Das Marillenmädchen

It tasted of smoke and the burnt bottom of the pot, yet sweet, this jam, so that one only wanted to take a spoonful and then it was enough. Enough memory, enough to make my heart stir and beat faster than was good for me. An apricot tree in an old Viennese garden. Since her childhood in the 1940s, Elisabetta has been making jam every summer. And every time she takes a jar from the old cellar shelf, opens it, and breathes in the sweet scent, she remembers her life, her family murdered in Dachau, her great love Franz, her daughter Esther, and her granddaughter Rahel. Elisabetta lives a reclusive life in her world with the voices of the past. When the dancer Pola moves in as her subtenant, the old wounds are reopened.