When even a tomato sympathizes

 

I came into the kitchen with the grace of a donkey staggering around the market after being overloaded with sacks of potatoes. My head was buzzing, my nose was stuffy, and my body as a whole seemed dissatisfied with the fact of its existence.

"I think I'm sick," I said sadly to the tomato and coffee beans, who had settled comfortably on the kitchen table next to the sugar bowl.

"So that's why you look worse than yesterday's iced tea," the tomato said sympathetically.

"And I thought you were just having a morning crisis of existence," the coffee beans added.

"No, it's something more serious. Perhaps my body has decided to go on strike.

"Then you need a good healing drink," the coffee beans said thoughtfully. "In Ancient Egypt, they made a wonderful warming drink from milk, honey, and dates. Even the pharaohs could drink it.

" - Or maybe even Cleopatra! - the tomato happily picked up.

- Although the pharaohs, of course, preferred wine and beer, - the coffee beans honestly admitted.

I sat down at the table and looked at them suspiciously.

- Are you sure this will help?

- Of course! - they answered in chorus.

- Good. Then, frying pan, it's your finest hour. Tell me.

The frying pan, standing on the stove with a sense of dignity, straightened up and spoke:

- This drink was prepared in Ancient Egypt to strengthen health and vitality. It is not only tasty, but also nutritious. The main ingredients: 1 liter of milk, 5-6 large dates, 2 tablespoons of honey and a little spices.

I opened the notebook and began to write.

- First, dates. They need to be cut in half and remove the pits. In Egypt, dates were often soaked in water to make them softer, but we will do it more simply - we will boil them in milk.

- Excellent idea! - approved the tomato.

- Then milk. Pour it into a saucepan and put it on low heat. As soon as it heats up, add the dates. You need to keep the mixture on the heat for about ten minutes, stirring.

- The main thing is that it does not boil over, - put in the coffee beans.

- True, - agreed the frying pan. - Now spices. In Egypt, they liked to add cardamom, cinnamon and sometimes a little nutmeg. The cardamom needs to be lightly crushed so that it gives off its aroma better.

- And how much? - I asked.

- One or two cardamom pods, a pinch of cinnamon and a pinch of nutmeg.

I nodded and wrote it down.

- After ten minutes of cooking, remove the milk from the heat and strain through a sieve. The dates can be mashed into a puree and returned to the drink, or left as is.

- And honey? - the tomato reminded.

- You add honey at the very end, when the milk has cooled down a bit, to preserve its beneficial properties, - the frying pan explained.

I finished writing the last words and stood up, rubbing my hands.

- Well, let's try.

The tomato and coffee beans watched the process with great attention. When I finally poured the drink into cups and took the first sip, the world around me immediately became a little warmer and cozier.

- Delicious! - I said in surprise.

- We told you so, - the coffee beans answered proudly.

- Perhaps Cleopatra really did drink it, - the tomato added thoughtfully.

I smiled, wrapping myself in a warm wave of milky-date aroma. It seemed that this day could be considered saved.