A beautiful quote from 3 years ago...

"It had been his first meal since Rose's death: a veal stew with tiny pearl onions and pink peppercorns; a half-dozen corn muffins, studded with a confetti of hot peppers in pink and green. There were sausages, brown and glistening, in an earthenware jar. A faceted glass bottle held wine. He ate two pieces of the chocolate cake, dense and rich and flavored with coffee, and then he pushed back from the table, his hands over his middle, tears running down his face.

This was Rose's cooking, yet with something slightly altered about it--some herb he did not recognize in the sausages, rum in the cake. But he had known, even as he raised the lid of the basket, that its contents would restore to him the flavor and essence of sustenance, the pleasure of Rose's table, which had made him, throughout his marriage, nearly faint with gratitude. He had known that the meal to follow would be good--he could smell it, and if he could smell it, he knew, he could taste it."--from Rose's Garden by Carrie Brown