My culinary history is rather thin, learned much from my mother cook.
course, being male, do not think that my mother put there to explain things. We felt that with my sister, but (sigh) if not just spinning.
were the days of rock & roll (stuff from the museum), the Platters (those Smoke Gets In Your Eyes , tanto per capirci), dei mangiadischi (come dire un post di Morso ;-]. Non esistevano le cuffie ma mia sorella riusciva lo stesso ad ignorarla.
[Smoke Gets in Your Eyes
They asked me how I knew
My true love was true
Oh, I of course replied
Something here inside cannot be denied
They said someday you'll find
All who love are blind
Oh, when your heart's on fire
You must realize
Smoke gets in your eyes
So I chaffed them and I gaily laughed
To think they could doubt my love
Yet today my love has flown away
I am without my love
Now laughing friends deride Tears I can not hide
Oh, I know I smile and say When a lovely flame dies
Smoke gets in your eyes Smoke gets in your eyes]
I, meanwhile, was playing soldiers (they said so) under the kitchen table. It was a pretty big table, protective, wooden floor with white marble and gray marked by daily life.
And when not in use, the marble was covered with a plastic flower tovagliaccia (horrible, but there was not much to choose from and Geneviève Lethu not exist yet).
I was hidden under them, invisible and silent until my mother forgot me, playing with the clothes pegs. They were beautiful wooden pegs steel spring (just clips).
New (old or less) lighter, the same were the American soldiers, the old, dirty and dark with lots of rain, were the Germans.
The Italians were not removed because the collective post-war did not make it possible to believe in us as a warlike people. The war are always the others, " Italian, good people."
Needless to say, let the Americans always win even if I remember, at times, acts of heroism German. Even then I tried in my small way, to be politically correct .
course from under the table I could see what my mother was doing. But I could hear and smell.
Pertanto la mia scuola si è basata sui sensi sbagliati, una specie di don Gnocchi per cuochi.
Riuscivo a sentire i movimenti, le volte che girava la salsa, quando aggiungeva qualcosa che sfrigolava, se c’era vino o no, il profumo del ragù che vira quando non spruzza più il pomodoro fuori dalla pentola ma comincia a pippeteare con lente bolle mentre cambia di colore (voi da sopra potete vedere).
Cucina tradizionale quindi e per giunta monca di un elemento fondamentale, la vista.
Non solo questo limite ma anche nelle scelte dei cibi (alimenti per me è un’asettica parolaccia) in quanto a quei tempi si mangiavano poche e ripetitive cose e ad ogni giorno corrispondeva un piatto (più o meno gradito). The satisfaction of users (we children) was minimal on Friday with pasta and beans and salt cod (now drive me crazy) and the maximum on Sunday ( Sauce, sauce, sauce). Sundays often were the desserts (we called "paste").
So I know something of pasta (spaghetti, ziti, paccheri, maltagliati etc..), Fish (anchovies, squid and cod various preserved), meat and vegetables, rice only one with the cabbage and the mythical sartù.
sauces and gravies know practically only those made with oil, garlic and / or onion, carrots (a few), celery (a lot), walk & pine nuts, basil or parsley, olives and capers.
Butter only on bread.
Well, my story, my limits in a few lines.
yet, and yet, yet, when I looked out the internet talking about shiro miso, yeast debating about, discuss with property kamut flour or chestnut, ginger use almost every day as well as cornstarch, things that until two months ago was completely ignorant.
Aaargh! WHAT is happening to me?
Did you infected?
BECOME 'TOO ????????????? VEGETARIAN
So, pass a hand on your heart because it is also (a little) your fault if, by some time I think of a new section to be open: Shares (Visions of Condiments) which reproduce in your recipes, it is YOUR own !!!!!
I have already made and photographed the carrot cake of Scriba, chicken poppy seed Glo, the experiment No. 1 Lory, the flan Cavoletto onions, then green beans, etc. for Max. etc.. Abstract
Compulsory obviously play them does not mean belittling the same because changes are allowed, is not always tracking down the right ingredients, tools and pots are wrong or maybe just different, and last but not least, the hand (mine) could be false!
Well, let's start from expensive paper Cooks - Hack for sympathy and even gratitude in because (you do not know) but besides discovering in their wander, they offered me their help in a dense collection of letters (emailario?) introducing into the secrets of blogs (to me unknown)! For other shares
simply go ... in no particular order.
Guten Apetit!
carrot cake cheese
The recipe I followed almost slavishly, so the resume here scribes.
The only variations are:
natural yogurt 150 g (instead of a jar)
kamut flour 300 gr. + A little more '(instead of 2 jars)
4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil (instead of 1 / 3 of jar)
grated cheese is not too late: abundant fresh parmesan and provolone (instead of Freiburg, Piave Mezzano or similar) and I added
7-8 minced roasted hazelnuts.
so far is the only existing way to eat carrots to my daughters and I confirm that she is beautiful, soft and warm is good too, even better cold!
And what about the scribe?
Thanks dear, to make good!
Ciccillo that is guarding the oven
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