“What do you need me to bring for the weekend,” I asked my sister. “I don’t think we have maple syrup if you’re making pancakes.”
So that’s what I packed. (#264)
Then the next night, I went to B’s for dinner. It’s always a bit strange to be in the house that once belonged to me and now has a whole life without me, but I slide into tending to the veggies as she cooks the meat I demanded outside. “just throw some mustard and maple syrup in as you caramelize those Brussels sprouts,” she ordered. I complied, thinking about Canadian, maple infused sprouts compared to the creamy ones I make for Finch. And thinking that I’m officially old if I can get excited about Brussels sprouts.