Gusts of the coldest winter wind this week exhumed, much
unsurprisingly, a pile of nothingness, rainy days, insomnia and Star Wars bottled water and swept it and pushed it and dragged it right onto the doorstep,
and even though it should be declared illegal in such cases to even think of
leaving the bed unattended and opening the front door, you find yourself ungracefully
climbing over them and making your way through the most unpleasant drizzle of rain
and icy wet fog and nostalgia and don’t even bother with a brolly.
Truth to be known, the cold and darkness are here to stay at
least for a while, and the memories they blew about, of one excited
little kid that glimpses a foil-covered oven dish in their daddy’s hands in the
warmth of their kitchen when he gets home, and there’s loads of your auntie’s
famously delicious bread pudding in it - it would be nice if they did, but they
won’t make the rain go away, nor the gloomy winter end any sooner, nor your
eyes less inappropriately teary on your bus home in the evening; however, what
may help is baking your own macafame,
translated and tweaked and localised from your nonna’s original recipe (est.
ca. 1946) (nonna > Mary Berry): between one mouthful and the other, you can
try and get your head around the fact that this light and soft cake packed full
of sultanas and pine nuts and so moist and delicious kind of brings you right
back to when you’d stand in the rain just for a laugh and you wouldn’t hide
away from the wind and you’d let it lift you up and drag you around and you’d
think it’s the most amusing thing in the world.
