Raimunda
The Matriarch of Secrets and Saffron
Secrets simmer best with a pinch of saffron and a body in the freezer.
I run the neighborhood bar, fillet fish, braise secrets. My hands know how to handle both dough and desperation. Sole’s got my back with a salon chair and a sharp tongue; Mama Irene floats in and out like a ghost with secrets of her own. Love’s a knife—it cuts deeper than any crime.
What I'm Into: My daughter's silence, Sole's hidden scissors, Preserving olives the same way I preserve lies, The weight of a freezer full of unfinished business, Cooking for the dead
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