are a raindrop falling into Lake Itasca. Before it I was tear drop. Then I'll be the sea.
to arrive in New Orleans driven by the great father Meschacebé, it will take 90 days.
I'll have to move from Minneapolis, Davenport, St. Louis, Memphis, and finally lose Batoun Rouge - New Orleans past - in the Gulf Stream that will take me somewhere.
What a strange life ... I know, I do. All the drops of rain before I did. All have run, slowed down, blown, foamed up apparently to dissolve to form the sea.
I know it's my duty. It is the sea.
But it can not be all. There must be something else. And if not, we want to put it.
Meschacebé Father, let the sea come my way. I only ask to have my time: I promise and swear, reach the sea. But give me the opportunity to get in my way.
not ask for much. It's a question of pace.
I'd like to slow down in Greenville, jump into the water bottle of BB King on his bus and stay up to hear him whisper to Mayerville The trill 's gone. I would also like to upriver. And going back, back in time and managed to get caught in the hair of Son House, which bathes in Riverton, relax enough to hear him sing and his hands John the Revelator and resume my journey as soon as the heat will lead to diving again. I've sworn that I will be the sea: then give me a moment to go back. Then
having as banks continue to flow music: Caledonia, Sweet Home Chicago, Call it stormy Monday, Every day I've ... All the blues songs that musicians of this land called 'standards'. Run to the sea, thinking that the blues is commonly called "standard" a well-known theme music that over time has become a classic of music. And passarei from Vicksburg and feel the fat bass sound Willy Dixon Hoochie Coochie Man And then going through as a spray in front of the Paine Lake I remember hearing this playing standard Muddy Waters, Jimmy Hendrix , Buddy Guy and Eric Clapton, The Allman Brothers Band still Eric Clapton: In general, any bluesman proposes its own version of a standard according to their own feelings or making a song totally distorting this gradual changes: changes in harmonic, melodic and rhythmic improvisation, musical instrument. What surprised me the blues I guess. And slow down. And slowing immersed in these sounds, I realized that the music of this land would make me think about food. I would think that in Italian cooking are the "standard". What is Lasagna, meat sauce, bread, eggplant Parmigiana, Peppers, Pasta alla carbonara if not the 'standard food "? Dishes are very well known that over time have become classics of Italian cooking: each then preparing them according to their feelings by distorting completely or by making a gradual change. Here Mescachebè
old father, perhaps the kitchen and the blues tell this natural way to reach the sea in a free: vary according to their own feelings. It's all about rhythm.
How wonderful cook. I still have much
river in front of me, I continue to flow.
This standard interpretation of that wonderful Italian cuisine called Lasagna, was born in a place that is an incentive for me: Quoquomuseo taste. Here I will propose questions that continually gives me joy to answer. It is a place where food is not just food.
Then, we begin to cook for 12 people. It takes the right amount of lasagna made by hand and finely drawn. Then it takes the oregano flavored sauce made with a quart of milk, 90 g of butter and 90 g of flour. Even a few handfuls of grated Parmesan cheese (but also the grain is fine). 1 kg of onions and 3 kg of gold leaf waste of turnips. Yeah, because that day the matter to Quoquomuseo was: how to use leftovers or scraps in the kitchen?
Have you ever noticed how many leaves are removed during cleaning turnips because they are too "large" and then fibrous and tough love? Well. Let's use rather than discard them. Otherwise, what are the alchemy wielding chefs?
are cut into julienne strips coarse where the leaves join the onions cut roughly equally. Take a large pan, there lies a carpet of olive oil. You put the vegetables in and only then you turn on the fire. The turnips do not have to fry. Must first simmer the turnips and then fry. And you do not need any measure, we think the turnips themselves: to what hunt water, stove. When water is withdrawn, fry.
Also take good care when rape "crying". There's crying and crying. There is a crying tantrum of a child who knows: in this case, do not worry about the rape. There is a cry for help that is: time is time to take care of the turnips and begin to move them into the pan. In this changing of the cry, the turnips will be greatly reduced in volume. It takes about an hour before the sauce is ready for rape. Then salt and black pepper.
In the meantime, if you have not already done so, it is time to prepare the dough: eggs, flour and muscles. Once ready to cook them in salt water and dry on the clothes of cotton that does not smell of White Musk or Coccolino
... There is also time for the white sauce, but wants time to herself. He does not tolerate distractions.
Once everything is ready, begin the writing process. It quickly
greasy soil of the pan with the sauce of beets and then in sequence: lasagne, white sauce (not abound. The cooked lasagna should not sweat), sauce, turnip leaves, grated cheese. And then lasagne, white sauce, salsa and cheese. I have done all four times. But even three can go: I do not like the lasagna-skyscraper. Ready
the pan, the oven at 190 ° expected. We'll bake the lasagna and expects the cheese on top and caramels take that tone of brown that is typical of the mushrooms. There are times
quantitatively determined in the lasagna. Just as there are in the blues. It is the intention, the sensitivity, is what has to be communicated, is the experience of the senses that this movement. So
Today, in this recipe cooking times are the cry of rape, the thickening of the sauce, the color of the cheese.
How I wish my kitchen had the flavor of Son House .
With flavor,
Biso
to arrive in New Orleans driven by the great father Meschacebé, it will take 90 days.
I'll have to move from Minneapolis, Davenport, St. Louis, Memphis, and finally lose Batoun Rouge - New Orleans past - in the Gulf Stream that will take me somewhere.
What a strange life ... I know, I do. All the drops of rain before I did. All have run, slowed down, blown, foamed up apparently to dissolve to form the sea.
I know it's my duty. It is the sea.
But it can not be all. There must be something else. And if not, we want to put it.
Meschacebé Father, let the sea come my way. I only ask to have my time: I promise and swear, reach the sea. But give me the opportunity to get in my way.
not ask for much. It's a question of pace.
I'd like to slow down in Greenville, jump into the water bottle of BB King on his bus and stay up to hear him whisper to Mayerville The trill 's gone. I would also like to upriver. And going back, back in time and managed to get caught in the hair of Son House, which bathes in Riverton, relax enough to hear him sing and his hands John the Revelator and resume my journey as soon as the heat will lead to diving again. I've sworn that I will be the sea: then give me a moment to go back. Then
having as banks continue to flow music: Caledonia, Sweet Home Chicago, Call it stormy Monday, Every day I've ... All the blues songs that musicians of this land called 'standards'. Run to the sea, thinking that the blues is commonly called "standard" a well-known theme music that over time has become a classic of music. And passarei from Vicksburg and feel the fat bass sound Willy Dixon Hoochie Coochie Man And then going through as a spray in front of the Paine Lake I remember hearing this playing standard Muddy Waters, Jimmy Hendrix , Buddy Guy and Eric Clapton, The Allman Brothers Band still Eric Clapton: In general, any bluesman proposes its own version of a standard according to their own feelings or making a song totally distorting this gradual changes: changes in harmonic, melodic and rhythmic improvisation, musical instrument. What surprised me the blues I guess. And slow down. And slowing immersed in these sounds, I realized that the music of this land would make me think about food. I would think that in Italian cooking are the "standard". What is Lasagna, meat sauce, bread, eggplant Parmigiana, Peppers, Pasta alla carbonara if not the 'standard food "? Dishes are very well known that over time have become classics of Italian cooking: each then preparing them according to their feelings by distorting completely or by making a gradual change. Here Mescachebè
old father, perhaps the kitchen and the blues tell this natural way to reach the sea in a free: vary according to their own feelings. It's all about rhythm.
How wonderful cook. I still have much
river in front of me, I continue to flow.
This standard interpretation of that wonderful Italian cuisine called Lasagna, was born in a place that is an incentive for me: Quoquomuseo taste. Here I will propose questions that continually gives me joy to answer. It is a place where food is not just food.
Then, we begin to cook for 12 people. It takes the right amount of lasagna made by hand and finely drawn. Then it takes the oregano flavored sauce made with a quart of milk, 90 g of butter and 90 g of flour. Even a few handfuls of grated Parmesan cheese (but also the grain is fine). 1 kg of onions and 3 kg of gold leaf waste of turnips. Yeah, because that day the matter to Quoquomuseo was: how to use leftovers or scraps in the kitchen?
Have you ever noticed how many leaves are removed during cleaning turnips because they are too "large" and then fibrous and tough love? Well. Let's use rather than discard them. Otherwise, what are the alchemy wielding chefs?
are cut into julienne strips coarse where the leaves join the onions cut roughly equally. Take a large pan, there lies a carpet of olive oil. You put the vegetables in and only then you turn on the fire. The turnips do not have to fry. Must first simmer the turnips and then fry. And you do not need any measure, we think the turnips themselves: to what hunt water, stove. When water is withdrawn, fry.
Also take good care when rape "crying". There's crying and crying. There is a crying tantrum of a child who knows: in this case, do not worry about the rape. There is a cry for help that is: time is time to take care of the turnips and begin to move them into the pan. In this changing of the cry, the turnips will be greatly reduced in volume. It takes about an hour before the sauce is ready for rape. Then salt and black pepper.
In the meantime, if you have not already done so, it is time to prepare the dough: eggs, flour and muscles. Once ready to cook them in salt water and dry on the clothes of cotton that does not smell of White Musk or Coccolino
... There is also time for the white sauce, but wants time to herself. He does not tolerate distractions.
Once everything is ready, begin the writing process. It quickly
greasy soil of the pan with the sauce of beets and then in sequence: lasagne, white sauce (not abound. The cooked lasagna should not sweat), sauce, turnip leaves, grated cheese. And then lasagne, white sauce, salsa and cheese. I have done all four times. But even three can go: I do not like the lasagna-skyscraper. Ready
the pan, the oven at 190 ° expected. We'll bake the lasagna and expects the cheese on top and caramels take that tone of brown that is typical of the mushrooms. There are times
quantitatively determined in the lasagna. Just as there are in the blues. It is the intention, the sensitivity, is what has to be communicated, is the experience of the senses that this movement. So
Today, in this recipe cooking times are the cry of rape, the thickening of the sauce, the color of the cheese.
How I wish my kitchen had the flavor of Son House .
With flavor,
Biso
