Soufflé by Asli Perker

Author:Asli Perker
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781846591457
Publisher: Saqi

Marc held his bleeding finger under the cold water, and waited. His hands had almost changed shape since he’d started cooking. If he didn’t cut one of his fingers two or three times a week, he’d burn it with oil from the frying pan. He’d come to realise how important it was to put on an apron and why he couldn’t work in a jumper with baggy sleeves. First he’d thought that he could just clean the stove once a week, but he’d soon realised that it was much harder to get the spots out that way, and so he’d started scraping away at the surface every day after washing the dishes.

After making sure that the bleeding had stopped, he turned off the water and put one of the plasters he kept in the basket on the table over his new cut. He went back to his cooking, his ear tuning in to the TV. He’d started leaving the gallery earlier in the evenings now. He needed time to do some grocery shopping and to cook whatever it was he’d bought. He was spending most of his time in the kitchen again, just like in the old days. Only, this time he had his own routines; different to the ones he’d had with Clara. As he carried on dicing the tomatoes, he tried to pay a little more attention to what he was doing. Six people on the show On a Tout Essayé were talking about new books, CDs and films, just as they did every day. He was beginning to realise that he’d never really followed what was going on before. It had always been Clara who had let him know about new things. He’d lived in his own little bubble for years and preferred to only hear about the things he was interested in. Cooking was changing the way he lived; quietly, without forcing or smothering him. He was gladly taking on a new shape in this new life. Now he wondered about the new singers. He realised that he’d started recognising some of the new songs and even whistling along to them. Only in recent months had he started thinking about what kind of a husband he’d been. What did Clara think about his detachment from everyday life? She couldn’t have cared much since she’d never complained, but had she ever wished he was a different kind of man?

Just as he was about to cut his finger again, he saved it in the nick of time. This must be happening so often because the knife was so sharp. It was going to get blunt at some point, and maybe then he’d stop butchering himself. He added the chopped tomatoes to the lightly fried onions and garlic and mixed them all together. Now it was time for the mushrooms, squash, aubergine and peppers. He looked at the open page of the book at his side to see how he had to cut them. They should be in cubes; small cubes.

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