When I got sick when I was little, the only thing I wanted to eat was my grandmother's porridge. Although my mother swears that she used the exact same recipe, it was never the same. Often, my grandmother would end up coming to my house to make it for me because I wouldn't eat what my mom had made. There is just something innately comforting about nan's porridge.

Today feels like a porridge day. I'd give anything to be in her kitchen eating hot porridge with a cold glass of milk.


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