At the thought of really getting hands-on with food, Saskia swallowed. She knew it was the healthiest way to eat, but there would be no ignoring the ingredients. There would be no ignoring the calories. It was why she’d seldom cooked before. That and not having the time.
But if she was going to heal from her eating disorder, she had to learn. She had to get used to it. And so she swallowed hard, again, and nodded. “That sounds good,” she croaked.
“You sure? I don’t want to trigger you. You don’t have to do it with me.”
“No, it’s got to be done,” Saskia said firmly, despite the slight tremble in her voice. “I want to. And I will.”
Kivi took over the cooking for that evening, but she gave a running commentary of everything she was doing, as if she were hosting her own cookery show. Eventually, Saskia picked up her phone camera and started filming, mostly because she was cracking up with laughter. Kivi kept glancing up at her with a limpid gaze and enunciating her words overly sensually, like a certain well-known British television presenter, and Saskia responded with her own commentary.
“And here we have Kiera Chadwick, ladies and gentleman, giving us a culinary masterclass on how to cook salmon linguine. Behold the deftness of her wrist as she chops leeks with the sharpest of knives, and flakes perfectly-cooked salmon into a luscious cream sauce…”
“And then I add the chives,” Kivi picked it up, “dreamily swirling them into the waiting pool of white, until every molecule of it becomes studded with pink and green…”
“Like Elphaba and Glinda,” Saskia said. It was the first thing that came to mind, and she didn’t want to break the flow. “InWicked.Pink and green. Just… in a… pool.”
“A pool?” Kivi snorted, breaking character. “What pool have you ever seen that’swhite?”
“I don’t know,” Saskia said, losing herself to laughter once again. “A pool of… coconut milk?”
“Or… well, shall we say… ejaculate?” Kivi shrugged, and Saskia had to put down her phone, she was laughing so hard. Kivi couldn’t keep a straight face for very long, and soon the two of them were clutching each other to stay upright, barely able to breathe between the fits of hysterical laughter seizing at their bodies.
“You said… I can’t believe you said…” Saskia managed, before losing herself to further peals of mirth.
“I know,” Kivi spluttered. “It was just… the first white liquid that came to mind…”
“Came to mind,”wheezed Saskia, and although it took Kivi a second to realise what she’d said, she actually sank to the floor with the next gale of laughter, her legs apparently having given out. Saskia wasn’t far behind her, the two of them collapsing into a puddle of hilarity that lasted far longer than it probably should have done for two women in their thirties.
“We’re such children,” Kivi said once she could breathe again.
Saskia wiped her eyes. “Oh, absolutely. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that much. If ever.”
“Glad to be of service,” Kivi said with a smirk. “Now, get off my leg so I can finish making this dinner.”
Saskia nearly choked a couple of times on the rich, creamy concoction, but for once it wasn’t due to thinking about thecontents or the calories. Every time she made eye contact with Kivi, she just thought about what she’d said, and the dinner seemed to stick in her throat as her body tried to break into laughter again. But it made a change from the usual negative thoughts that swirled around her mind at mealtimes.
Unfortunately, they returned with a vengeance the following afternoon, when it came to the actualdoingof the cooking. They relocated to the guest house kitchen, because it was bigger and had more equipment. Kivi presented her with a red apron, which she had bought specifically for her after seeing it in a shop while out for brunch with Eva. She had a matching orange one. “All we need is a pink one for Eva, and we’ll pretty much make up the lesbian flag.” She laughed at her own joke.
Saskia didn’t have the heart to tell her that red and orange were two of the colours that made people the most anxious, due to their association with emergencies. She’d read studies on it for an article a few years ago. But what Kivi said about red, orange and pink tickled at her memory… what was it… oh yes, the colours of the school gates yesterday. They had been red, orange and pink.Victoria’s subtle way of coming out, perhaps?She smirked at the idea, and at the more positive thought, the tension in her body eased.
“Let’s get cracking,” Kivi said, withdrawing her head from the fridge and brandishing two paper bags of vegetables. “Carrots, celery and onions. A mix known assofrito,if you want to be Italian, and the basis of most tomatoey or meaty sauces.”
Under Kivi’s guidance, and with the help of a fancy blender with a special chopping function, Saskia had the vegetables finely diced in less than ten minutes. Kivi heated up some oil in a pan and then fried off all the vegetables, combining them with mushrooms and a couple of courgettes (which Saskia managed to grate without slicing off her own nails). A mixture of beef andpork mince followed – “Beef has the most flavour but pork is better for the environment, so I use both.” Then it was a matter of pouring in what felt like gallons of chopped tomatoes, beef stock, and herbs. Then, Saskia stared as Kivi produced a hunk of cheese from the fridge.
“Cheese?” she managed, dread creeping into her stomach.
“Cheese,” Kivi confirmed, meeting Saskia’s gaze steadily. “Parmesan, if you want to be exact.”
“That’s… unusual,” Saskia said, her mouth going dry. “People normally put cheeseonBolognese, notin,don’t they?”
“I’m not putting the actual cheese in,” Kivi said. “Watch.” And, manoeuvring her knife as skilfully as she had done with the leeks yesterday, she cut the rind off and into inch-wide chunks, which she then proceeded to drop into the bubbling pot. A quick stir, in with some frozen spinach, the lid was on and the heat dropped down.
“Is that it?” Saskia said.
“Yep,” Kivi replied, heading to the sink to wash her hands. “A long, slow cook is the key. That’s enough to feed… I don’t know, twelve to sixteen people? More if some of them are kids. I’ve cut costs by bulking out on vegetables rather than meat, and I’ll use wholewheat pasta for extra fibre.”
“Wow,” Saskia said. “Aside from the cheese, that actually sounds okay.”
“It sounds okay evenwiththe cheese,” Kivi said firmly. “Because itisokay. It’s okay to eat food, Saskia, and consume calories. I think that’s something you need to hear.”
