Sometimes I think I was fortunaterrimo to be born in Italy rather than in Finland. OK, I'm not raving, let me explain: Can you imagine growing up with bread and reindeer? A'll never hear the scent of a tomato, the crunch of a carrot wash your teeth ache, the pleasant tingling of eggplant or homemade pecorino , the weight of the beneficial cassoeula , the enigmatic aroma of clove ' garlic that has decided to stay in the stomach for a few days?
No, I'm no food nun je the would!
Example: yesterday evening dinner by the distinguished, based pici with meat sauce, followed by a tub of chocolate ice cream in 4 variations. Rosso di Montefalco and Recioto to polish the pipes.
But how can you live without it? How do you survive potatoes in cans, in packaged foods? O
without coffee seriously. Or without pizza, focaccia, spare grill, wraps, tigelle, watercress, burlenghi, fried dumplings, Pucci, pants, etc..
Well, at least in this, W Italy.
And fuck the proponents of sashimi, tandoori, the nouvelle cuisine. Yes, ok, it's all good. But before talking about sashimi, sample mondeghili , a timbale of macaroni, tajarin with liver, tripe, or an omelet made trivial as it should. And sant'iddio, enough I'm Nero d'Avola, broke the balls! There are spectacular wines in Italy, Sangiovese from the Taurasi from Gavi Pecorino (yes, there is a grape - and wine - so called), from Freisa Aglianico, etc.. etc..
not a matter of nationalism or "Made in Italy is that you miss so much.
And if you insist, your cock, you do not know what you're missing!
burp!
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