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Sedanini spelled the Monteroni

Monteroni. Monteroni is a village in the province of Lecce. It is a country very close to Lecce. It is a country where I spent a few days of my life. I remember having written stories about a roll of toilet paper. I remember having seen a fairy baptized with a song to the moon. I remember having spoken so much as to be mold on the walls. I remember with great pleasure. And I'm the kind of memories that permeate the look happy. But I do not remember ever having cooked.

Monteroni And then what does all this mean? Absolutely nothing.

This recipe was born casually Montorsoli in the province of Florence. It should therefore be called "Sedanini spelled the Montorsoli. But there is: me and my brain are we persist in calling this dish "spelled Sedanini to Monteroni.

will be for the 'upstream' policy ...

"Madonna today I've got nothing pe 'favvi to eat. Ossuvvia Biso, TTU and six cook ... help me .... " They start off as the most beautiful moments in the kitchen. This time it happened with the sound of the voice of Valentino. Valentina Montorsoli, in fact. It seems normal for a doctor to do more to help those who feel suddenly ill. And if it happens on the street, it does not to argue for the resources available at that time. Those who choose to be a doctor, this emergency situation and I think the pressure to entertain. In fact, I feel it as a duty: it is the people's lives. So why not a chef should work to help those who suddenly feels devoid of good food without too many stories about the ingredients? The day that you choose to cook these emergency situations and the pressure we have to take into account. Indeed, we choose the right. The prefer. Moreover, it is a duty: it is the happiness of people.

What do you do in these cases? Simple, you open the refrigerator. That day, semi-skimmed milk, red radicchio and gorgonzola. You look a bit 'round the kitchen. That day, shallots, salt, salt, ground black pepper, oranges, brown sugar, vinegar, lemon, extra virgin olive oil, dried pasta short pasta long dry. That day, no garlic. And then you play the lottery of the pan. That day, two pans, a pot for pasta and a pan with milk. Finally, knives and cutting boards. That day, one of the two.

certainly can not say that the number of recipes in the kitchen is proportional to the number of possible ingredients available. There are many solutions, however. And find a solution in the kitchen means to tell a story that gives order and sequence to the ingredients involved. On that day: it was autumn. And it was Autumn Tuscan Apennines: I wanted to undergrowth perfumed. The story: there Gorgonzola with its hints of autumn outfit that claim. Claim for himself the Laurel lumberjack. For their approach, a color she wakes up: the red / brown shades of some of Autumn in the Apennines. Inside this color we were squatting the radicchio and red wine. They were huddled because they were preparing for winter. They joined the others. The risk that the company spread around in the woods radunatasi strong bitterness, was high. All the mountain people, for the winter: all people markedly bitter. The risk was not socialize, ultimately. Then he arrived from distant lands the shallots in the company of cane sugar. Came to mediate, but they were not included. Diametrically opposed to the cold of winter. Incomprehensible to these people mountain. They would have broken the lines, had it not been for the sudden arrival of sweet oranges with their sunny winter Oranges collect the brightness of the exhausted late summer sun, regeneration, and refresh the accompanying preserves and spreads gently until that does not come Spring. Then they go into hibernation in the summer. The oranges are sweet happy only in winter: to each his season. At the end Shallots, Sugar and Orange hugged radicchio, bay leaf, red wine shallots and a few others gathered together. Rounds the whole enveloping embrace of gorgonzola helped by the low-fat milk. In the midst of this embrace, memories of ears of corn.

that day loosened half a slice of gorgonzola dolce (about 150 g) in semi-skimmed milk to obtain a consistency of fondue. In the meantime, I cleaned, washed and cut into strips 1 basket of red chicory. I cried thinly sliced \u200b\u200bshallots 4 medium size. I took the pans: In both drew a circle with some extra virgin olive oil. Taken before the pan to the left, and I put it on the fire to heat the olive oil. I added 3 of the sliced \u200b\u200bscallions. I made them go until they become translucent. I added a spoonful of sugar cane. I made candy and then I added the juice squeezed from half orange. I did pick up the liquid. I was ready for my shallots agro-caramelized. Began to boil water for pasta and more about the stove to heat the oil pan last left, the right one. Hot oil left to dry on the last sliced \u200b\u200bscallions. Time to soften, I added the red radicchio supported by a bay leaf. The offering helped it to cook from time to time a bit 'of red wine. In all, a good glass of Chianti. When the water began to boil, I threw the dough: there were three, to which 240 g. of penne. Scolai pasta and jumped into the pan with the shallots sour-candy until they had collected all of the sauce, maybe helping with some 'water from the pasta. Without this I added radicchio cooked. Stirred well. Time to pour the gorgonzola fondue hot mirror on the plates, to lay the pasta in the center of fondue. We were at the table. Valentina was happy. Sabrina as well. I do too.

With flavor,
Biso

PS: I later settled then reproducing the flavors of the dish with sedanini homemade pasta with the flour of barley. And so the memory of hay that I walk in the nose when I think of Autumn Tuscan Apennines, we marry.

Poly Cystic Ovarian Fibrosis

The question of brakes pt. 2

(that is my time of crisis with the Gipiemme)

here is a post more for the consumption of those who know me and my bike a bit 'more closely. Who remembers the problems in adjusting the brakes just before the Milan Pedala raise your hand!

Well, I have recently riscoprto the brakeless in the round. Having extolled the praises of having two brakes on a fixed one, having been rigorously taken for a ride for young and old, and he caressed the idea of \u200b\u200badding even a hand brake, I had to dismantle everything.

Indeed recently I decided to investigate the anomalies that affect the braking system, immediately aware that (after the fall) the mechanism to postpone the right lever had crumbled, while the left stood up thanks to the handlebar tape, since the bolt to secure it was broken.

It does so Gipiemme ll round the curse that befall me in an ax crying sfigaaaaa , he wiped away a shot in three parts: pedals, cranks and brake levers.

Not bad I would say, right?

currently running brakeless Blackmagic then, waiting for new recruits (the ones that really cost me like a barrel). In reality would require well crank and new wheels, but that's another story;)

Removing Cigarette Smoke Smell

Logbook

Unfortunately, recently I was a little 'back: because of very user-friendly connection I can not follow all the good news on blogs and forums. In addition a number of pressing commitments compel me to give up the fond events of this period: (

There is a silver lining, though: a lot lately are on the road, and from a certain point of view, it led me to reassess many things on the bike fixed gear.

First has changed dramatically the way I ride. In the city did not move, balanced by a greater number of miles inland to high slip, often very busy.

Now, in the small town I find myself to be riding almost continuously throughout the day, mainly on short distances or even short. In Udine, in fact, the bicycle is the ideal: the speed / ease of navigation is great because the whole city is crossed from end to end in 15 minutes.

short, it is still a size such that the car is an unnecessary waste on all fronts, while walking on the media and was still significantly slower.

I also noticed that the bicycle is still half fairly widespread, which means many interesting things, first, the city is well equipped for this kind of acogliere users of the road several bike paths, and in the absence of these, wide sidewalks with a dedicated lane to two wheels, a service Bike rental, excellent road safety education.

This last point is what I'd like to focus: on the one hand it is true that traffic is not remotely comparable to the metropolis, it is also true that drivers seem to me much more careful about what happens on the road, leaving very often room for maneuver on dirt bikes.

also bike paths are really cycling: no obstacles, only a bike, and above all excellent education. I think this is due to a very specific reason: there are many immigrants, most of which run in a bike (I think even for a matter of cost). Almost all have done or are doing the Italian one (just enter in a driving school in order to understand the proportions) and are therefore fresh rules on the proper movement. The way they use the bicycle lanes is enough driving force, and this is confirmed by the testimony of some of my family who admitted that he had noticed not ride the bike properly in the city by observing its circular.

In any case my use of the sets is increasingly consolidating two different types of outputs: the use of everyday experience, is completely separate from the speed (cycling rate is also enjoying the city and its nuances) about half brakeless convenient, handy and standards far more people (position and seat adapted pretty, as well as wide tires to ride safely on the cobblestone town center), and dedicated outputs to go fast wide-ranging outside the city.

Well, I'm gradually losing the way hybrid, always seeking the most extreme (which is simple convenience or efficiency) of the two poles.

All this under the light of a renewed interest in the concept of fixed, almost a desire to rediscover the sense that both had appealed to me at the beginning: now more than ever I'm enjoying the ride brakeless and half stripped of any frills .

Everything is focused on cycling, but is no longer an end in itself, but from time to time find a way.

It happens every now and then having to run errands in ways diametrically opposed, then I try, I look forward to the flow in each movement, I like to get on to live those few minutes of rest: zero braking, it is blasphemy to avoid Skidd for decoration, the lights do not pierce, the strict observance of rights of way and the speed is not a number, but a measure in absolute terms, each ride is extremely smooth, continuous and uninterrupted, the ride is unique and form a trail that draws the path inside the city. It seems almost a kind of dance, fencing ritual aimed purely aesthetic appeal to challenge with genteel other means. It was a long

time since I enjoyed the way down, perhaps because at some point I had made up his mind that mine was a daily struggle to get me off into chaos, faster and with more anger as possible.

But now I play with the bike, I try in every km of the beautiful. And when I go down I can just have found in everything around me, because I realize to be something unique with the way I walk and the places through. And when I stop

not tie it either.