Sometimes one had to cook for fourteen people with very good appetites, and since we had no kind of domestic service, we all helped to clean and cook, in turns. That day it was my brother’s and my turn, my mother was always the one who directed the activities of the house.
Andre was in the main hall, setting the table. I heard him knocking the cutlery.
“How is that broth?” Mom asked me, and came closer to see.
“It is already breaking the first boil, we can add the meat.”
“Mika...”
“I’m doing it, I’m doing it.”
My brother came to the industrial stove with a large tray loaded with fresh pieces of veal, and went adding them little by little to the pot. I moved aside, to take the bottle from Sasha and make her burp. It was very hot in there. The salty and vegetal smell of the broth, the
