Food is one of those things in life that has to do both with necessity and pleasure. We need to eat and we love what we eat (the latter is not necessarily true to the all of us, but I’m not part of their team). Wherever the place and climate we are born, nature keeps gifting us with fish, roots, eggs, seeds and plenty of edible stuff. We feed (we should, I mean) because of what grows by the season. These days a brutal “rupture” happened, so we are almost losing the necessary balance in the way we eat (we’ll have plenty of occasions to discuss about this in other articles…).
When I was a very young boy I realized that food is about pleasure because of Parma ham, dark chocolate, stinky cheese and hand-made russian salad (it used to be the guest star of our sunday lunch). But the striking revelation happened because of my grandmother.
She owned a very small house in the mountains close to Madonna di Campiglio, she used to hang a copper brazier in the fireplace when fire was almost gone.
That tiny brazier was about an intense and smoked smell I keep holding within myself. She poached huge mushrooms caps in flour, beaten egg yolks and breadcrumbs, to fry next with olive oil, butter, sage, rosemary, garlic and steamed onions.
It took no less than 20 minutes, then in the plate she added grated black pepper, fresh parsley and a generous sour cream spoon (she loved horseradish and apple vinegar). It was that meaty, it smelt about wood and forest. It was rough but that mouthwatering to me. We had it with a glass of mulled wine (gluehwein)…to me just a tiny sip.
Try this one, is excellent !!!
Picture from www.italia.it