When a recipe calls for a whole chopped onion, most of us start by cutting through the top and root sections, removing the layers of paper-thin skin, then inspecting for any skanky layers or black sooty mould that can sometimes lie in the inner layers. The waste is discarded without much thought.
I have a memory of my grandmother standing over me, inspecting the detritus and making sure I wasn't being a 'wasteful chef'.
Our lives, like the onions we use, can be dissected layer by layer, and sorted into the good bits and the bad bits. The stories in this book delve into some of the layers of my life — the good and the bad — including the people, the lessons, and the recipes that sustained me through them.
