The magic white sauce

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. She loved to experiment.

One day visitors from far far away arrived. The little girl’s mother was still at work when they knocked at the door. The little girl opened the door and had an idea. She was excited and wanted to cook something special for the visitors. She had never cooked before…

So, she boiled pasta, like she had seen her mother boil pasta many times before and created the magic white sauce: just butter, milk and flour… loads of flour…

The little girl’s mother arrived when everybody was eating happily pasta with the magic white sauce. She got some too… Her face turned green and her eyes almost left her face… No, she didn’t like it and made sure everybody else knew this too… and the magic white sauce became a favourite topic in conversations.

But not for the little girl.

The little girl was sad and hurt.

The years passed and the little girl grew up. The story about the magic white sauce was living on. Her mother continued sharing it. She found it so amusing. The big girl didn’t find it amusing at all.

The big girl continued experimenting in the kitchen and loads of people loved her food – but not her mother.

The big girl stopped cooking for her mother a long time ago. Nothing was good enough! The big girl was also tired of listening to her mother praising the culinary wonders of her little sister.

Her mother never understood the real power of the magic white sauce… did you?

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “The magic white sauce

  1. Pingback: I need… (still a draft – SAT am version) « Chrissi Nerantzi

  2. Pingback: The magic white sauce | PGCAP News Blog

  3. Pingback: I need… | PGCAP News Blog

  4. yes, I think I do. Kindness and good will.

    You would think people could recognise it from afar.

    It reminds me of Yeats’ poem:

    “Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
    Enwrought with golden and silver light,
    The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
    Of night and light and the half light,
    I would spread the cloths under your feet:
    But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
    I have spread my dreams under your feet;
    Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

    William Butler Yeats

  5. Great story. Mine would be…

    Yesterday in the grocery I met a man with a shopping cart full of large cans of tomato juice and a mop. “My dog tangled with a skunk and now has spread the smell all over the house so I’ll bath him in tomato juice like we used to.”

    Told him our dogs did the same and we tried tomato juice but it didn’t work.

    “Well, the dog knows that but I’m not convinced.”

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s