How to Bake a New Beginning. Lucy Knott

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       Chapter 2

      Grandpa’s Pizza

       Ingredients (I’m sure this makes a lot of mini pizzas; need to check on pizza for one?):

      10oz yeast

      1lb flour

      Olive oil

      1oz butter

      Mug of water

      Cheese and sauce

       What to do:

      Once yeast dough is formed (thank you, Grandpa), roll it out to fit the trays/baking sheets.

      Place trays in clear bags (not Tesco bags like Grandpa did once; they will melt) and leave in warm oven until risen.

      Once the base has risen, take the trays out of the bags.

      Turn the oven on and when ready, cook one side of the base until golden brown.

      Flip over and add sauce and cheese like Grandpa does.

      Place back in the oven and allow cheese to melt and edges to turn golden.

      With a tear in his eye Grandpa reached out and touched Amanda’s arm. He pulled her towards him and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

      ‘Thank you,’ he said with so much sincerity that Amanda couldn’t stop her eyes from welling up too. She paused for a moment to take in his features. His bright blue eyes glistened, the wrinkles on his round face crinkled up and a small smile developed at the corners of his mouth as he looked at her. If hearts could leap from one’s chest, smile and do happy dances, Amanda was certain that’s what hers would be doing right now. Her chest felt fit to burst, she loved this man so much.

      ‘Grandpa, grazie. I’m so excited. I think I finally have it all up here now,’ she said, knocking her knuckles against her forehead. She then wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him tight. ‘Come on, let’s go and sit in the living room and have a break.’

      Before they could leave the kitchen, Grandpa did his usual check. Deep down, Amanda knew he didn’t doubt her knowledge in the kitchen, but at the same time she was aware that Grandpa liked being thorough. He loved teaching her and repeating the steps to every recipe numerous times and she loved learning from him and could listen to those steps every time he repeated them.

      ‘It will take about …’ Grandpa started.

      ‘… an hour,’ Amanda finished. Both were looking at the oven door.

      ‘Ah, you know.’ Grandpa’s face lit up as he said this. He nodded and walked in the direction of the front room to join the others. He had his arms outstretched, touching the walls as he walked. They were his guide now; he didn’t quite trust his failing eyesight. His shoulders were hunched from years bent over the kitchen counters and his legs wobbled delicately with each step he took.

      Amanda puffed out her chest. She loved the feeling of making her grandpa proud. Then she subtly walked behind him, his shaking legs making her anxious that he would fall. They had been in the kitchen for the better part of an hour, making pizza dough. At ninety-five years old that was no mean feat. You still couldn’t get him out of the kitchen when he had his heart set on cooking. These days, however, he knew when to stop and rest, when his legs couldn’t take his weight much longer and no amount of his determination and strong will could hold off the aches and pains.

      Grandpa went to sit down beside his youngest granddaughter – Amanda’s baby sister, Louisa – on the soft grey couch. Louisa placed a hand on the small of Grandpa’s back, guiding him down, aiding him with his balance as his old knees did their best to bend. Then she scooted up to give him some space and make sure he was comfy.

      Amanda made for the little blue chair in front of the fireplace. This had been the girls’ favourite spot to perch when they were kids. In the cold months, they would run in from school, drop their schoolbags at the foot of the stairs and race to the living room, ready to fight for the chair. With their arms outstretched over the flames they would try to capture the heat, as Grandpa shouted, ‘Careful not to roast,’ with a chuckle. They would tell their nonni about their day and what they had been up to while taking it in turns to sit on the chair, indulging in soft, buttery Bauli cakes as crumbs sprinkled the carpet.

      Things hadn’t changed much, except these days Amanda had to position herself more carefully in the chair. When she looked up she caught sight of Louisa who was grinning, her brown eyes looking from the chair to Amanda. They weren’t kids any more. The precise movement – a twist of the hips and a gentle shuffle to avoid getting stuck between the armrests – was certainly a sight to behold. She couldn’t help but reciprocate Louisa’s grin. She would not get stuck today; she’d mastered this by now.

      ‘Grandpa, would you like a biscuit?’ Louisa asked, picking up the tin and offering it to him.

      ‘Just one?’ he questioned, СКАЧАТЬ