A Piece Of Cake

My stepfather, Chris, enjoyed cooking. He genuinely loved it and insisted on making dinner every day. He loved trying new dishes, experimenting with things he'd eaten somewhere at a restaurant, or traveling, and wanted to learn how to make himself. I remember his energy in the kitchen. There was always a creative chaos. Every draw and cupboard door would be open, every knife used, all the chopping boards piled high with ingredients waiting their turn. He never got grumpy and always had a sense of humor, he always had a smile. He'd bring the food to the dining room table and although he'd join us to eat, he'd be off back to the kitchen working on the next course. This is the way it was and I miss his cooking very much. I miss him so much.

My mother's always enjoyed making desserts and ever since I was young I've enjoyed eating them. One of my earliest memories is being at the kitchen table and my mother smiling at me while beating eggs, flour, butter and sugar together. She'd always let me try the mixture and I loved it!

I left home at 19 to live in London. Then I moved abroad living many years in Italy, and now the Czech Republic. I don't come home that often but when I do, I come to see the people I love and food is naturally a big part of that. This is something that is central to all cultures. I believe that making, giving and recieving of food is tied in with love, life and who we are. Don't get me wrong, I eat for fuel and I'm not a big cook, but food is what keeps us alive and those who offer it to us, are at some level giving us life, love, and their energy.

I've always looked forward to dinner parties at my mother's house. I love the food, I love the atmosphere and most of all I love the company. Looking back I think I often took this luxury for granted, in fact I know I did. My heart swells when I think back to our evenings around that table. Those moments seemed so normal to me at the time, but they were anything but. I was truly so fortunate to have been a part of such a group of wonderful people, to have eaten such lovely food, and to have felt such love.

Life changes and as we get older what used to be normality is remembered as magic, the things I once took for granted I now see as a gift, experience that has shaped the way I am today. Since Chris died over a year ago, things are very different. I can't begin to imagine how my mother continues, and yet she does. She has shown me that she is stronger than I ever imagined, smarter than I ever gave her credit for, more caring and compassionate than I could ever be... and she still makes great cakes. But making something so delicious, full of such love, must be so much harder when a huge part of the reason for doing it no longer exists.

Yesterday we had a dinner party with people we love here at my mother's house. She cooked an amazing meal and for dessert she made a hazelnut meringue with chocolate ganache, strawberries and cream. It was delicious and, despite being on a sugar free diet, greedy Nick helped himself to a second slice. It was a beautiful evening and we sat by the fire talking until late. When I asked my mother for the recipe she said she wouldn't give it to me as she hadn't really enjoyed it. She liked the chocolate ganache, but much preferred a simple meringue, strawberries and cream.

At some point during the evening I was acutely aware that now was a moment I'd look back on with all the love and emotion I currently reserve for my past... I think that love needs to be used in the present with the people we care about and have around us. Is that going to be such a difficult thing to do? I have a feeling it's going to be a piece of cake ♥️

I've made meringues using the recipe below and I found them pretty easy and very nice. Maybe making a cake is like life: sometimes you've got to just try is and see how it goes 😊

Meringue recipe: https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/ultimate-meringue