I opened the kitchen door. Titian had a large pan of dough in hand. It 'started well tonight.
The room was overcrowded. Eighty, maybe a hundred people from all over the world, all gathered in one room. All in one kitchen.
seems strange. Yes, think about it, everyone has made thousands of miles, they came from everywhere, and finally, at the end of their journey, they find themselves in a kitchen. The terminus of their routes, the goal of each of them, a sacred place, connected to the most basic needs.
And now the kitchen is raised to the nth degree, is exploded in several dimensions, embracing the infinite planes, from a family gathering place daily crossroads of cultures and countries, people and stories of distant, almost becoming a caricature of kitchen itself.
E 'Thus begins the' international dinner, an evening full of lights and colors, different accents and faces, smiling faces and fun, bored faces, staring faces, faces drunk. Each with its own cultural Baggage, each with its most precious thing: their own food.
Now imagine a large table full of colors in each country, full of fruit and exotic spices, oriental food and western dishes. And you do not need to do is reach out to step into a culture, within the tradition of a place far away, unattainable, that only at that moment, in a totally unique, and essentially becomes virtually possible.
Now I have my belly too full to talk about other things, to tell you that I met so many people, I've heard stories absurd that the kitchen was on fire, there were cookies on the table that terrible in the dough was put salt instead of sugar and challenged you to eat them, that the German beer mixed with sprite, and that many The first night here, they cry.
I hope to meet again the people I met tonight. If so, I will tell you. As always, that you care or not.
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