A mighty muffaletta and fragrant preserved lemons from my papou’s tree. A passionfruit soufflé with custard poured from my teta’s jug and brownies resulting in an entirely smashed phone as I reached for an ancient recipe online. Cinnamon rolls which almost set my home alight (dodgy oven, not a dodgy chef) and Old El Paso to pacify nostalgia. A cursed pineapple, baby’s first octopus (I’m the baby), ribs pressure cooked into a mess and plated with a powerful apathy. Soft and oily smelly eggplant served on a gaudy, iridescent glass fish, mystery-citrus madeleines and the bunged up delight that is an unfathomably good Basque cheesecake.
