‘Are they ready yet?’ Asks my daughter as soon as she slides the chocolate biscuits into the oven and closes the door. She hasn’t even taken her oven mitts off.
‘Not yet, they need 10 minutes.’ I say.
‘Oh,’ she says pulling up a chair and sitting down to watch her chocolate biscuits cook. The girls have a little oven in their kitchen. It’s at their height and the dials are easily used by them. It sits on a cupboard I found out on the street, which has since been painted and repurposed as their kitchen bench.
She is making chocolate biscuits for when her friends come over to play. She made invitations for them yesterday and hasn’t quite understood that it can take a little more time than this for her friends to actually appear at our house.
‘Is it 10 minutes now?’ she asks a minute later.
‘Lets make the ganache.’ By the time the biscuits are ready, there is more ganache on her face than in the bowl. She decides not to wait for her friends to arrive before eating the biscuits.