Yesterday I was missed the Kitchen...
Christmas and people are expectant....the tyranny of the overfed. My place is at the stove, safe, warm, absorbed, disengaged....hiding?
I'm walking in the crowded streets, I hear them, smell them in their subterranean world...I'm not going back fifteen weeks I'm doing good I have a life now don't I?
This morning....I got round to it...1 coffee mug of wholewheat flour, 2 of white,½ each of rye and oats,2 teaspoons of salt and a sachet of dried yeast...add water to make a dough.
I spotted the ingredients for a lemon almond and polenta cake in the back of the cupboard....the one that Elizabetta used to make.
She was the one I can admit it now.....while the bread bakes
Beauty beckoned me
I descended the stairs
Wine, onions, chicken bones
My initiation?
Or my return?
Drunken fool it's a job
Take the money and smile
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