Rhubarb Crumble Cake

We were out this morning when our Amazon packet arrived. An office in the building accepted the parcel for us. When we saw the DHL notice Layla and I did an ‘Amazon dance’ - she because she knew she was getting some more ‘Harry and the Dinosaurs‘ books and me because I was getting ‘Relish‘ Prue Leith’s autobiography. Leith is the founder of Leith’s (imagine that) and a serious over achiever in life.

We skipped over to the office and handed over the DHL notice.  The girl handing over the box launched into a rant.  I could tell it was a rant because her cheeks flushed.  I asked her to slow down and repeat what she had said.“You should know.  This is the last time we are going to be accepting any packages on your or anyone else’s behalf.  Otherwise all we do is answer doors to give people their packages.”  She must have seen my perplexed expression because then she said “I realize that this is the first time we have accepted a package for you but nevertheless that is our decision.”

I shrugged my shoulders, smiled and said thank you.  But to you I say there goes another sufferer of the resentful martyr syndrome  and ”Don’t you need to know someone before you chew them out? Or at least - Hell I don’t know - be aware of their first name?’  I feel like I should walk around the city, depositing fortune cookies with nuggets of self-help ensconced inside.  She would get; “Doing the right thing has no value if done begrudgingly” or “Life is too short to be this anal and you are too young to be this bitter.” or “Smoke some of this green stuff, it will take the edge off”. Read more of this post

Rebecca makes Ravioli

Last week we had a new student join our German class at Pro-Log, Berlin.  We all had to re-introduce ourselves for her benefit, we did the rounds and when it was her turn, she said:

“Ich heisse Rebecca, ich bin italienish und ich bin kochin.” (My name is Rebecca, I am Italian and a chef).

My ears pricked right up at that one and when we had our 15 minute break I perched on the seat next to her and started chatting away.  We arranged to visit Wittenbergplatz Market (last week) and Winterfeldtplatz Market (this week) after which she invited me over to show me how to make ravioli.

The minute we entered her cheerful pink kitchen, her pace changed, she began to move with purpose - setting her ingredients down with swift precision.
“Wow, she must be a pro.” I thought. “So how many times have you made ravioli?” I tentatively asked.
“Ravioli? Well, probably 3 times…”
“Hey that is as many times as me!” I thought.
“…a week.” she finished.

Read more of this post

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