To boil potatoes without lighting the fire

(from my memoir 'to Paris for lunch') Oma Erna, my Father's Mother, was furious! 'Get out of my kitchen and put some clothes on!' Fritz, my Opa, had for the fifth time that morning interfered with the way she used the hot water: he told her she had put the cooker on too high for … Continue reading To boil potatoes without lighting the fire