About the book: year / Returning from work, in the hallway I smelled the long-forgotten smell of coddle*. Strange... Considering that the mother spent the last six months on a threadbare sofa - with an invariable bottle of Beamish** and a TV remote control in her hands. And in moments of enlightenment, she did not prepare anything more complex than the “traditional set number eight”. What to cook it for? I put it in the microwave and that's it. And today suddenly - coddle.