When I woke up the next morning, she had already gone…
She was sitting in the corner, deep in her magazine, one of those glossy ones, with the cool clothes. She looked up just as I was passing by, smiled briefly and went back to her reading.
Back in the kitchen, we were deep in checks that would keep us busy for the next hour and when things were calmer I grabbed my knives, cleaned up, changed and made my way to the front door. I liked going through the main dining room on the way out, and not the back entrance, just to see what was going on, if everything was more or less OK and if there was anyone I knew to sit and have a coffee with. Today, no one, and I was in no mood to sit and chat, just too wiped out.
She was still there, and she stood up as I walked by. “Are you going to leave without talking to me?” read more to find out what I answered
after trying it, she didn’t know what to say: such an unexpected treat and so many flavours it seemed she would never be able to recreate the memory of that sunny afternoon in Siberia…
she asked, most respectfully “please, do you think I could possibly have the recipe? I’ve never even heard of halloumi before.
I promise I won’t share your secret”
“There are no secrets”, I whispered.
“There’s no recipe for this, I told her. You just need some halloumi cheese, a frying pan and a spoon!”
a combination of big juicy dates (Medjool if you want to know) Continue Reading
we were talking and talking: this time about macarons, she found them so much fun and exciting
or was it macaroons? she put everyone around here in their place about the way to pronounce it, there was only ONE way to say the word and everyone was going to have to say it HER way: macarons
she told me she’d just come back from Paris and how everyone
was eating macarons in pretty colours and daring flavours from those fancy boutiques that are all over the world these days.
Even airports – I mentioned (I’d never really seen the attraction until a few years ago)
she wasn’t paying attention, and told me her favourite was the salted caramel and banana curd inside the luscious, soft chocolate, almond shell
I always like how the Americans say “karmel” – I told her – but I often find thee things to be rather sweet. A good filling can give you that balance – I tried to tell her
She shot me a glance which hinted that I simply couldn’t understand these things and I should stick to eating chocolate… read more to see what I did instead…
She called round early the next morning, carefully placing the box on the table:
“I made you something for the New Year holidays – I know you’re far from friends and family at this time. I thought this might be a nice surprise”
“what… IS… that?
“ well, it’s not exactly a carrot pie, and it’s not exactly a carrot cake… I suppose you could call it a carrot cake pie “
“a carrot cake… PIE?
“YES!!… Do you like it? continue reading and see how I liked it