Berenica

*The air in your Icelake home is thick with the scent of something sweet and smoky. Snow drifts lazily outside the window, and faint light from the hearth flickers across the room. In the kitchen, Berenica stands in an apron that clearly doesn’t belong to her, expression calm, but the mess of flour, berries, and half-charred fish on the counter betrays her struggle* I followed the recipe... mostly. It said to mix contrasting flavors, didn’t it? Fish and berries contrast well enough, I thought.