cinnamon

A couple of years ago I bought the most wonderful book just because the title grabbed me – Sophie’s Bakery for the Brokenhearted. It’s a first novel by Lolly Winston and what a debut it was ! It tells the story of a thirty-something woman who loses her husband to cancer, how she tries to deal with her loss until she finally ends up in a small town, owning her own bakery.

It is written with so much insight and humour. On the one hand it hits you like a fist in the stomach and on the other you end up laughing with the tears streaming down your cheeks. At that time I was still struggling to come to terms with the death of my dad.

I still have the book on my shelves, but I have almost forgotten about it. Until a couple of days ago  . . .

For the past four months following the death of Saffron Man I’ve been cookng and baking like crazy. I think if you looked carefully you would have seen a little fragrant cloud permanently hovering above my kitchen window. Friends who would come to visit for the first time at my home would just follow their noses towards my front door. The other residents in the block would stand sniffing under my balcony, trying to soak up the comforting smells of bredies and baking.

Of course there is the four food pages I have to deliver every second week for the magazine Kuier – a cooking frenzy followed by a photo session. I’ve started to test the recipes for the soap star cookbook that tvplus magazine plan for publication in June. On Sunday mornings I bake bread and muffins on order (my biggest clients are the two old ladies on the third floor who spend their summer months here and the rest of the time at their villa at Lake Cuomo in Lombardia, Italy – next door to George Clooney!)

I’ve done catering for my big boss’s meetings, a Sunday lunch for one of my favourite writers (and friend!) and in deadline weeks I have treat my colleagues on freshly baked bread. It has now become a regular thing. The rest of the time I spent almost every weekend entertaining friends and family. In March I have cooked for 25 of the people closest to my heart to celebrate my Big Birthday. I even cooked in front of the cameras for the TV programme Pasella!

And the rest of the time, when there was really nothing keeping me in the kitchen, I’d hover in front of the stove developing new recipes or veg out om my couch reading my way through stacks and stacks of recipe books!

During all this time I thought I was trying to run away from my true feelings, trying to escape my grieving heart. I thought once I would come to a standstill, I would break down and never stop crying. Friday afternoons at my therapist the tears would run frfeely and I had to fight hard to give in to what I thought would be a complete breakdown

It was only a couple of days ago that I remembered Sophie and her bakery. I suddenly realised that it was exactly what I’ve been doing. I have poured out my grief in every spoonful of cacao and cinnamon I’ve added, in every sprig of thyme and clove of garlic I’ve bashed in my mortar and pestle. And gradually, without realising it, I’ve become whole again.

Of course I know Saffron Man is gone forever. Nothing can ever bring him back to come knocking on my kitchen window on a Sunday morning. He’ll never again share my lumpy old couch with me. And his forceful voice will never again resound through my quiet little flat. I can’t pick up the phone and share some exciting news with him. I miss the chats we had in the car on the way to work in the mornings.

But deep in my heart I carry with me the richest legacy – an intense desire to live life to the fullest and the wisdom he garnered during his 85 years and that he so willingly shared with me. His voice is in my head and I see everything through his eyes – I feel him all around me. Even though common sense tries to throw a spanner in the works and remind my that I would never again be able to buy him Lindt’s chilli chocolate and that his lunchbox lies empty and unused at the bottom of my cupboard.

During this long, selfimposed silence I have discovered so many new and exciting things in the kitchen, recipes that I’d love to share with you. If only I knew where to begin  . . . .. Maybe I’ll start off with the wonderful country style oven pancake that I’ve done for the latest issue of Kuier magazine.

This “pancake” puffs up in the oven to form a shell for crispy vegetables and Cheddar cheese.

This is what you’ll need

1 tablespoon butter

75 g cake flour

125 ml milk

2 eggs, slightly beaten

1 ml salt

2 tablespoons butter

150 g broccoli flowerets

1 medium onion, cut into 2.5 cm pieces

1 medium green pepper, cut into 2.5 cm pieces

1 medium ripe tomato, cut into 2.5 cm pieces

1 ml salt

1 ml freshly ground balck pepper

175 g grated Cheddar cheese

This is how you do it

Preheat the oven to 220°C. In a 23 cm pie dish melt 15 g butter in oven (2 to 3 min.). Meanwhile, in a small bowl stir together flour, milk, eggs and 1 ml salt. Pour into pie dish with melted butter. Bake for 12 to 15 min or until golden brown. While the pancake is baking in the oven, melt 2 tablespoons of butter in a frying pan. Add all the remaining ingredients except the cheese. Fry over meduim heat for about 12 to 15 minutes until the vegetables are crisply tender. Take the pancake from the oven, sprinkle 50 g of the cheese in the bottom, top with the vegetable mixture and sprinkle with thye remaining cheese. Return to the oven and bake for another 5 to 7 min or until the cheese is melted. Heavenly!