A Stringed Instrument Ch. 07

I wondered how a former Communist would have felt about his son's success in real estate.

"Grandpa worked around here as a car mechanic. I think the garage is still full of his stuff, Yaya doesn't go in there if she can help it. Once Dad was in school she sold fruit and veggies at the market."

"There was a younger brother, though?" I remembered seeing his name in the school history project she'd shown me, and the dates: 1955-1961.

She glanced over at Kalliope to check that she was still asleep. "Yes. I had no idea until I started doing that project. I started drawing Dad into the tree as an only child, and she took the pen from me and drew him in. It's the only time she's ever mentioned him. One of those things that just doesn't get talked about. There are a couple of old photos with him and Dad, cute little kid, but I don't even know where he's buried."

"Not with your grandpa?"

"I don't think so. He's not on the inscription, anyway. All a mystery, and if she and Dad don't want to talk about it..." A shrug. "Of course I'm curious, but I don't want to stir up painful memories. I can live without knowing. So, tell me about yours."

"Nothing as exciting. Well, maybe Grandad Ponting. He was a country-town dentist, died when I was twelve. One day before retirement. Quite unexpected."

"Oh dear. What happened?"

"Turned out... you know how dentists use nitrous oxide for anaesthetic? Well, it goes off or something, so if it gets past its use-by you have to get rid of it. So Grandad used to get together with the local doctor and they'd have a little nitrous party. Day before his retirement, the doctor's out of town... you can guess the rest."

"Hm. Okay, yeah, that's a different way to go. I guess he would've died happy."

"Guess so. Rough on Granny though. Well, rough on everybody, I really loved him and I was pretty upset. But his insurance wouldn't pay out until the coroner ruled it was accidental death —"

Before I could continue that story, we were interrupted by the doorbell: RJ and Leon were back. Phoebe nudged Kalliope awake, and then we got on with the business of separating and whipping eggs. (They go into the soup, along with the juice: it makes for a lovely sort of foam on top.)

Although it wasn't a substitute for a Sunday night with Phoebe, dinner was entertaining. The soup was well worth the trouble, and Leon had an endless stock of funny stories. Phoebe and I sat next to one another, and played ankles under the table when we could get away with it; I was almost sorry when it was time to call it a night.

Once again RJ and Phoebe dropped me at my place. I'd meant to stay up long enough to talk to her once she got home, but two days of gardening had left me exhausted, and I had plans for tomorrow night. So I messaged Phoebe — Going to bed, call me in the morning — and lay down to find out what the next day had in store.

Avgolemono:

1 chicken

Handful of salt (I don't usually salt my food but this recipe needs it)

3 cups rice

6 eggs

1 cup lemon juice (fresh if available)

Seasonings: cumin, garlic/garlic salt, onion salt, whatever seems good

Rub the salt into the skin of the chicken, then simmer for about 40 minutes, until the flesh comes away from the bones easily. Add seasonings to taste. Take out the chicken and draw off a mug of stock -- you'll want this later. Add the rice to the pot to cook. If you're using white rice you can switch off the heat at this point and just let it cook in the residual heat, brown rice may need a bit more cooking. Strip the meat from the chicken, tear into bite-sized pieces, return to the pot.

Separate eggs and break up the yolks. Beat the whites until stiff peaks form, then stir in the yolks, then the mug of stock, then the lemon juice. Bring the pot back to the boil, stir in the egg-lemon-stock mix, and serve.

Normally I'd only make this in winter, but it works as comfort food too. The initial prep takes a while; after you've stripped the chicken you can throw everything in the fridge overnight and then finish the process next day. You can freeze leftovers, but you'll need to add more water and lemon juice when you reheat -- the rice really soaks them up.