i don't care how mad this makes me sound, but my grand-father is really here. and not just anywhere, but in the kitchen (which is where i have set up his photograph and a candle, because it's the place where i'd like best to talk to him). well, apart from talking and laughing, which he does a lot, he has also been busy: the bottle of failed kvas i was about to pour into the sink, turned, miraculously, within the span of half an hour (while i was out of the kitchen and he clearly was in it) into the best kvas we've had so far (recipe coming up soon). a few hours later, my dreamy licking of a ricotta-covered spoon (making risotto, you know how it is...) led me to fantasies of a ricotta cheesecake and within the hour, i had a recipe for it, delivered straight into my hands by an unknown girl at the supermarket. oh, and did i mention the amazing fresh-salted gherkins (recipe coming up soon too), how well those turned out?and this for a man who for years, and for complicated reasons (mostly ideological ;) only ate sardines, oranges and kefir (yes, i know, i know...).
anyway, we are having a food/wake thing for him tomorrow evening. in Isabelle's words: 'now your grand-father has finally come to live with us after all!'
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