BRADEN CARMICHA
“I’d add more garlic than that.” My youngest, Elle, peered over my shoulder and into the pan of ingredients I’d add to my Bolognese later. The Bolognese I’d made the family for years and needed no instruction on how to cook.
“Oi, no sous cheffing. Don’t you have homework?” I nodded toward the breakfast nook where she’d been working on her tablet.