Number 13 wonders whether number 9 may look at the flag at number 17 a little more intensely; for now, number 13 also sees it from a slightly different perspective, more immediate, more personal.
Number 13 goes to work and casually describes breakfast as a hot cross bun pan-fried in butter with a drizzle of leftover blood orange juice while licking za'atar from their fingertips. The last part sounds oddly sensual and fetishistic, but it's more practical. Now, they appreciate it a little more; they make extra effort to ensure it doesn't languish in a cupboard. It is sprinkled with regularity.
The day after number 13 gets gifted the plant, number 9 asks how the thyme is doing. Without thinking, number 13 replies, "Still alive…"
"Don't overwater it", number 9 stresses.
They all wait, and they wait, for number 10 to take the action they so desperately need.
In the meantime, the flag at number 17 disappears...
The pondered (late winter) salad
It is early February; you've had the blood oranges in your fridge for a few weeks now, but you've been too distracted to savour them. Your favourite winter salad, usually consumed in January, is a combination of radicchio, blood orange, olive oil, and burrata, possibly with some pine nuts, but always seasoned with flaky sea salt (I adore Blackthorn salt for this kind of dish) and coarse black pepper.
Image: Zaytoun ingredients with radicchio, blood orange and blackthorn salt.
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