Call it Pie Mona Lisa, as the book says, or cake with lemon oil or lemon cake as you want ... but for me it is and will always remain ciambellone Diego.
We were born three years apart, but I think there was an error, the stork has perhaps the wrong road, and he filed late, but I am sure that in principle had to be some kind of twins, probably Siamese. Yes Ringers.
tried the scar somewhere, among the many I have, each of which tells its story, that of separation, I never found it. I concluded then that the timing was right: 1971, 1974 ... there were no errors, but still ... stuck with the glue of love we have always been, even now that we live so far away and I know, we miss you each other and not a day goes by where I do not think about him and maybe he did not think of me.
I could dedicate a carrot cake for an old joke between us is too complicated to explain, or any chocolate cake, an ingredient of which he can never do without, but the donut Diego is the cake of memories, of snacks prepared especially for him, with the oil that came from the garden of olive trees and lemon trees that had only reach out to a coglierene the window of the hall, made by a child who still needs to stand on a chair to reach take sugar and flour and mess around with a wooden cucchaio ingredients just to see the big brother smile and satisfaction to see him eat, enjoy the taste with which for years has been its cake preferita, la nostra merenda insieme, fra Bim Bum Bam e una partita a pallone, fra i compiti di scuola e i giochi fantastici.
La pagina 124 del manuale di Nonna Papera, edizione del 1985, è consumata. Una macchia di impasto, è il segno indelebile del passaggio di una bambina pasticciona.
Alcune parole sono state così tanto lette e consumate, da un ditino che teneva il segno, per leggere, che sono ripassate in penna blu, calligafia infantile: 250, zucchero, aggiungere, liev(ito)...
Quanti anni son passati, quante volte avrò fatto questo dolce soffice e profumato, conservato poi nella memoria, dove sono appesi i sapori e gli odori, che un bel giorno rediscover and you back in time ... and you're swinging the olive tree and push him to collect or anemones and cyclamen in the wild meadows for Mom or to play anything, laughing, joking, arguing, sulking and then peace.
In late July of 2009 we met and embraced for the last time and a vacuum is created in a part of my soul in disorder. At last I found him off the scar that was looking for all along: it was in the chest, left, deep down, inside, deep and invisible, but there was. It was from the heart that we were together always and forever, a node so strong that not even distance kilometers and can dissolve, dilute.
How we've done and lived insieme...anche da grandi.
Sulla mia scrivania, accanto al computer ho da sempre una foto di noi due, io sono ancora in carrozzina, lui sorride birichino a meno di un passo.
È il mio modo di averti più vicino.
Mi manchi.
Ingredienti
350 gr di farina
250 gr di zucchero
2 uova
1 limone
1 bicchiere di latte (200ml)
1 bicchiere di olio (200ml) per questa ho fatto metà extra vergine d'oliva e metà di arachidi
1 tablespoon baking
a pinch of salt.
sugar
From: Handbook of Grandma Duck, Arnoldo Mondadori Editore, reprint 1985 (I was 11!):
"paid a recipeinte sugar and egg yolks and beat well with a wooden spoon, add the oil and work some more '. Add flour and milk gradually, so that there is no little effort to mix and grated lemon zest. United finally, stirring constantly, lemon juice, salt and yeast. Whip the whites of the eggs, mix them up by mixing and pour the mixture into a greased and floured cake pan. Bake at 140 degrees for 45 minutes then sprinkle sugar.
Ele and Diego (when we were cute)
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