Sudoko and Wild Pancakes

The cork had been harvested from the tree next to our table at the crêperie hidden in the mountains near Argeles leaving the trunk bloody. The cork will reform. It has been at least two years since I have eaten here, discovered years before by my buddy and brother-wantabe RB2. He would stand below my window before lunch and bellow "Wild Pancakes" and I would rush out and we would make our way up the windy road past 13th century churches, vineyards and streams.

The tables are placed on different terraces and mostly they serve crêpes. The husband of the couple that own it is a chef, who once worked in Collioure, and they are still there. His name is Jimmy, like my father's. No matter how hot it is below, here it is cool as the wind whispers through the trees.

This day I was with a friend and former colleague who is hanging out for a few days with me, a real treat for we have fallen into that easy complicity of just being. And one of the things she introduced to me, was the trick on solving Sudokos. As we mumphed down absolutely over the top desserts, I finally got it.