Winter holidays are made for food, as the bacchanal tradition requires. Today I cooked duck breast in sherry sauce and pecorino. I baked the duck breast on olive oil and butter, 4 minutes per side. After that, I took them out the pan, and kept them warm, baked some onion on the sauce, and after the onion was ready, added some sherry and pecorino, together with the breast again, and served with some potatoes with rosemaries and a fresh salad. The wine was a Barolo of 2003.
Nobody ate, except me. I don't know why and I don't want to understand. Yesterday, in spite of my ferocious opposition, somebody took some McDonald's food in. Every single fries was eaten, all the green mayonnaise was slurped, all the hamburgers disappeared in no times. I feel like a stranger here. Nobody notices the ghost of Pepe Carvalho possessing my body, with all his melancholy and lust for life. Pork, lamb, horse meat, octopus, trippa, frattaglie e rognone are denied from my kitchen.
4 comments:
Barbarians!
Globalists, capitalists and consumers!
I don't understand either. How? Did they refuse to eat duck breast? A, I think I know - some people feel pity to some of the animals to be eaten. I knew some who refused to eat rabitt or horse. That might be the reason. Still they could please a host.
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