The Language of SeasoningDon't get me wrong, Grandad told a lot of stories. Nobody believed he really crossed the Atlantic on a raft made of plates, or taught Winston Churchill how to make a good salsa, or invented the doily. But, the way he cracked pepper. The way his hands held the mill tight and gave it a sharp twist, one way then the other, his face plain and tight, made me think that the stories he didn't tell dripped out of him like drying paint. Slow. Mournful. Permanent.
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