So i left, in the end. There are things I know I’ll miss enormously, but for now, the obvious thing I do miss is … guess what? And now well, also Melissa, she gets in a new home and she bakes, and wow! thank you, I know, nothing like the smell of apple pie makes you feel at home, or if you really are Italian, smell of lasagne in the oven, or at most pastiera, but what if you have no oven? If you barely have a kitchen?

Now I don’t want to sound resentfull with our present accomodation.We are staying in a lovely house in the wood, and people have been way too nice, making every effort to help us even if we don’t shamefully speak a single world of German; and I already feel sort of at home. After coming from the UK, a trip to a supermarket is almost like being home in Northern Italy. Six brands of pasta, three of which that will actually retain their shape once cooked, and more formats you can reasonably stock in your cupboard (not that I am not trying to). Tomato sauce containing more than 5% real  tomato pulp. And cheese, oh, don’t get me started on real cheese!

Of course it’s not that there is no nice food in the UK, it is just that the average food is not average at all, it is shameful. If you want something nice, you’ll find the highest quality ingredients, but you’ll have to chase them one by one, and explain your butcher how you want him to cut your meat.

While here, just going random, you can have decent food. And I have not started exploring german food yet- completely unknown territory. It looks quite exciting, all cheeses and bread and smoked meats. And the beer, oh my. I just adore weissbier. And in the supermarket yesterday I found some seriously good spinach – ages since I had such nice ones.

But for the moment – here I am, confined in a 1 meter x 0.5 meter  kitchen including appliances, with no chopping space, no oven (!!), no microwave, and two electrical fires I still have to master (after four days I managed to understand which is which, but I still don’t understand how to regulate temperature properly). I do have my pressure cooker for moral and practical support though. We are also watching our caloric intake as usual, so I can’t deep fry everything to get flavour (oh oven where are thou?).  And on top of that, the small(ish) (ehm.. my parter won’t agree on the word choice, but you know what I mean) selection of spices I have brought with me are packed in a plastic bag and are a MESS! I can use them only by chasing half an hour in advance what I am going to need, and this is no way to go with spices, carried as they should be by inspiration.

Nice challenge, uh?


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