Dad's been in to see mum in hospital. He didn't recognise her. What more is there to say?
Cooking at Bronwydd Avenue on Saturday night (Icons passim) worked as therapy for me and John last weekend; good for us, and for breathing a little life back into a house that had been empty for a week.
We'll do the same this weekend with Anthony Bourdain's Boeuf Bourguignon. Still from the book Ma got me for my birthday thirteen years ago, and also I noticed inscribed. Once again there is a legit copy of the recipe online here in the Washington Post for my brother to peruse. (Amazon and Knorr will have to take the strain with the demi glace however. "Had we but world enough and time.")