From where I stood, there was no way to guess what was cooking inside the large mansion. From outside the house, I could not guess what was being cooked inside, even though the strong scent could have led me on. Crispy sweetmeats simmering and sizzling in huge bronze pots. A graceful woman kept going back and forth carrying large bowls of baked candies on her hip. From another room came the whisper of the television. Standing by the door, the curvy figure of a young beauty a young woman acknowledged my presence with a delicate smile.
In the courtyard, two little boys played with sticks and sand. There was no separation between life and work, among family and colleagues. I wondered what their working hours were.
In her cosy New England kitchen, my grandmother is serving me a cup of green tea. She then sits in front of me, staring. Finally, she asks
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