Hearts and artichokes

I did not expect much. It was like any other Sunday morning. 

I was happy to have persuaded my daughter to go to the corner store to pick up a few things for breakfast. Though she was reluctant as ever, she did not have the guts to say no and silently obeyed. It was Mother's Day after all! 

She has never been very fast. She always moved slowly, in an almost noble, slightly aloof way. She seemed to be floating in another world, quite distracted from ours. She never showed her emotions; though she was sensitive, compassionate and quick-witted, it was hard to tell this from outside. She was my cool and distant girl. 

It took some time for her to come back. I was just wondering how slow could she be when the doorbell rang. There she was, suddenly smiling shyly, as if she was not so sure of herself. Her two arms were wrapped around the biggest bouquet I've ever seen. My heart stopped. Here was my mother's day gift. I was choked up, or better to say arti-choked? as it was a bouquet of artichokes. 

Here is what happened: She wanted to buy me something but did not feel like going for the limp ordinary flowers in the supermarket or any other commercial gift. Hopeless, she gave up. But when walking back home from the store, she came across a street vendor selling artichokes. She bargained to have as many artichokes she could buy with all of her pocket money. She knew I adored artichokes. Needless to say it was the prettiest bouquet and best gift I ever received.

My fondness for artichokes is legendary. Last month when I was in Catania, the most exciting experience for me was the roasted artichokes in the La Pescheria market. Sicily has many artichoke festivals, I hope to go to one in the future, but since last year we have our own...