The bone felt like a little girl's shoulder blade, as if she'd reached out to hug me as I passed by.🙏🏻💐
Aymée was my Mum’s aunt, she was her surrogate mother as her Mum was busy. So she raised two generations. She was born one year after Paule, in 1897. For a kid like me born after May 1968 and the woke takeover of the France, I was blessed to have her insight.
All of my father’s ancestors and relatives are buried in Bosnia.
Mary!🤗💐
Doing that work put me in contact with Aymée’s great sister: Paule who passed on July 25th 1909, aged 13. This was due to an epidemic in running water. The epidemic caused the government to chlorinate the water.
I was digging Aymée’s family grave to plant flowers and found her coffin metal plate: the first time I went to this cemetery (Dad who used to do it had passed 2-3 weeks before) and I was the one who got this message.🙏🏻
The following year I found a bone which, unlike the plate which I kept, I buried back.
Mary!🤗💐
I am cooking a blanquette with turkey meat today!
In the words of Anthony Bourdain: There are certain rules in the world of cooking. One of them is that color contrast is a good thing. A plate with too much white, for instance, cries out for some garnish, some color, something, anything, to distract the eye from all that monochrome. But not this dish. This dish is the exception to the rule. For a chef, it can be maddening to make it for the first time, as the natural impulse, the sum total of all one's training, says "Put some carrot in there – a little chopped parsley, for God's sake!" Resist the urge. It's supposed to be white. All white. Keep it that way. It makes something of a statement.
Mary!🤗💐
Which makes you my model sister.🙏🏻❤️
I am in Chur today. Superb weather.