There are such things that are simply created in order to be magical. In general, something to cook - it is sometimes very similar to magic, but there is something that you necessarily do with a piece of magic.
Mulled wine.
Every time I plunge into harmony when I cook it. Everything around ceases to exist. Breathe in and out.
You heat a bottle of red wine in your hands, and then you open it gently. The smell of summer.
In a small saucepan with a semicircular bottom - freshly squeezed orange juice, just a little bit, so that only covered the bottom and a little more. And then there's an eye on cinnamon, ginger, clove, pepper on the tip of the knife. And the scent around. You stir it, you need to keep the temperature so that only a little bit is boiling. Sometimes you lift yourself to the tips of your fingers to get another box of herbs from the shelf. And pour it in pinch, without a spoon. Silently.
Simultaneously cut a small thick-blossoming orange. In the beginning, in half, one half entirely in another pan, and the second - with a sharp knife on thin rings. Now the smells are mixed and you slide between them, you dance, stir with a long spoon of spice in the juice.
The saucepan is replaced. In the second only half an orange. Gently, so as not to spill, pour wine there. It's getting hot. In the smallest fire. Gently pour juice with spices through the strainer, hinder, try, pinch, throw a couple of cubes of brown sugar, add a teaspoon of absinthe and wait.
Now it is impossible to boil. In no case should you allow a boil, otherwise all the alcohol will evaporate and everything will be spoiled. It is necessary to catch this line between "just about" and "most that". The temperature should be kept such that "it is about to boil right now," but do not bring it to a boil. And around such a smell that already, it seems, is drunk. Magic bursts out. Waiting ... Click. The fire is extinguished, and the wine is still a little worried, but it also ceases through the secundum.
Gently poured into the mugs on the legs, which are still a bit cold outside, but already so hot inside. And as a finishing touch - a ring of orange, a stick of cinnamon and a straw. Necessarily real, not plastic.
Silence.
And then the voice of the man, about whom you, while cooking, has completely forgotten:

- Watch how you make mulled wine - fine.
And we laugh.
Wine also laughs at us in return. And outside the window the snow is falling and falling.

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