Saturday 15 June 2013

In The Tunnels of Time - Risotto.

My daughter is reading to me.

She’s excited and she’s talking really quickly.

She’s talking in French; she was born in France and it flows out of her unhindered and effortlessly.

I am listening.

But I am cooking.

I am trying to make an asparagus risotto; with one hand and an elbow I am trying to stir rice so it doesn’t stick, with the other hand I am using the blender and my eyes are divided between the asparagus tips that I must prevent from boiling too long in the saucepan of steaming water and the clock behind me that tells me when this is so. My feet are occupied with the cat who apparently needs attention.

The recipe is Italian.

I am English.

My daughter is reading to me in French.

She is reading fast, words are raining down on me and my asparagus.

She is reading from the advanced studies edition of ‘Philosophy for those about to do their exams”.

I hear occasional things I recognise as language; Hobbes, Marx, State, Negation, Power, Individualism.

The rest is just risotto.

Then she stops.

I look up.

I realise she has asked me a question.


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