Four food bloggers for four seasons and one ingredient a month.
Objective: natural cuisine .
Every month we will propose a seasonal ingredient creating a real menu dedicated to him. As in the best lunches with friends, each of us will bring something: appetizer, first course, second course, dessert (when you can) or, possibly, a side dish 🙂 Impossible? BROWSE OUR FIRST BOOK OF RECIPES!
And, if you really feel like an Seasoner, take part in our PICNIC ONLINE 🙂
But why is looking for seasonality of ingredients so important?
Supermarkets have accustomed us to find any kind of fruit or vegetables at any time of the year and it does not matter if the tomatoes at Christmas do not know anything, they are picked green and brought to maturation in cold storage without being able to get rich nutrients ( especially vitamins) and cost a fortune.
Following the seasonality of the products means grasping the best of the energetic and organoleptic properties of the ingredients and, consequently, following a better diet and a more genuine lifestyle.
Tell me that you have not already packed everything, that you have no idea what to buy to your bittersweet half, that these pre-Christmas days have something hellish for you as well. This afternoon I throw myself into the crowd and count on the inspiration of the moment. If you do not come back alive, know that I tried. First, however, let me inaugurate as every year, the most cialtrona party: #ANataleFalloHomemade . It never starts before December 15th and ends in the race until the fateful day of exchange gifts.
If you’re the kind of person who does not come back on the morning of the 24th, welcome.
We are many, only that others do not say it. They pretend to be giving you that horrible red fleece scarf in July, while they are still out of breath for the ride.
I did not take acute carotitis , really. Although I think someone at the market this morning has had serious doubts about my sanity. Imagine a hooded blonde whirling around the market stalls. He looks around the furious search for orange and squints myopic to see the most distant cassettes. Carotecarotecarote . He passes nonchalantly near the vans and puts his head inside.
Dribble the grannies with the trolley and the strollers, skip the dogs on a leash, lower to peek behind the counter. Anything. The carrots are all sadly and strictly bald.
Of the emerald tuft not even the shadow, ended up somewhere in some mountain of trash. Now I want to know why in other markets yes and in my no. I have an alopecia-friendly market .
In the South you cry three times: when you arrive, when you leave and when, once you get home, you get on the scales. I came back last night and I do not have the slightest intention to climb, be clear 🙂
Blessed are the holidays, the happy bagords, the extra glass of red, the frying pans in which the oil sizzles and the cooking grandmothers. I enjoyed this Sicilian mix without thinking about the slightest physical activity and without squeezing the hips between thumb and forefinger.
Do you remember the game of “if I were”? In all the worst tests of the IE, which was bought for that terrible blue lip gloss as a gift, there was at least one question that began with “if I were”. If you were an animal, would you be? If I were a city? If I were a song? Maybe I would be an insetta, to be able to slip everywhere and look at the world and the lives of others from bars, private houses, roofs, bus. A tiny and agile insect, of those who do not show up. And not so bad, please. As a city I’m fine with anything, maybe not exactly where it’s so cold, if not then my feet freeze. And I need those: I have to dance on Drops of Jupiterwhich is the song that I would be now if I were a song. If I were an atmospheric phenomenon, I would be lukewarm wind. If I were a season I would be this: not yet summer. If I were a room, I’d be the kitchen.
What if I was a food?
This time I do not get lost in chatter, eh. They are further back than the last of the Mohicans. All my adventure companions have already said their on Sedici and I instead are here to write and it is almost midnight. But it was a nice weekend, exciting, messed up and tomorrow is Monday again. Only one thing will save us: breakfast. Breakfast is the moment when you wait for a moment before feeding yourself to the world. The cup welcomes you even if you have shaggy hair, eyes half closed and the murderous murmur 🙂
This month at Sedici we talk about fresh fruit, color, flavors that quench thirst. I had no doubts: cherry . And yes, it’s time to wait a few more days … but they will come and they will be better than ever.
Today Rob Breszny asked me: “When was the last time you loved yourself?”
The last time I looked at myself in the mirror without finding any faults, the last time I could say no, the last time I put the pleasure to duty … I have vague memories, they are sporadic, rarefied episodes that they happen and soon after they are lost in the tangle of the days.
What should I say to you, Rob, it’s not like I remember you well last time 🙂
The fringe is never in its place, I have a white agenda that still can not give me the organization I need, my head full of projects, the material time I run away and in the evening, just resting the seat at the sofa, by reflex my eyes close. No, I do not particularly love myself. I scold, I feel guilty, I take responsibility and commitments. I am a blond landslide, which rolls down towards May as it reflects on the good intentions that had been drawn up for the current year … when is the deadline for realizing them? Proroghiamo? 🙂
Let’s face it: we have an exceptional timing 🙂 after days and days of springtime, sunny, full of pollen and first ducks, just today, I slept with the duvet pulled up to the ears. But let’s start from the beginning.
Do you remember the collections? Those things that were done in cooking blogs a few years ago, where you chose a topic and all the other bloggers helped to develop it, creating a virtual mini book downloadable 🙂 many hands, in different places and times, that mix, photograph, write it is an idea that enchants me and makes me think that true, clean and good things still exist somewhere.
Do not you hear it too? A strong smell, a bit sour, intense … cheese. I love him madly. The fault of course is all his own: take advantage of my moments of weakness. Just before dinner, to say. Or about two o’clock in the afternoon when I climb the last flight of stairs, I close the door behind me, I put myself in socks and my stomach growls. F ormaggi o. That marvelous mass of coagulated milk, of which there are millions of nuances.
Could Niki Segnit, author of La GrammaticadeiSapori , not dedicate a chapter to it? Sixteen, this month has the reassuring and intense taste of the cheese family. They range from the most delicate to those really strong … which happens to be hosted right here 🙂
The changes, the evolutions, the re-starts, the movement of these last weeks.
A strenuous movement, not always so fluid and light, yet energetic and full of new things. I moved under a sky too blue to be February, I stuck my whole life in cardboard boxes and suitcases, I transported it and reopened it in a new space, with lots of wood and lots of light. Changing your home upsets you. For a few days you look stupid, shaken, a little lost. Then everything starts to flow. Get familiar with the spaces, dust them, fill them, take a few steps away to see if they are all right. Changing a house immediately a bit ‘scares, because there is to be paid, make the transfer of utilities, the sheet for the waste tax, there is to feel a little’ bigger.
Then the policeman arrives and asks you: “But are you Marzia I’m looking for?” And you look like the postman of De Filippi. The look is not so different, do you know? Is there any mail for me? 🙂