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    Food we shared

    I think love is like marmalade. Sweet, sticky and memorable, if good.

     

    It could even be like sticky date pudding really …. or a warm cookie just out the oven.

     

    At times your love is so amazing it reminds me of the first time I tasted home made sorbet, made by ME.

     

    Remember that time you did that thing and winked after bringing your finger to your lips… secrets… remember? I fell in love with you then, again. I felt so giddy, kinda like how a child feels eating watermelon in summer while sitting out back with friends spitting seeds. That’s how I felt, childlike, happy and turned on, so … not childlike?

     

    I’ve told you this plenty but I’ll say it again because it makes me feel good to say … think … I love you.

     

    I might even love you more than carrot cake.

     

    Remember that time you made me carrot cake for my birthday? It was special. I was missing my family and our birthday rituals but then you walked up to me and said ‘I’m going to make you a birthday cake’

     

    and I was like ‘really? by yourself?’

     

    and you were like ‘yes, with these’ you held out your hands then walked away to do some magic in the kitchen.

     

    From the study I could hear your little humans whispering ‘Is this a surrrrrprise?’

     

    Fast forward some time and the cake was done, you cleaned and the little humans exhausted themselves doing little human stuff, running in circles, kicking empty boxes and yelling ‘No, booty butt or he did it’.

     

    Eventually you asked them to get me without saying a word.

     

    Little human number two grabbed my hand aggressively and said ‘hurry your surprise cake is outside’

     

    Outside I found you and little human number one standing out in the snow carrot cake in hand with sparklers sticking out of it.

     

    I was used to summer birthdays, I’m not a fan of cold weather and to be honest I’m still unsure about why you decided to take the cake outside. I was too happy to ask at the time and it sorta slipped my mind afterwards. Were you concerned about a fire breaking out?

     

    Anyway, outside we were and yes, in that moment I was freezing but oh so happy. No ones ever made me carrot cake and insisted I blow out my birthday sparklers in the snow.

     

    I was happy, you were pleased with yourself and the little humans were jumping up and down, I suppose they were excited too.

     

    The carrot cake turned out to be the saltiest one I’d ever had but it was great because you made it and you loved me. Plus, sometimes love is salty. Remember those pancakes you made me? Salty.

     

    I think to cook for someone is an act of love, to cook with someone is to make love. My favourite meal was that one with the grilled chicken, mangos and you were wearing …. Were you wearing??

    Another magical cooking experience.

    On that evening you made me realise something.

     

    Dishes and cutlery are a waste of time and space.

     

    Hands.

     

    Fingers.

     

    Sucking.

     

    Licking.

     

    Now that’s what food is about isn’t it?

     

    I want to cook with you.

     

    I want to eat with you.

     

    I want to eat you?

    Comments

    1. My God !
      You said it all, love is like
      food, we can not live without it.
      Sometimes it’s sweet other salty vezesé other,
      important is to give and receive the same extent.
      There is a line that says: Love is food, sex is the spice.
      Now I felt a desire to eat chocolate cake!
      The entire constellation.

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