My baby’s first proper cold, flabbergasting at that. My Man Flu and the need for comfort. Takes me back years to a recipe of embodying a hug on a plate
This widely misleading concept is thrown at a woman when she is at her most vulnerable in life. It’s most probably a lie. A well-meaning, flawed and unintentional one at that. But just that.
Don’t fall for it is all I can say.
Pasta is perhaps the Momma of Comfort food. Something about a good pasta is like being hugged by an Italian Grandma with a Good Mushroom Sauce bubbling in a pot somewhere close. How I learned to make filled pasta at Jamie Oliver’s Cookery School.
A tough spot pushed us to improvise and a refrigerator with fruit was a worthy accomplice. Repeat after me. WE LOVE ICE ♥️
When my Eid is reduced to a Pot of Gold(ish Yakhni Pulaao) instead of skidding on blood and guts.