In my kitchen they live together sacred and profane food, aliments that can be found on the best chef storerooms, to particular gravy, gluttonies and obsessions coming from all over the world and will never be part of the food Olympus.
Their aim is the same, to wake up the sleeping synapses, calm down the wrecked nerves, stimulate shivers on backbone.
Good or bad news deserves to be sublimated with a flavor, excellent or junk, that can shake me like a couple maracas and olè.
If the frantic search of emotions through the tastebuds is a disease, I’ve been affected, as many other ones.
The Itranae Oil was the protagonist of one of those moments, when recently I got home after a never ending day and before pulling off the shoes, or letting the purse go, I brang a dish, some chestnut bread slices and dropped some brilliant and scenting drops. At first bite I found the peace.