The Tuesday Dish

Dilara has her father's small restaurant. Her father is dead. Every Tuesday old Mr. Yilmaz asks for "the Tuesday dish, the way your father made it." It is not on the menu. It is not in the notebooks. Dilara cooks it three times. It is too salty. It is too dry. It is too sweet. Mr. Yilmaz says, "Thank you. Next Tuesday." On the fourth Tuesday she closes the notebooks. She remembers her father's hands and the onions with cinnamon. She cooks. Mr. Yilmaz tastes it. "Not the same," he says. "But the same."