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Zea maize and chained

Zea mais, pianta di origine messicana, con le sue pannocchie dorate ci porta in tavola un ingrediente genuino e semplice, ma gustosissimo e prelibato: la farina di mais e, dunque, tutto quello che si può produrre con essa.

Il mio ragazzo quest'autunno ne ha coltivato alcune piante, dalle quali abbiamo ricavato bellissime pannocchie di varie tonalità, dal giallo oro al rosso mattone. Dalla macina dei chicchi abbiamo ottenuto una farina molto rustic and very genuine, because it contains all parts of the grain, a flour from whole corn.

So, go for polenta! In Liguria, then we have a delicious recipe, polenta chained, which includes the addition of cabbage cooking in the flour. This yellow-green polenta can also be accompanied by various condiments, but the most classic with sausage sauce or with butter and cheese.

Introducing our favorite version: polenta with gorgonzola chained.

For 2 persons:

200g of corn flour

700ml water

a cabbage

salt

gorgonzola taste [and there is usually plenty!]

Cut the cabbage into thin strips thin and dip it in 700ml of aqcua in a large pot. Bring to a boil, then begin to slowly add the flour, stirring well to prevent lumps. Add salt and cook the polenta for three quarters of an hour stirring almost constantly [if you use a pot at the bottom of the aluminum can stir up a bit 'less]. Once cooked, pour a ladle in hot dishes and accompanied by large piece of gorgonzola.

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LIKE WATER

La parola di Dio è come l'acqua. Come l'acqua, essa discende dal cielo. Come l'acqua, rinfresca l'anima. Come l'acqua non si conserva in vasi d'oro o d'argento ma nella povertà dei recipienti di terracotta, così la parola divina si conserva solo in chi rende se stesso umile come un vaso di terracotta.
Stiamo camminando nel tempo della Quaresima che, a suo modo, è simile a un deserto e, quando si vive in una steppa arida, la realtà a cui più si anela è l'acqua, il principio stesso della sopravvivenza. Ho voluto oggi proporre a tutti - anche a chi mi legge e forse si considera non credente - un passo molto suggestivo del Talmud ebraico che celebra la fecondità della parola divina. Yes, we need an item that is not always and only our own, often ended in vain and empty chatter, but that comes from above, has the seal of immortality, the strength of certainty. We need a word that does not clouding the soul, not shrinks in fear of insensitivity or rigidity, but that the refreshments, the renewed, the renewal, the awakened and revived. But to accept this water "welling up to eternal life" - if we use a well-known words uttered by Jesus in front of Jacob's well - we have a heart like a clay pot. Here, then, metaphorically, a word that is no longer used today, in fact, che è fin sbeffeggiato: l'umiltà o, se si vuole, la semplicità. Mi è rimasta sempre nella memoria la frase della preghiera di un autore spirituale che si leggeva ai miei tempi di seminarista, Léonce de Grandmaison (1868-1927): «Santa Maria, Madre di Dio, conservami un cuore di fanciullo, puro e limpido come acqua di sorgente». Un cuore dolce e umile, arduo da custodire con questa semplicità, ma l'unico capace di ospitare una parola eterna e liberatrice.

"L'umiltà è quella virtù per cui si va su, mentre si va giù" (Sant'Agostino )

Tratto da : Il mattutino di Gianfranco Ravasi

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Polenta Roast chicken Provencal

Ecco la mia rivisitazione di una tipica ricetta di mia mamma: l'originale prevede un cosciotto di agnello e panna da cucina mista alla senape. Io come carne ho adoperato il pollo [mi piace mille volte di più] e ho sostituito l'olio alla panna, che a mio avviso rende  il tutto un po' troppo pesante. La preparazione è velocissima ed il risultato è stato davvero ottimo!


Per 2 persone:

a Chicken by about 500 g (split into pieces)

3 or 4 sprigs of rosemary

3 cloves garlic

3 tablespoons spicy mustard (like Dijon)

4 potatoes

salt
white pepper

olive

finely chopped rosemary and garlic, stir in mustard and a teaspoon of salt. Spread the sauce evenly over chicken pieces. Then arrange them in a saucepan along with potatoes cut into chunks, seasoned with a generous round of oil and plenty of freshly ground pepper, bake in oven at 200 degrees for about half an hour. [If you think that everything is too dry, cover with aluminum foil or parchment paper, remembering to take it out 5 minutes before turning out.]

And since the weather is not a lot of trips outside to photograph the first blooms of the year, I refer you to look at the beautiful Liver , a small plant with purple flower that colors the undergrowth in this period.

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tampOnA_Menti


We know not to be present at all .. not just here ...


crawling like a worm to go back to being surrounded by a thick blanket placental
rather than stay here, naked and defenseless before all this,
senza_ (emo) tion slimy.
A show that is impossible ... appla_udire hands are tied.
There are only toxic foods in these umbilical cords that I stuck him and itchy. Tools
hiss and show, numbers and drawings and .... the interior, tremendously shown on a screen, intestines and stomachs bloated corroded mostly.
Powders impede normal flow of air, I have not
lungs swell, I have no nostrils
dilate.
only a vision of slavery,
I, you, we, you, and they
.... messi_sotto sotto_messi at once imperfect and distant past.
Combining the tense .... tra_passato and pre_ (AS) felt.

No one believes anymore.

senescent and are covered with mold and fetid in_ (E) vasi_ve now shriveled bodies of neurons,
not release juice, freshly squeezed oranges out of season ... nint'altro that peels.
cultivate fields (D) Education.
Everything is the same and unchanged, changes only in the eyes dell'illuso.


humiliated, the minimum
red pens sotto_lineano correct the error ... why me?
Who corrects you?
I plan to rustle
abban_dOno mono_tono a gray sunrise to sunset.
The sun of my empire and pale as a sheet, with deep shadows where
in_file rays are turned off. Consume
sonni_feri hoping to (re) new _sorGere, but
sco (I) intertangled warmth from pre-death. Dead
sun it makes another. I just want to become
d_iO
and upsets me in quest'in_termina_Bile hold.
SoS_ (S) pyro.
thrust its teeth forbidden apple surrounded by snakes, and
sguiatamente laugh with Eva on the ground throwing the seeds of this fruit.
drive away from here as well if you want,
hell is great ...
paradise on earth do not see any, well call it Eden, but only atomic dis_astri and tampona_menti, bitumen and oil tossi_Ci
black sticky.
angels with gum stuck to the sky as passa_tempo.




For me the only ...
is getting hurt ...

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La Primula

I realized that he never spoke of primroses ... well, today we start with the most common but no less beautiful or deserving of attention.

Primula vulgaris is a plant erbacea perenne appartenente alle Primulaceae. Come ben tutti sanno, è una delle prime a fiorire, dopo l’inverno, e i suoi bellissimi fiori gialli formano densi cespuglietti nel sottobosco e lungo i pendii ombrosi. E’ una specie piuttosto comune in tutta Italia ed è uso comune coltivare nei giardini e nei parchi suoi ibridi e sue varietà, dai fiori vistosi e colorati.

Sull’etimologia del nome non c’è molto da dire: va da sé che essendo una delle prime piante a fiorire il nome generico sia “Primula”, mentre “vulgaris” ci ricorda semplicemente che tra le Primule spontanee è ed è sempre stata la più comune.

Più curioso invece è un aneddoto secondo il quale Shakespeare nel suo “Racconto d’inverno” in una metafora recita “pallide primule che muoiono nubili”, metafora legata al fatto che all’epoca della loro fioritura gli insetti sono scarsi e quindi l’impollinazione per le Primule è più difficoltosa.

Another strange story comes to us from the nineteenth It is said that the lucky fact that he will hit a rock with a bunch of fairy primroses in front of him will open the door to their kingdom but only if it can guess the exact number of flowers with which to compose the bouquet. Should it fail, will be haunted by the unfortunate adverse events in life [... then I would say that is not worth much worth try ...]

Infine, questo semplice e delicato fiore è anche ricco di proprietà medicinali: può curare vertigini, nausea, palpitazioni ed emicrania e il “Vino di primula” favorirebbe una buona circolazione.

A questo punto vi lascio con un pane molto semplice ma gustoso e fragarante proprio come le nostre belle Primule, il pane di kamut . 

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kamut bread

Il pane preparato con la farina di kamut rimane molto gustoso, dal sapore leggermente speziato e dolce. In più, la pagnotta che vedete qua si è conservata benissimo per alcuni giorni, senza mai diventare troppo secca, o con gusto di stantio. Forse anche merito della mia eccellente preparazione ;P....vabbè, passiamo alla ricetta, che è meglio!

Ingredients:

300 g flour kamut

200 g of wheat flour 0

a glass of milk

15 g of yeast

salt

brown sugar

warm water [not boiling]

Sift the flour with a tablespoon of salt on table to knead and place in a fountain. Warmed milk without bringing to a boil, melt the yeast with 1 / 2 teaspoon of sugar and pour in the middle of the fountain. Start to mix the milk with the flour, add water gradually and knead to form a homogeneous, soft, still slightly sticky. Form two balls, flour well and arrange on a large pan and lined with parchment paper. Cover the two balls with at least two warm towels and let rise for about two hours.

After rising time, turn oven to 220 ° ventilation, bake bread, and after about 20 minutes down to 200 degrees. Cook for about 20 minutes, or until loaves are golden brown on the surface will not be.

Una volta sfornate, disponete le pagnotte su una griglia e lasciatele raffreddare.

[Come avrete potuto capire, le pagnotte erano due...qua ne vedete solo una perché l'altra, poverina, appena uscita dal forno è stata aggredita e a differenza di questa non si è affatto conservata per alcuni giorni!]


Vai a Primula vulgaris

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Linguine with shrimp and octopus

Questo piatto è has always been my forte: the preparation is not very complicated, it only takes a few small shrewdness and it is important to recognize the right point of cooking octopus.

For two people:

200 g linguine

350 g baby octopus

8 prawns or shrimp

200 g of clams in shell

300 g of mussel shell

½ onion 2 cloves garlic

1 tablespoon pine nuts

1 bunch of parsley

1 sprig of marjoram

1 sprig of thyme

1 sprig of rosemary

chili

extra virgin

dry white wine

First put the clams in a bowl covered with cold water for at least ½ hour [if they have sand in this way the issue].

Meanwhile, clean the mussels, sbarbatele and put in a pot on the fire so that they open. Once opened, keep a cup of liquid, peel and set aside. Repeat the same with clams: let them open, peel and set aside with the mussels, it is not necessary to take the cooking liquid.

now Clean octopus, cut the bag into thin strips and the tentacles into pieces. Rinse the shrimp and Privatel head.

Once prepared these ingredients, make a mixture with the onion, parsley and other herbs. Finely chop the garlic and set aside [only later to add to the mixture, so that it does not burn].

In a large pot saute the chopped onion and aromatic with plenty of oil for about 5 minutes, then add the pine nuts, garlic, a generous teaspoon of chilli and sauté on for a few moments.

A questo punto unite i moscardini, fateli rosolare a fuoco vivo per circa 5 minuti, poi sfumate con un bicchiere di vino bianco, abbassate il fuoco e lasciate cuocere per circa 20 minuti, mescolando di tanto in tanto e aggiungendo qualche cucchiaio di liquido di cottura delle cozze.

Trascorso questo tempo, unite le cozze, le vongole e i gamberi e fate cuocere per altri 10 minuti a fuoco basso.

Nel frattempo portate ad ebollizione l’acqua per la pasta e fate cuocere le linguine al dente. Scolatele e versatele nella pentola col sugo, fate saltare il tutto a fuoco vivace per qualche minuto ed ecco che la pasta è pronta.

E mi raccomando, niente pomodoro! avrebbe tutto un altro sapore...buono, senza dubbio, ma diverso.

E già che ci siamo vi rimando a dare un'occhiata ai bellissimi Crochi , che in questo periodo dell'anno iniziano a deliziarci tappezzando di viola e lilla i prati.

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Lord, I feel you ...

Lord, hear me? I suffer tremendously. Asseragliato in myself, a prisoner of myself. I do not feel that my voice,
I do not see that myself, and behind me there is only suffering. Lord, hear me?
Deliver me from my body, it's all lust, and everything it touches with its many large eyes,
with its thousands of outstretched hands, only to catch him and try to appease his insatiable hunger.
Lord, hear me? Deliver me from my heart all full of love,
but while I think I love madly, I glimpse myself angry that I still love the other.
Lord, hear me? "Deliver me from my spirit, full of himself, his ideas,
of its judgments, can not talk, because no other word except it affects her.

Alone, I'm bored, I hate, disgust me, and I turn in my filthy skin as the patient in his bed he would like to escape from burning. Everything seems ugly, monstrous, no light, ... because I can not see anything except through me.Mi feel prepared to hate men and the world, ... out of spite, not because I love them. I would like to go out, I
walk, run to another paese.So that there is joy, the radiance on the faces I saw.
I know there is light, I saw the light sguardi.Ma Lord, I can not get out,
with love and hate my prison, because I have my prison And I love you, Mi amo, o Signore, e mi faccio ribrezzo.
Signore, non trovo neppure più la porta di casa mia.
Mi trascino tastoni, accecato,
Urto nelle mie stesse pareti, nei miei propri limiti,
Mi ferisco.
Ho male, Ho troppo male, e nessuno lo sa, perchè nessuno è entrato in casa mia.
Sono solo, solo.
Signore, Signore, mi senti?
Signore, indicami la mia porta,
prendi la mia mano, Apri
Indicami la Via,
La via della GIOIA, della LUCE.
... Ma ...
Ma, o Signore, mi senti Tu?
Figliuolo, Io ti ho sentito.
Mi fai compassione.
Da tanto tempo spio le tue imposte chiuse, aprile,
la Mia luce ti rischiarerà.
Da tanto tempo Io sono davanti al tuo uscio sprangato, aprilo,
Mi troverai sulla soglia.
Io ti attendo, gli altri ti attendono,
Ma bisogna aprire,
Ma bisogna uscire da te.
Perchè rimanere prigioniero di te stesso?
Sei libero.
Non ho chiuso Io la tua porta,
Non posso riaprirla Io,
... perchè sei tu dall'interno a tenerla solidamente sprangata

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Life is difficult, but not serious

Per umiliare qualcuno si deve essere in due: colui che umilia, e colui che è
umiliato e soprattutto: che si lascia umiliare. Se manca il secondo, e cioè se
la parte passiva è immune da ogni umiliazione, questa evapora nell’aria.
Sopra quell’unico pezzo di strada che ci rimane c’è pur sempre il cielo,
tutto quanto.

Possono renderci la vita un po’ spiacevole, possono privarci di qualche bene
materiale o di un po’ di libertà di movimento, ma siamo noi stessi a privarci
delle nostre forze migliori con il nostro atteggiamento sbagliato: con il
nostro sentirci perseguitati, umiliati e oppressi, con il nostro odio e con la
millanteria che maschera paura. Certo ogni tanto si può esser tristi e
abbattuti per quel che ci fanno, è umano e comprensibile che sia così. E
tuttavia: siamo soprattutto noi stessi a derubarci da soli.
Trovo beautiful life, and I feel free. The heavens stretch to myself as
above me. I believe in God and in men, and dare I say it without false modesty.
The road is difficult, but not serious.
We take seriously our serious side, then the rest will be
himself, and "working self" is not just a form of individualism sickly.
a future peace can be only realized if the first has been found by
each in itself - where every man will be released next
hatred against of any race or people, where will this hatred overcome AVR
transformed into something else, perhaps to lunga in amore se non è chiedere
troppo. E’ l’unica soluzione possibile.
E così potrei continuare per pagine e pagine. Quel pezzetto d’eternità che ci
portiamo dentro può esser espresso in una parola come in dieci volumi.
Sono una persona felice e lodo questa vita, la lodo proprio, nell’anno del
Signore 1942, l’ennesimo anno di guerra.

(Etty Hillesum (Middelburg, 15 gennaio 1914 – Auschwitz, 30 novembre 1943) - Diario)

Per tutti i perseguitati, gli emarginati, gli immigrati...umiliati...
Quel pezzetto d’eternità che ci portiamo dentro nessuno può torgliercelo!

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Join me, Lord Jesus

Father of goodness, Father of love, I bless you and praise you because I thank you for the love you gave us Jesus Thank you, Father, because in the light of your Spirit we understand that He is the light, the truth, the Good Shepherd , who came so that we might have life and have it abundantly. Today, Father, I want to present before you as your son. You know me by name. Turn your eyes of a loving Father in my life. You know my heart and the wounds of my life.
You know everything that I wanted to do and I did not do, what I've done wrong and I did the others. You know my limits, my mistakes and my sin.
Learn about the trauma and the complex of my life. Today, Father, I ask you, for the love of your son Jesus Christ, to pour upon me thy Holy Spirit, because the warmth of your saving love getting into the very depths of my heart. You who sound the brokenhearted and bind up the wounds, heal my soul here and now, my mind, my memory and my whole soul.
Join me, Lord Jesus, as you joined in that house, where were your disciples fearful. You appear in their midst and said: "Peace be with you." Enter my heart and give me peace, fill me with love. We know that love casts out fear. Jump in my life and heal my heart. We know, Lord Jesus, you do it forever, when you ask it, and I'm asking Mary, our Mother, who was at the wedding at Cana when there was no wine, and you answered his wish by changing water into wine. Change my heart and give me a generous heart, a heart friendly, full of goodness, a new heart. Fa 'tick in me the fruits of your presence. Give me the fruits of your spirit which are love, peace and joy. That falls on me the spirit of the beatitudes, so she can enjoy and seek God every day, living without complexes and traumas together with others, to my family, my brothers. I thank you, Father, for what they're doing now in my life. I thank you with all your heart, because I heal, because it set me free, why break my chains and give me freedom. Thank you, Lord Jesus, because they are the temple of your Spirit and you can not destroy this temple, because it is the house of God I thank you, Holy Spirit, for faith, for the love you put into my heart. How great you are, Lord, One and Triune God! May You be blessed and praised, O Lord! AMEN.

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Muffin plum and apple scented with mandarin .....

.....e un rimando alla meravigliosa Camelia , one of the most beautiful and elegant shrubs that accompany us with their flowers during the winter.

Dry ingredients:

400 g of flour

200 g of sugar cane

1 tablespoon baking

Liquid Ingredients:

2 eggs

100 g of butter

150 ml of milk

juice of 3 tangerines

And:

2 apples

Peel apples and cut into cubes and quite small. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 160 degrees.

In a bowl sift the flour, add sugar and yeast and blend well.

Melt the butter in a double boiler with half the milk and let cool. Besides, beat the eggs, add the tangerine juice and remaining milk. Once the butter is at room temperature, add it to the previous ingredienti.

A questo punto versate tutto di un colpo la miscela di farina, zucchero e lievito e mescolate velocemente per amalgamare il tutto, ma senza esagerare. Per ultimo, aggiungete le mele e date un’ultima rimescolata al composto. Versatelo a cucchiaiate in stampini per muffin, cospargete di zucchero di canna e infornate a 160° per mezz’ora circa, o comunque fino a che non saranno ben dorati in superficie.

to me they have advanced a lot, so we ran a plum.

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EatYourHeart Out ... ....

corridors filled door ajar or closed to open ....

you know that the best thing would get out of this fucking decadent palace.

"Get this fucking building."

Instead you create something morbid slow and silent,

drives me up the stairs and look out into new corridors,

always darkest,

increasingly bare, crumbling plaster and

shadows.

While lunging feel a lot of hands trying to hold on to me, ask me how

continue, what to do and what not to do, how to behave, which pronounce sentence. How

encyclopedia sensitivity listen and counsel.

"You know? I would like to tell you how much anger I feel inside.

What I find terribly wrong ... everything is too unfair.

so unfair as to be unbearable and overwhelming. "

What remains?

the unlimited world of the mind, where everything is malleable in terms of desires more or less real. You can go back and change at will things, a

,

ten

percent

thousand times,

up to get the perfect situation.

jump here and there with the thoughts, dialogue with me, you, the furniture, ornaments and the deaf, those that even if you shout, well ... .. you can not hear.

I can not stop quest'implacabile cascade of words, I could go on indefinitely, perhaps the only great passion of mine is writing.

My cage encloses a soul heavy.

It 's a jungle of tangled synapses, I try to move clinging to afferent fibers and efferent almost like lianas, and then fall into the gray swamp and be enveloped in the quicksand of my thoughts vicious.

attract.

repress large waves of anger and hatred.

balance that I hate showing off all those faces smiling at nothing, unaware and ignorant for the most of everything that surrounds them.

when you stop taking with me, I take it with people.

E 'sole black hardcore.

iO and Alice are back.

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leek gratin Bruschetta

This recipe I have been strongly advised by a nice ladies Lillaz manager of a hotel in Valle d'Aosta. In reality instead of fontina suggested I put some slices of whole smoked. Not having the smoked cheese I used fontina, ma erano buonissime comunque!

Ingredienti:

Pane casereccio a fette

Porri

Fontina

Pinoli

Olio extravergine

Salt and pepper [or instead of the chili pepper, according to taste]

I did not put the doses because I've made eye [is approximately 1 / 2 small leek in person].

Slice the leeks into thin rounds about 1 cm thick, fry in a large frying pan or, even better in a wok for about 20 minutes, adding a dash of water from time to time and salting almost after cooking.

Arrange the slices of bread on a baking tray lined with baking paper, put a spoonful on each slice of leek and a handful of diced fontina. Sprinkle with a generous sprinkling of pepper, add some pine nuts and fontina grill until the past to not be dissolved, and crusty bread.

As a close relative of the leek and garlic, I refer you to look Allium triquetrum to , a kind of wild garlic very fine fragrant.

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Narcissus pucks

Introducing the pucks Daffodil (Narcissus pucks), a beautiful Amaryllidacea beginning to bloom with the first sunny days of the year. [The photos you see were taken on 21 January 2010]

E 'spontaneous rather rare species, grows all over Italy, especially the hilly hardwood forest edges, and is also widely cultivated.

Come potrete ben immaginare, il nome della specie deriva dalla forma del tubo corollino, che ha questa particolare forma molto simile ad una tazzina.

Molti di voi conosceranno il mito di Narciso. Ovidio narra di Narciso, filgio della ninfa Liriope: egli era un giovane bellissimo ed adorato da tutti, a tal punto che egli stesso finì con l’innamorarsi della sua immagine riflessa in uno specchio d’acqua, respingendo e maltrattando ogni altro essere al mondo. Gli dei, non molto contenti di questo suo atteggiamento spocchioso ed altero, decisero di punirlo facendo sì che egli si struggesse per questo “auto-innamoramento” al punto di morire annegato nello specchio d’acqua. On the shores of this would have been born then a beautiful flower with a corolla yellow surrounded by white petals.

But there is also an alternate version of this myth. According to Pausanias in fact, Narkissos, the personification of Silence, was caccaitore and carrier of the primary condition of the dead. From here follows the ancient funeral ritual of weaving greek narcissus flowers on the graves to be put in tiaras.

In China, however, the Narcissus is a symbol of happiness, prosperity and the Sun, attributes a bit 'more cheerful and lively than those conferred by Pausanias and Ovid.

And now I leave you with a recipe winter, perfect for the period in which these beautiful flower Narcissus, the pastry with walnuts .