One day my uncle’s wife went somewhere for a couple of weeks. To her sister or to her mother. And when we came to visit him, we asked him what he ate without his wife, because they knew that he had never been a friend of cooking. He smoked a cigarette and said:

I cook soups, boiled all kinds of sauces.

Do you know how to cook?

He pulled a cigarette, as the character from the militant pulled a cigar before some heroic phrase, and says:

What to know here? In time mixed the foods in the right proportions and ate while it was hot.