As I opened the suitcase, the musty smell of old books and the weight of the past pressed on my heart and I couldn't help but resent my grandmother.
Growing up, I had always known her as a distant, cold woman who had mistreated my mother and abandoned her to her fate. I had never forgiven her for the pain she had caused her and had always held a grudge.
It was totally unexpected to receive those belongings, books, photographs of my mother as a child, sunglasses with beautiful frames, elegant scarves and a gold bracelet.
My grandmother died sunk in loneliness, she fell into depression after losing her famous coffee shop in a fatal earthquake that took away many souls, many homes and buildings. She took refuge in the countryside and we never heard from her again until the day of her death.
Among the books I received there was one that immediately caught my attention, its cover worn by time let me see its blurred title "Como duelen mis espinas", I began to leaf through it and found a piece of paper with a handwritten recipe.
Chocolate and coffee cake to soothe a heart.
Mix the butter with the sugar, add the eggs and continue beating. Add the flour previously sifted with a pinch of salt and baking powder. Add well concentrated coffee previously prepared, chocolate powder and salted peanuts to enhance the flavors.
Bake.
Wait for it to cool and cut the cake on one side so that there are two equal pieces, this to fill the heart of the cake. Add condensed milk previously beaten with soluble coffee and put the pieces together again.
Serve, present it as the cake that soothes a broken heart.
So far it was clear that this recipe had been written many years ago, the paper was quite worn and the letters somewhat blurred. The handwriting was beautiful and refined, it did not seem to come from an evil woman capable of mistreating her little daughter so harshly and causing her so much harm. It is curious that, even so, it endured more ink on itself and the stitch of the pen did not finish destroying it, with fresh ink and a shaky and tired handwriting was added:
P.S: Forgive me my daughter, forgive me granddaughter. I have nothing more to give, only the recipe that gladdened so many hearts for moments. If someday you make it, try to remember that not all my life I was bad, I know it is difficult, but my conscience is enough for me.
For the first time I felt something more than resentment for my grandmother. Today I made the cake and I could feel that her heart was not totally dark, it also had sweetness in it.
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Last 3 photos from my personal galleryl