Spelled biscuits with blueberry jam

We still do not know yet, we have an Oscar. That it is not the neighbor’s dog with a wrinkled neck and the voice that becomes more shrill when he calls it.

It  is a true Oscar, the silhouette of the little man with the powerful thighs, lacquered with gold. We do not talk about anything else and, if you ask grandma, will tell you that Sorrentino is a handsome man, a little ‘ descarpentà (something that lies between the disheveled and the messy) but that night had a nice suit. She, however, preferred the tie to the bow tie.

The most curious thing is a certain collective awakening. Certainly not the awakening from the sleep of the righteous, but rather the return to reality after a state of trance: confused, frightened and half-conscious in an ugly country and practically in disarray. But no, it is said since yesterday. Sorrentino won the Oscar, so we are not really in ruins.

Baked omelette with escarole and bresaola

I’m putting the gills.
Perhaps even a dorsal fin. To swim, however, I am not able and I will not learn this time 🙂

in short, what do you want me to say? It’s raining, then it seems to stop, then it drips, then it pours.

And I do not do anything ” I’m singing in the rain “, on the contrary.

Me and the winter rain we’re not very nice. I love spying it with my nose on the glass and I hate walking under it when it’s too cold.
But you, in one way or another, always know how to get your feet drenched and enjoy knowing that I constantly forget the umbrella, as soon as I support it somewhere.

Now, among the countless reasons why it is worth preparing an omelette on a rainy day, everyone wins the convenience: avoid going out to go to the supermarket. You have the eggs right there, right? Then there is everything you need 🙂 let’s face it: whatever your perverse mind or the crying shelves of the refrigerator will have to offer you will turn into a superb Omelette Lady. And this is not only true with the rain.

 

Green cauliflower meatballs, cooked ham and gorgonzola

The Rocker is influenced. Nose dripping, red throat and cough.
And the Rocker is a male person.
For them, you know, flu is never a simple seasonal illness. Some line of fever pushes them with one foot in the pit, the nose will collapse at any moment and the throat –  oh God, the throat  – that one will never return as before, better to meditate the will.
A sick man in the house, do you understand? It means that your already precarious daily tranquility is over, gone,  kaput .
He makes the tragic from his bed post, which includes sweater with fur and cover up to the armpits.

Today, so as not to miss anything, I cooked a nice green cabbage.
What to tell you, theeau de chou-fleur  has blissfully invaded the kitchen: for that, you know, there is no nose plugged that holds, I miss the one of the Rocker that oooh, if he heard it 🙂

 

Christmas homemade: Homemade crunchy muesli

Always there in Christmas rush? Here comes the second episode of homemade gifts 🙂

You all have this: the passionate friend  of natural wellbeing and tending to the ecologism, maybe even  tagged as the undersigned: P … do you have to find the right gift? Those who have already tried to buy a gift know that there are at least three risks to run:
– lose tenths on the street in the effort to read the miniscule characters of the labels on the body cream.

– offer hostage to the organic store to settle the purchase account.

– be looked at with utter contempt, as if you had just killed the saleswoman’s cat, requesting the package with recycled paper.

And instead? Instead this year you just need a home-made muesli, tremendously fast and of sure effect on naturomani souls 🙂

 

Mulled wine

It’s not like I got alcohol, it’s clear.
Or maybe a little ‘yes? 🙂
Let’s say that the uninterrupted rain of these days has helped a lot. And at the weather you have to add at least two other triggers.
First :  fairs with rather curious hours and subjects. The inflammation of the vocal cords and the sore feet are nothing if one thinks of the enjoyment of a truly bizarre sample of humanity. I’m meditating a dedicated post and a suitable recipe 🙂
Second : the arrival in Turin with the Rocker’s dorsiione, armed with  guitars and similar to settle in 30 sqm + the new Ikea desk to be assembled 🙂
A beautiful mulled wine there is everything, at least to relax the nerves.
Ah, I forgot my dripping nose.
Here, now you need cups at least two, so then I sing and do not think about it 🙂
Then I have an adoration for good recipes, especially for the spirit. They are those without precise and weighed ingredients, but just as the hands and the palate know.

 

Pepper biscuits

The pepper cookies are one of those things that if you do not do them and then eat them, hard to believe it.
A bit like Sara Tommasi, a novice half a nun or a growing Italian GDP.
I, then, a catechism I always supported for St. Thomas: it was a bit ‘arrogant and I liked a lot. We would have a long game of cards and drinks of good Sangria, trusting the list of things we do not believe in.

I would have told him that I do not believe in easy things, because I do not think they will last. Instead, I believe in the beauty of the difficulty, of building something at your own risk, something where it is worth dunking with fatigue up to your neck.

That I do not believe in bad luck or even in the fact that each of us has a prepackaged destiny, like the salad in an envelope.

Doubting things is tremendously more challenging and uncomfortable, because it throws you in front of a myriad of possibilities, all those that, with the blind assent, not even exist. A yes with your head and it all ends there, understand? Without too many worries.

Still, I doubt they are fond of it. I can not help but think that it is a sign of healthy blood that turns, to refresh unconformed minds.

 

Mini croissants with apples, honey and cinnamon

 

Today I was on the train. And from there I made a quick and summary account of the hours of my – almost – quarter of a century passed over the blue seats.
What then to me to travel by train is always liked. The train is the inexhaustible container of human types, all concentrated in one carriage.
Before Turin adopted me, I was a commuter of those early birds, a 6.37 train, at the dark hour of the solitary. But I was referring to the return, around 18.30. From my corner I looked at the humanity that unrolled itself before my eyes, like a kaleidoscope made of bizarre shapes and colors.
There is what you call by videoconference making you participate in the fact that tonight does not know whether to go to the party or not, yet Marta is a strafiga and I have to do.
There is what cares and you sleep long all the way, maybe losing his stop.
There is the devotee of the paper, who carries in the bag the 600-page brick around the city, just to enjoy it at the end of the day, sunk in the seat.
There’s what gets on the train to find someone to tell his life, for the rest of the trip.
There is that which is not centered, lives in the balance between his two worlds and occasionally screams, while I wonder where he is and what he feels, according to him.

 

Chickpea flour gnocchi with pumpkin, butter and sage

It’s 23 and 27 and the cursor flashes like a madman, telling me it’s late, but late very late. It also makes me realize that tomorrow my dark circles will have even more nuances, from bluish to pearl gray, and that will probably come to touch my knees. Everyone lives only as he knows and I can not stay still. If I could break the nights and eat them in shreds – much Hannibal Lecter – not to stop to sleep, but continue to grind steps, thoughts, projects, with frantic and greedy hands.

Feed energy in a thousand directions and in the evening I find myself exhausted, but happy. Except when on La7 there is PiazzaPulita. Or, worse, Report on Rai 3. There I take the hard incazzatura to pass and I get an anguish about what will become of me, this country tired and the night, thinking about it, I sleep as if on nails.

With the result that then the dark circles take possession of me, as I said here on.

So today I stopped everything and I prepared these. Because butter and sage is my good seasoning, the one that puts me at peace with the world.

 

Fish Burger

Cod

[mer-lùz-zo]  sm

  • 1Large greyish sea fish, with three dorsal fins; It is typical of the North Atlantic and its meat, very nutritious and tasty, is eaten fresh, dried (dried cod) or cut in half and salted (cod), while from its liver is obtained an oil ( cod liver oil ) used in pharmacies
  • 2Popular name of hake or other similar species
  • A clumsy person, awkward in his movements:  he remained there like a cod

This stream of consciousness starts from a summer advertisement in which a Santa Claus dressed as a sailor gives lunch on the ship to a band of athletic boys.
Lunch consists of a fish burger and the fish in question is cod, definition in point 1. The definition in point 3, instead, reflects exactly my feeling when the supermarket sees the aforementioned lunch, frozen and in the supermarket freezer counter: I take it, turn it around, read it, turn it over while in my head the enthusiastic voice of advertising announces: “The captain!”.
Hmmm.
I stay there, in short.
With a decidedly Merluzzian face, so much so that it has happened several times that someone in the ward tells me: “Signorina, I do not see her convinced” … and no they are not, my dear shop assistant.

 

Dandelion flowers in batter

(… ossignur ! I would also like to start this post with the etymology of the word “Spring” … but scrolling the pages of Mr. dedicated Google I found myself uhmmm ante, with the drop of Japanese cartoons over the head: -.- ‘therefore referring to uhmmmm1 and uhmmmmm2 :))

” It’s primaveeeeraaaa … wake up, baby girls ” do you know her ?? 🙂 It ‘a refrain that bounces punctually in the head every year in this period … soon after, by association of ideas antithetical arrives her, our LorettonaGoggi, which instead of spring mica endured her much 🙂
I especially like it the idea of ​​’splendor’ that accompanies it … the incessant unfolding of the seasons is a sight that one forgets too quickly … their arrival crashes on you every time with a new force 🙂 Drum roll : D … I’m honored (and excited!) In presenting the contest organized by Ricci Picci and Capricci , the blog of the fantastic Babette 🙂 🙂

… and what have I got to do with it? … I have to do it, I have to do it … because with great temerity Babette – ahinoi, ahivoi, ahitutti !! 😉 – has appointed me to be sworn together with Vale and compass !! What an honor !!! 🙂
Now (assuming that I’m the one in the pizzeria that takes six to eight hours to choose pizza: P) the moment is solemn: I thank Babette of course for the trust and I promise to fulfill this task with extreme commitment 🙂 Meanwhile I enclose the regulation directly from the site and I invite you to run to the stove to participate in many: D