry function that can sterilize without changing the color or flavor. It is also used with chia, a crop that is imported from Peru and other sources, and can be used for for herbs.

The ticket book was recovered in early 2017 north of Mosul in the town of Tel Kaif, in a house that ISIS had turned into a police station.

At Unpackt, co-founders Florence Tay and Jeff Lam aim to change all of that. Nestled along a row of shops in the quiet Sembawang Hills estate, this two month-old shop is Singapore’s first zero-waste supermarket. What this means is an elimination of waste — namely packaging — along the entire supply chain, from supplier to consumer. On Tay and Lam’s side, they request for suppliers to reuse packaging from their previous bulk purchases. Customers at Unpackt on the other hand, are required to bring their own containers when shopping at Unpackt. For those who’ve forgotten to bring their own containers, fret not, shelves of donated containers are available for use, with new donations always welcome.