I was making risotto on Wednesday night. There I was stirring away and finding it quite therapeutic.
Then my mind took me to back to when I made a big huge risotto for 12 of us in Mme Cholet's kitchen in Bordeaux, she left me to my own devices nipping back in to fill up my glass. I repaid her by putting her jars of herbs and spices upside down and in the wrong place. She never said anything, she just laughed, put them back and then slammed the drawer shut with her bum.
Needless to say I had a hayfever moment. I've been having a few of those.
People still ask after her and ask me how I am and my eyes bubble over. I think of something I want to tell her and I can't.
Oh, I miss her. I want to pick up the phone and tell her I miss her, like I used to but she's not there.
I don't think I will make risotto for a while.
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