The first step, was trying to understand Flavia's recipe-tionist rules.
Once I got it, I went to surf Cristiana's blog.
I've been surfing for hours.
I was looking for a recipe that was possible to make with the ingredients found here and that I could interpretate in kosher way, changing only one ingredient.
I was going to throw the towel when I ended up here.
The far. A french recipe.
Intrigued by the use of fresh plums instead of dried, I continued reading.
I have to say that I am not a romantic person and I barely and rarely feel moved, but while I was reading, I saw my own grandmother.
I've found her light blue eyes, her tiny body moving in a small kitchen, her skills in the kitchen. Everything seemed easy looking at her.
I remembered her anger, "like a tiger" as Cristiana writes, when my sister Sarah died, so prematurely. The only difference is that my grandmother could not go on, she died of sorrow, two months later.
Unfortunately, she didn't left us a recipes notebook, she cooked by heart, I was only sixteen when she past away, not interested yet to learn about the kitchen mysteries.
When I was measuring the milk for the far, I suddenly remembered the noise.
I could still hear the scrape of it. The long sound. Metal on metal.
Shrill like a scream, piercing the morning chill, and my dreams. Its sharp persistence disallowing silence and sleep. My grandmother emptying the porridge pot in the kitchen, cleaning carefully, edge to curved edge, with a spoon. The rule was: no waste.
I remembered the sullen complaints: my elder sister burrowing her head under the pillow and I pulling the covers over mine, in vain.
Every morning. My grandmother prepared porridge every morning, so we did not need an alarm clock in school time.
I have to admit now that all of a sudden, I miss that gray, gloopy mess.
But Cristiana's grandmother's far is much better:
Fresh Plums Far
300 g fresh plums
200 g flour
150 g sugar
4 eggs
500 ml milk
1 tablespoon Armagnac
100 g butter
pinch of salt
Wash plums, cut in half and take out the bones.
Warm the milk with the butter, until butter is melted. Allow to cool.
In a bowl, mix flour, sugar and salt. Add eggs and let the flour absorbing the eggs.
Add the milk, working with an hand whisk in order to have a mix like the crêpes mix. Add the Armagnac. Set aside, for one hour.
Preheat oven at 180°.
Grease a 22 cm tick border tin and put the prunes on the bottom.
Cover with the dough and cook 45 minutes.
Serve cool.
Micol, you and Cristiana, made me cry...I mean it is not easy to think how many important people we lost..and even how we lost them. Thank you for this post, for this recipe, that gets a different meaning to me from now... xoxoxoxoox have a great day, even if I know all of you finished tha plums far in few minutes... you have to make it again as soon as possible!! Grazie Flavia
ReplyDeleteJe pleure aussi. Parce que je ne savais pas ce que tu racontes. Parce que, pour un moment, j'ai pu vous imaginer et me rendre compte que j'ai le même geste de ma mère, quand quelque chose m’empêche dormir.
ReplyDeleteLa recette de ce porridge, oui exactement de celui là, je l'ai. Dés que tu arrives cet après midi, je te la donne.
Ti scrivo in italiano, purtroppo sono ignorante e non sarei in grado di esprimerti quello che provo leggendo il tuo post in un'altra lingua che non sia la mia. A dirla tutta anche con la mia ho qualche difficoltà Mi ha reso felice il fatto che tu sia passata, mi ha reso felice che tu abbia scelto proprio questa ricetta e mi ha reso felice sentire come parli di tua nonna. Da bambina quando mi chiedevano cosa avrei voluto fare da grande rispondevo: la mamma. Se me lo chiedessero ora risponderei: la nonna. Sento una mancanza profonda dei nonni che non ci sono più. Grazie mille: è stato bello leggerti.
ReplyDelete