Tonight I consoled! Me
prepare him as a child, I was seven years old and still remember what I used to pan ... always the same, aluminum dots blacks, because my mother, like me, who prefer to cook pots and polish every time, every time I turn over the omelet, I remember that I was good when I was a child and now, with all non-stick pan, spatula and fork, sometimes I can not.
Before going down into the garden to collect the eggs.
And here is a must parentheses (The henhouse).
The house of our house was a small bunker.
One morning, I was just tiny, I awoke to the cries of my "Mary!" Maria! " my father called from the garden and came back to my mother while I still rub my eyes.
What a scene!
- The dead chickens were scattered over the beds with the neck cut off.
What impression!
Mother: "paccaaatu Uuh!" and united to the cross as he said and shook his palms ...
They took me home ... I was stunned.
It was a weasel, so I was told, now live in my heart, then it was far suburbs, the countryside and the caves were really close and at night the stone marten had the party.
was also successful in the past that we had stolen the hen and then ...
Dad ingenious and creative in the evening itself had sketched on a sheet of paper the design of his next job: The new chicken coop
A square brick building with a sloping roof of carparo in ... hear hear:
concrete.
My father spent his days in the garden to build the coop (u caddrinaru) and you could not even get close because you were female, and you drove, and I just was curious because I was female ...
The dish on the table waiting for him ... never stopped ... a hitch, due to his lack of military occupation was, was a challenge for him ...
And the night he woke up thinking about how ... Still today 76 years ago as well.
The door of the house? At least 5 cm thick.
E. .. listen, listen ...
THE ALARM!
Well yes ... I'm sure now I will explain many things, I grew up in a family that had hens with alarm ...!
Before you open the sturdy door with no handle, because it was more difficult to open, you would first pull and hold your left hand pulled a piece of wire (the wire of the brake of the bicycle) to defuse the alarm and open the same time door, with his right hand.
must be removed to collect eggs and then reinsert it.
In fact, the chickens, which by all accounts do not have brains, but I have puntuse (spiteful) to die in the new chicken coop had learned to eat the eggs ... and even there father had devised another mechanism: a box of fruit down with a flap that protected the eggs ... you know the ball of the football when you goal? so.
The alarm was connected to a bell in the hallway, the original button was in the bathroom, what you use when there is no toilet paper, but we lacked the paper when we heard throughout the neighborhood as we screamed ... the bell was used for the chickens ...
And when it rained at night and it was contact and played like mad?
Aah ... that pleasure!
Not only do we wake up the ring ... Dad was also castimava ... and his mother saying
" Necessariu was? ... 'pe doi caddrine " (was it really necessary for two chickens?)
So I said ... after collecting fresh eggs (in addition to the cumbersome nature of the alarm I had to overcome the terror, yet still have for the chickens, after the destruction I had seen that morning as a child) ... I came into the kitchen.
I took the bowl, we broke the egg, the egg and you put salt and Parmesan cheese (I had always grate before, because one of my home cheese was, and still is banned, what cheese, grated indeed, with two days, it was for females Camasco (lazy) than of substance, like my mom, grated at the moment).
Then we also put the mint ... when I remembered, gathered from the garden when I took the eggs, otherwise, I came back in the garden, always zompettando, because I never walk normal, I was masculazza (masculine and not at all graceful), and then ... 'zzumpava ...
Put the oil in a pan on the stove a little child, I watched him against the light to see when it began to smoke and then pours the omelet.
Me are just now ago. My mother taught me to clean the pot with your thumb, because what was left in the pot ... "fija is my paccatu ...!" (it's a pity my daughter!).
And the instinct is to ... to clean the pot with your finger, tonight I did not because I still have the battery working, usually I do ... just like my childhood.
Sometimes I think I'm grown up too early, at 14 months, my father took my pacifier because I was already great, my brother had arrived ... and it was always a little too responsible ...
Ironically perhaps are less so now ...
Perhaps these things are paid in time ...
And the children want to feel always comes out ...
I was preparing for an omelette sandwich of my brothers, their first ... and then my last, because I like hot hot, with crusty bread.
Just like the one tonight ...
Then I sat on the steps of the kitchen ...
and dream ... with bread and pancake in my hands ...
