I loathe ketchup. I think it is solely for the purpose of covering up inedible food.
In spite of that, we get a lot of return guests.
One day a guest enquired about a little sanctuary in a corner of our garden, (a pet cemetery).
“Who’s buried there?” he asked.
Without a pause for breath my partner answered, “A guest who asked for ketchup for his eggs benny!”
Food plays an important role in each and every one of my books. In The Memory of Roses, my characters enjoy fried Greek cheese (Saganaki) and black olives and thin sliced fried eggplant and tiny fried fish you eat whole, bones and all. In Delighting In Your Company, I describe the kind of heavy English meal the plantation owners enjoyed in the early 1800’s in the Caribbean. My hero in Sonata, a rough and tumble Vancouver cop, cooks for a hobby and has a kitchen that was designed for him, one that could never be taken for a woman’s.
In the scene below, Sayuri first sees Michael Donovan’s kitchen.
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