My grandfather- "Where in Spain did you come from, Grandpop?" asked the
8 yr old, "I came from a place, it was so fucking nice, I never went
back." replied the crusty, 8 fingered septuagenarian- cooked on a coal
burner w/ a matching boiler in the basement.. Bread, fish w/the head on,
bacon & eggs..
Of course I might be bitter if I left Iberia to wrestle anthracite out
of the ground and spent the next 60 yrs humping it up the stairs, or
badgering one of his sons to do it, to cook.

I recall that  both were nickel detailed w/ a functional aesthetic that
I've only seen since in some firearms and japanese chisels..
I recall the dust motes dancing in the sun rays because wood & coal
stoves are so inherently dirty & inefficient.
I recall how damn dirty we would get everyday there..
I recall how my mother insisted on an electric range until the day she
died because an open flame was a throwback to the middle ages..

DD