Soft and Easy to Swallow....and the Heat of a Chilli

It's such a relief to not be in so much pain. To not feel so wretched. 

My mouth, my jaw, my face still hurt and hurt..... but my emotional skin is firmer.... I can contain the pain better...I won't dissolve into raw despair if you prod me or even just speak to me.

I haven't been able to believe it yet, but maybe they are right - all those people who say time heals all. At least I know that my flesh body can heal.... maybe my grieving body will too....in time.

Still can't eat anything hard or crisp or crunchy or chewy though.

So on Saturday this wonderful meal at River Cottage Canteen that I was treated to by Robin's aunty - celebrating the visit of his cousin and his Armenian family - was a bonus.  To start with I shared this mezze platter of roast carrots and feta cheese, raw cauliflower and pumpkin seed couscous, hummus with harissa and dukkha , cooling cucumber raitha and fragrant beetroot felafel. All soft enough for my sore mouth to cope with

Followed by a slab of cheesy, chilli polenta and ratatouille  - also very soft and easy to swallow.

We declined dessert and walked home to cut into this chocolate cake I'd baked - my standard Nigella Olive Oil and Almond cake- but with a feathered icing topping. And sprinkled with some sugar butterflies for a special little girl who especially loved Robin...who recently celebrated her sixth birthday.

Tonight I stay with my soft and  easy to swallow theme and make a plate of penne pasta, broccoli spears, the gift of a courgette from my neighbour's allotment, and an emerald green salsa verde with a bunch of flat leaf parsley from the market. 

And I add a couple of  small red chillies from a plant given to Robin a few days before he died.  I've kept them in the freezer and they take me back to that time  in October.... remind me of the awfulness of it....but also to the memory of how that chilli plant on the window sill brought splashes of brightness to the dullness of his room. Even though he didn't know what it was or could eat a chilli.

 And it reminds me of the thoughtfulness of the dear friend who gave it to him. Because I know he could feel her love long after he'd forgotten how much he loved the heat of a chilli.