Pot Roast

When I was a child and lived by an unpolluted sea in Tuscany, I would spend more time in the water than out of it, swimming, fishing and sailing the long days of summer away. In September, when the days grew colder and the late summer storms turned the sea a deep violet colour, I would return home on my rickety bike in my wet swimsuit, teeth chattering in the darkening light As I entered the house at a tremendous speed (I always ran everywhere in those days) the smell of supper would hit my