Level: Stagier

Sunday is my favorite love language, when our whole little family is together.

All of us who love to cook know how many emotions can hide in a single bowl, in a pan that sizzles, in dishes we serve like small gifts. It’s our way of saying “I love you” without saying anything at all. But it’s just as heartwarming when that love comes back to us.

Today, mom was the house magician.
She cooked beans the way only moms can… thick, warm, fragrant. With a cabbage salad on the side that completes the whole story. Garlicky, crunchy, perfectly simple, perfectly comforting.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, she took out the pan and made pancakes as effortlessly as breathing. The classic, nostalgic kind, filled with Eurocrem and Plazma biscuits. A little crunchy, a little melty, the kind that takes you straight back to childhood when you were convinced this was the best dessert in the world.

Another Sunday, another ritual, another reminder that food is sometimes the most tender form of love.

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