Hand-drawn coloured design of a whisk, knife and spoon crossed over purple flowers and green leaves, with a yellow banner reading Mis en place.

Whisk, knife and spoon with flowers and banner

Botanical · Mixed · Flash

The drawing shows a blue whisk centred above a grey knife and a brown spoon, crossed at the handle. Purple five-petalled flowers with yellow centres and green leaves frame the kitchen tools, and a yellow scroll banner at the base carries the words Mis en place in black lettering. The outlines are marker and pencil with light hatching, and the colours are bold and flat on lined paper.

Botanical Knife Flower Leaf Banner Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had been coming off the Tuesday market stalls since six, and by nine Marisol had stopped pretending the awning would hold. She tipped the crates of shallots onto the back ledge of the van and stacked the cracked egg boxes under the counter. Her brother Dev was already on the far side of the square, arguing with the man who sold oysters about the price of a whole bucket. She could hear him laughing through the drizzle.

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The notebook lived in the glovebox with the receipts and the spare fuses. Every Tuesday she wrote the order out in the same careful capitals her grandmother had used on the back of the pantry door: whisks for the batter, the good paring knife, the long wooden spoon with the burn mark near the bowl. Mis en place, her grandmother used to say, pointing with a wooden spoon at the jars lined up like soldiers. Everything in its place before the heat arrives. Marisol had never once got it all in its place, and she had never once been told off for it.

By eleven the rain eased to a fine grey mist and the square smelled of wet cardboard and frying onions. Dev came back with two paper cups of tea and a bag of clementines he swore were a gift. He found her sitting on the tailgate, the notebook open on her knee, the page full of drawn flowers and a banner with the words spelled out in black letters that ran uphill.

"You've drawn the whisk again," he said, handing her the tea.

"It was always the whisk," she said. She turned the page over. On the back, in her grandmother's hand, someone had written: Leave one thing out on purpose, so you remember why you came.