Spied on how a neighbor's grandmother bakes pies, and abandoned her treats forever

The attitude to food is always a personal matter. Some people like chips and soda, everything is sweet. In this case, a person may even be underweight. Someone gravitates more towards a healthy diet and monitors calories. Such people usually still go in for sports or just lose weight. And for someone, once the grandmother baked pies - that's all. A person cannot live a day without flour.



Also, don't forget about the quality of the products and their purity. Many food lovers frown at the shawarma at the nearest kiosk. But they are ready to overpay several times to taste this dish in a restaurant. With an incomprehensible name like "Doner in Algerian".

Grandma baked pies Reader's story “I'm not picky about food at all. I can eat what they give. Home cooking or restaurant cooking - what's the difference? Ingredients are all bought on the market, ”my friend thinks, and she is probably right about something. But recently I have become a gastronomic prude and fussy.

I'll start over. I am 26 years old, married, I have a little daughter. We live in my husband's apartment as three of us and, in principle, it suits us. The apartment is two-room, sorry for the Khrushchev. But recently they made repairs and it became a little easier.



With the onset of a pandemic and endless quarantines, I turned into a real housewife, and even with a child in my arms. Eternal cooking, cleaning and shopping began to be interrupted by activities with my daughter. We learn to read and write. We do all sorts of exercises for logic and so on. In a word, routine, but what to do.

My husband is on perpetual watch, so, I think, it is much harder for him. Although, perhaps, more fun. We communicate from time to time through video calls, but you understand, this is not enough. Due to the poor quality of the network, communication is dwindling, and even more so, my daughter loves long conversations with her dad.



I have no close friends, and I’m too lazy to go and talk about anything with someone I know, and I don’t want to. But one case changed everything. One day a neighbor came to me, a grandmother of God's dandelion, to complain that the TV was playing loudly. There was indeed a sound, but it came from the apartment next door. The conflict was quickly settled, and we somehow became friends with a neighbor, or something.

She began to often come to us and share homemade treats: sometimes she would bring pies or casseroles. Well, at the same time, we will spread the latest news from the TV or a neighboring yard. In the Arctic, the glaciers are melting, and across the house from us, a cat gave birth to four kittens. The usual conversations in general.

Sometimes I bought a cake or something and gave it to granny when she came. It was somehow embarrassing to knock on her own door, and the child was alone in the apartment. And then one day the little one fell asleep, and I was impatient to share the waffle tins with the old woman. Well, remember, there were once. I decided to go to her personally.



The neighbor was at home and was very happy about my arrival. I immediately thanked for the molds and promised to make a lot of such sweets for me and my daughter. But I was not thrilled.

Her apartment, although it was located in our entrance, had only one room. And besides the granny, there were two other little mongrels and one cat lying lazily on the couch. In principle, the apartment was cleaned. The furniture was only the most necessary and some antediluvian technology.

But in the kitchen ... The table is littered with flour, jam and some kind of minced meat. Of course, everything is in animal fur. Even their bowls were not somewhere in the corner, but right in the middle of the room. As I later found out, the dogs were just taking food from the bowls and the grandma had already come to terms with it. A couple of times I saw pieces of dough falling to the floor, but then returning back to the bulk.



No, you don't get me wrong, I understand that Granny did not do all this out of malice, such an age. But you can understand me too. But the little daughter ate almost everything that was prepared in that kitchen. In general, I thanked and referred to the fact that I should run to my daughter, went home. That day, for the first time, I did not open the door to my neighbor when she came.

In short, it was a real shock for me. I am not a very squeamish person, but unsanitary conditions are unacceptable. While I was remembering this quiet horror, my thoughts led me to the fact that now I will only take milk and cottage cheese only in the store. But before, I often bought homemade milk from old women near the supermarket. They say, I will help a person, and homemade food is tastier. It doesn't taste any better now.



GettyImages That's the way. The only thing, I am ashamed that I stopped communicating with my grandmother, my neighbor. It's not her fault that she expresses her sympathy for cooking. And I don't know how to take and throw away food. Advise what to do. Maybe just explain everything to her, what if she gets offended?

Council Thank you for the interesting story. In her own way, of course, she is sad. But we are glad that my grandmother is doing well with her health and she can afford not only to cook at will, but also to feed domestic animals, and even neighbors. Try to just keep communicating with her as before. And to attempts to share food, answer, they say, I went on a diet and now you can only eat some fruits that you can't buy anywhere near. We think this should work.