.: Make you feel my love

And more… when you are a bit blue, when things are tough o seem confused… you can shape the world.


I’ve already given this recipe, but here it goes, for the newcomers:

200 gr flour
100 gr sugar
80 gr butter
1 egg
baking powder

this time I added some orange flowers fragrance. Just because I need to add some more beauty to this tough world.

Stendete la pasta, e comprate gli stampini più belli

e giocateci come aveste 7 anni. Play like a child. You need to feel like a child. To love the world as a child.

Watch them cook.

E magari fatene due teglie. Così potete darne anche al vicino. Vedrete che il mondo migliorerà. Yes, make a double, and give some to your neighbour. Please: less guns, more biscuits.

Make a better world. Make ‘ em feel your love.

.: Fearless

Things happen. Yes. Qualche amica a volte deve andare via, qualche altro è confuso. Qualcuno si ammala, qualcuno guarisce. Some friends leave, some friend is confused. Someone shivers in the snow, someone is cold in the sun. Qualcuno è ostile, qualcuno è amorevole. Somebody smiles, some other cries.
All we can do is to hold on. Be calm, resist, withstand. Quando tutto intorno si muove, vacilla… stare calmi.
And make a comfort pasta.

Some speck ham, some Asiago cheese. Watch how the cheese melt… taste it slowly. Remember how many good things are there.

“Vi mostrerò la paura in una manciata di polvere.”
“I will show you fear in a handful of dust.”
(The Waste Land, Burial of the dead – T.S. Eliot)

.: Fear not this night

I know it’s kind of paradoxical. E’ strano mettere insieme il cous cous e il maiale, lo so. But life is made of contrasts. Opposite feelings, opposite situations, odd events, weird thoughts. Night and day, fire and ice. La vita è fatta di opposti. Perché non dovrebbe esserlo la cucina?


Fatima had made some more cous cous for me, and I had put some extra (stewed) semolina in the fridge. So I decided to wed it with some pork sausage. Just cut the sausage in small pieces and put it in a pan with the cous cous.
Love it. The semolina become nicely crisp and was perfect with the meat.

Il cous cous è diventato croccante e si abbina perfettamente alla salsiccia. Be’ sì, non lo mangeranno mai in Marocco, almeno non credo. Però… chi lo sa. Non temiamo questo abbinamento. Non temiamo la notte. Sappiamo che il giorno verrà.

Pare che il Re Salomone mangiasse couscous per alleviare le pene d’amore causate dalla Regina di Saba. Ma ciò che è più importante è che il couscous è il cibo della condivisione.. dell’amicizia.
Fatima è partita.. con le lacrime. Spero che sarà felice anche se mi manca già tantissimo. Lei lo avrebbe chiamato seksu.

.: Bicycle ham

It was about 1 pm and I was somehow hungry, but I was not sure: have something or go home ? I was about 1 hour from home… it was a nice sunny day and I was in front of La bicicletta. I decided to stay for a bite.


What are you getting when you ask for “a toast” in Italy ? The regular “toast” is made with two simple toasted bread slices with some cheese and ham. But what kind of ham ?
Ok it’s hard to translate what we call prosciutto cotto, but I think you’ll understand if I say cooked ham.
Anyway, this is what you usually get for a regular italian “toast”.

At La bicicletta, though, they are pride to have special kind of things. I just asked for “a toast” and they served me a toast with some sweet Parma ham, which is what we call prosciutto di Parma. It is a special kind of sweet ham or prosciutto crudo dolce

I am sorry but I didn’t take a picture for I didn’t know it would deserve it so much. But believe me: it was really good. Haven’t had some such good prosciutto in a very long time.
And the coffee was very good too.

I rode my bycicle and the choice was right.

.: Yalla yalla

My friend is going back home, and I’m sad. I’m sad and she’s sad, but there’s nothing we can do. So we stayed together yesterday. We had tea and we talked. She’s a really sweet girl and I would want her to stay. Once again she was so sweet and she cooked her couscous for me.

I loved it. Proprio non capisco chi pensa che tutte le persone nate in uno stesso posto siano uguali. Chi fa gerarchie geografiche, classifiche di esseri umani migliori o peggiori. Detesto sinceramente questa ossessione a testa bassa contro “gli stranieri”, come se si potesse già sapere tutto di una persona ancor prima di conoscerla. Sono triste perché avevo trovato un’amica e ora deve lasciare l’Italia. Forse un giorno ci rivedremo. I hope so. Hope we’ll see again some day.

Sure we all can be friends in food. And in music too.