A gifted kitchen assistant
Standing on a chair next to the stove, Vicente follows the preparation of the dumplings with an almost religious dedication. He's wearing the bow tie he got from his father two weeks ago, on his 8th birthday. He hasn't taken it off since.
- Vicente, you've watched me prepare these dumplings so many times that if I let you, you'd know how to make them yourself, wouldn't you?
The boy, who already knew the preparation process by heart, repeats the old family recipe to his mother:
- grate 2 medium-sized raw potatoes under running water so that they don't darken, put the grated potato in a cloth and squeeze it well over a cup to remove the excess water. Leave this water to stand for a while until a thicker phase begins to separate at the bottom of the cup, this is the potato starch. Discard the clear part of the liquid and add the starch to the grated potato;
- add half a grated raw onion, 1 lightly beaten egg, grated nutmeg, salt and pepper to taste.
- Using a spoon, pour this mixture into a frying pan with hot oil until the flat dumplings turn a brownish color.
- Serve the dumplings sprinkled with chopped parsley.
She looks at Vicente briefly, with a smile on her lips, as she continues to drop the potato mixture by spoonfuls into the frying oil and scoop up the fried dumplings onto the paper towel-covered plate. She loves having company while she prepares lunch, and considers these moments when the two of them are together in the kitchen to be precious. They should cook together more often. Maybe she could even make it a routine and stop ordering meals from ifood - after all, it's expensive and not very healthy.
- No, Mom, it's not good yet. The Maillard reaction between amino acids and sugars needs to be allowed to take place so that the dumplings turn a brownish color. For this to happen, the temperature of the oil must be above 170 degrees Celsius.
Interrupted in her reverie by her son's professorial tone, she realizes that he is once again criticizing the things she does. How can he, at the age of eight, claim to know more than she, who is already approaching 40?
- Why don't you go downstairs and play with the other kids? The kitchen is a dangerous place! Can you imagine if this frying pan full of boiling oil overturns? We'd both end up in hospital.
- It's just that last week, the dumplings were a bit raw. I have to stay here to help you fry them to the right consistency.
Anna tries to calm the wave of anguish that is digging its nails into her chest. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and struggles to concentrate on her breathing. Before long, she feels transported to the bottom of the sea, 20m deep. When she realizes that her breathing is accelerating, she thinks, “I need to save on compressed air,” and forces herself to breathe rhythmically. Soon she hears the rhythmic flow of air bubbles coming out of the valve attached to her mouth and her pulse returns to normal.
- Mommy
She opens her eyes and turns to Vicente.
- What is it, my dear?
- It's burning.
-Damn it - she screams, throwing the last batch of dumplings in the garbage can and abandoning the frying pan full of oil in the sink.
The door to his mother's room has been closed for a few hours, ever since the dumplings were burnt, and not a sound has come from inside. But now it's almost five o'clock in the afternoon and Vicente's stomach is rumbling. All he's eaten all day is cookies and yogurt. He decides to check if his mother is all right. Through the ajar door, he sees her lying on her side in bed, inert, her eyes reflecting the glow of the setting sun coming through the window.
- Mommy
As she doesn't respond to his son's call, he lies down on the bed in front of her and gently pulls one of her arms over his body. Slowly, the warmth radiating from his body seems to bring her back to life. She then clasps her son in her arms and begins to speak in an almost inaudible tone:
- Did you know that it was my grandmother who looked after me most of the time during my childhood? I only came home to sleep. The rest of the time I was at her house or at school. She used to call me “kartofflepuffer”, because I liked to eat potato dumplings so much. I also learned to knit with her, and while she made sweaters for me and my mother, I made outfits for my Suzi dolls. We were great companions!
When I got pregnant, I imagined that from then on I would always have the company of someone who resembled me. But a bookworm was born. Why are you like that? You're always talking about weird things that most people aren't interested in? Why can't you be like any other normal child?
-Sorry, Mommy
Seeing that his mother doesn't intend to get up any time soon, he decides to go hunting for a new packet of cookies. There must be one more somewhere in the house. But on seeing him move, his mother begs him in a whimper:
- Vicente, can you tell me a story to distract me? But choose one that's not about the extinction of the dinosaurs or the Big Bang, okay, my dear?
Translated with DeepL.com (free version)
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