How to Bake a New Beginning: A feel-good heart-warming romance about family, love and food!. Lucy Knott
her stomach could handle the mountain of pandoro in front of her, after eating so much pizza and drinking a fair bit of wine, in addition to jet lag that had now kicked in, but it smelt so buttery and delicious and Nanna was staring at her expectantly. Not eating it was not an option – it was never an option. Plus, she was only in town for a week. She had to eat all her favourites while she could get them, and it was Grandpa’s ninety-sixth birthday after all.
With these thoughts sloshing round her brain, she laughed to herself and took a huge bite. No sooner had the vanilla flavour hit her taste buds than her slice had gone. So much for not having any room left.
‘Grazie, Nanna,’ she whispered, with a chuckle.
Grandpa’s Pancakes
Ingredients:
Flour
Sugar
Egg
Milk
Butter
Nutella
What to do:
Mix around 4 tablespoons of flour with 2 teaspoons of sugar, an egg and a cup of milk, until smooth.
Heat up a saucepan and add a dab of butter.
Pour in a ladle full of pancake batter and swirl round like Grandpa does.
You will know when one side is done because small bubbles will form. Flip it over and cook the other side.
Smother in Nutella.
The birds were chirping in the garden. The whistles of the wintry winds could be heard through the glass. There was a peacefulness to a Sunday morning that Amanda couldn’t get enough of. It was her one full day away from work and that meant she was up at the crack of dawn ready for a day of spending time with family, catching up on reading, cleaning and actually getting to experiment in her own kitchen. Though she had taken yesterday off too – for the first time in a very long time – Sundays always felt special and she liked to make the most of them.
‘Rise and shine, sleeping beauties,’ Amanda said walking into her guest bedroom and opening the silk pink curtains wide, to let the morning sunshine boldly fill up the room.
‘Oh gosh, what time is it?’ Louisa whined, pulling her pillow over her face. She was lying next to Sabrina in the double bed.
Sabrina threw her arms up to shield against the imposing light. ‘Jet lag is a thing, Amanda – look it up. I need rest,’ she said, her eyes still firmly shut.
‘There’s no time for rest. You’re only here for a week. I told Grandpa we would pop over for leftover cake before we hit the shops. And I don’t get much time away from the kitchen, which means we won’t get much time this week to do said shopping, so, we are going to make the most of today,’ Amanda told them, cracking open a window to wake them up with fresh air, which received further moans.
‘Chop, chop. You too, Lou. With our work schedules we rarely see each other and you live fifteen minutes away from me – and that’s a bit pathetic,’ she added, with an edge to her voice that made Louisa sit up straight. Amanda wasn’t exactly blaming Louisa, she was mad at herself too. The schedule of a chef wasn’t for the faint-hearted.
Amanda busied herself with her routine Sunday morning cleaning while waiting for her sisters to get ready. She was halfway through dusting the window ledges when they appeared before her, surprisingly fully dressed and ready for the day. Amanda was the early bird out of the three of them. She did enjoy a lie-in every couple of months, but just like her grandpa, she always had something to bake. Cooking in the morning while still in her pyjamas had become a little piece of bliss for her.
Sundays were usually Sabrina’s only day off in LA. Amanda was aware of this fact, and knew Sabrina liked to sleep in, but she would have plenty of time for that on her vacation in the coming weekdays when everyone else was working. As for Louisa, an extra hour and grumpy would be kept at bay, but once they were at Nanna and Grandpa’s, Amanda knew her baby sister would be anything but grumpy. Nonni were special like that. Amanda just had to get her up and moving.
The clock had just moved past eight-thirty as Amanda, casually glam and put together in her black pinstriped trousers and oversized rose embroidered grey jumper; Sabrina in her usual floaty dress and tights ensemble, minimal make-up yet as gorgeous as ever; and Louisa with her sleek black blazer, skinny blue jeans and white Converse pumps, stepped out into the crisp December air, giant teddy bear coats covering their individual fashion tastes.
Growing up, the three of them were chained together at the hip and that’s how they thought it would forever be, but dreams and jobs had led them in different directions. Amanda and Louisa hadn’t been too fond of Sabrina leaving them and jetting off to LA. They had disapproved at first and it had taken a lot of convincing on Sabrina’s part that it wouldn’t be for too long and that she still honoured their pact – this pact being that by the time they all reached thirty they would have houses on the same street, a five-minute walk from their mum and dad.
Slowly the girls began to understand Sabrina’s dream and had come around to being supportive. Amanda of all people knew the importance of travelling, having spent so much time away herself. It was always temporary though, and her heart always led her back home.
The girls made time to visit each other as often as work would allow. This week it was Amanda’s turn to play host and she couldn’t have been more thrilled. The strain of jobs, and the fact it had been a year since Sabrina’s last visit, had been causing an unwelcome tension over the past few months. Amanda didn’t care for being snappy, but at times she was aware that she could be. It wasn’t a trait she wanted to exude. She hoped today she and her sisters could get some much-needed girl time for the sake of their sanity.
Amanda, the oldest of the girls, was baking and cooking up a storm by the age of eight. Though all the girls enjoyed cooking with their nonni, Amanda had taken to it like a duck to water, and it was very rare to see her out of her ‘I can’t keep calm, I’m Italian’ apron. The days spent in the kitchen studying their nanna and grandpa were priceless and her passion never faltered when she left their house.
At twenty-seven, Amanda was now a fully certified chef. She had qualifications, certificates and diplomas in professional patisserie, culinary arts – you name it. She had travelled the world taking numerous courses and immersing herself in different cultures and their cuisines. That was until three years ago. After a month exploring San Francisco, she had come back feeling inspired and full of vigour and decided to put her travel plans on hold. She wanted to focus on learning all there was to know about running a restaurant. She found herself a cosy spot in Manchester Piccadilly, at the popular Rusk, where she served British food with an elegant twist.
Amanda had been there two and a half years now and besides having to deal with a rather sleazy sous chef, she was happy, or more accurately, she was comfortable. It suited her. After her years spent travelling, she liked being close to her mum and dad, Louisa and home comforts.
When it was Amanda’s turn to have the girls over, they knew they were in for a few tasty treats. All Sabrina ever wanted when she came home from LA was Grandpa’s pizza. She requested it every night, and as for Louisa, she could never say no to pizza. After a brief stint away in London for university, her baby sister appreciated Amanda’s home cooking that much more.
Amanda had doubled over laughing when Louisa had expressed sheer horror at the foods she saw her fellow students eat. It seemed their nonni and Amanda had created a little bit of a food snob in Louisa – no microwave meals or Pot Noodles for her.
***
Grandpa was waiting in the garden perched on an old brown garden bench, in his heavy black padded coat, when the girls pulled up.
‘Grandpa,’ Louisa