Cultural exchange - Part 2

So the following week he returned the favour and I met him at his place for lunch.
It was supposes to be an English lunch but “since you do not like sandwiches” he said (sandwiches are THE English lunch par excellence), he prepared a Mexican dish, called Vegetable curry with dark chocolate and chillies. They way he cooked the dish would frighten and terrify every single Italian even the one who has no idea how to even boil an egg. He sautéed garlic and onion with sunflower oil, cooked first the aubergines added ingredients following what seemed a quite random order, added a lot of chilli, stirred once the boiling rice (it cooked for at least 20 minutes), added the dark chocolate at the end as a final touch. The vegetable were served with insipid rice (there were enough spices and flavours in the curry), a spoonful of plain yoghurt and boiled green beans (I think he added them only to give colour to the dish).
You know what?? It was good. I did like it. I really did.
To my surprise the chocolate and chilli were well balanced and the combination of flavours&spices was unusual but very interesting.
He did not believe me when I told him I liked what he prepared.
I was expecting a dish based on the “mighty spud” (= potato) or parsnips, celeriac, butternut squash. Or some of those fampus pies, fish&chips would have been a good choice. I had instead something Mexican described with an Indian word (curry), accompanied by a glass of milk (as you would do in a good old British way).
Somehow it was a British lunch: Isnt Great Britain is a mix of cultures and flavours coming form every corner of the world?

After lunch I had a taste of real English essence: a cup of tea with milk and no sugar.
He spent some time describing how the tea can vary its taste according to type of tea used, brewing time and quantity of boiled water taken into consideration. Even the quantity of milk poured in the cup plays a part in determining the final taste of the tea. He also said that the colour of the cup influences how you perceive the taste of the tea (according to him blue isn’t at all a good colour).
I had a first sip and openly declared that I didn’t like it (I didn’t go around it, without sugar that tea had a indescribable taste.. the thought of it brings up a wince on my face).
He accepted it without losing his composure –very British!- and started philosophising while holding the cup of tea talking about that feeling of warmth and relaxation that is sooo comfortable and sooo pleasant. He believes that that is exactly what makes a cup of tea such a must in the life of every British man or woman: it is about reassurance that comes in the gesture of holding a warm, cuddling cup of tea.“More or less like a hot water bottle!” I said. I very much doubt he appreciated my comment. With few words I wiped away all the poetry he used to describe such undeniable British tradition. Sorry! ;-P

Cultural exchange - Part 1

I do not remember well why we decided to do it.. Interest in each others’ cultures? Curiosity? I believe so, they sound good enough reasons to me.
We first met at mine for a cooking lesson on the proper Italian tomato sauce. He had a terrible cold mixed with some unexpected coughing. He refused a pack of tissues, kitchen paper suited his nose best.
I started preparing the ingredients (celery, onion and carrot very finely chopped) when he innocently asked “Don’t you put some garlic with it?” “No darling, onion and garlic they never go together” “But I always do it” “Because you are English!”. He did not comment further.
He is very observant and checked, tasted and looked at most of the things I was doing (he spent the rest of the time blowing his nose). At some point he said “Mmm.. that’s true then what they say..” “About what?” I asked him. “That Italians are very meticulous about their food. That it is a real stereotype then”. I was ready to go off on a discussion about the fact that of course we are meticulous and even pedantic if the word pleases him, but that is the least you can do if you want good tasty food. You need time and care and attention. We are talking about Italian food and not quick, micro waved, processed English meals which comes in a frozen or tinned form.
I limited myself to a plain answer like “Of course, this is Italian food” and put a smile after that. (After five years in the UK I have very well learned how to address my temper towards more approachable and still explanatory manners. Sometimes I still cannot credit myself for such a change).Anyways the lunch went well and although he was “not that hungry” he ate all the pasta, finished off some feta&roasted pepper dip that I had prepared for the previous evening, he had an apple and a slice of lemon cake.

And again..

A text message. A sour pill that whether I like it or not, I have to swallow down. A couple of hours later that pill is still half way, it feels like it is stuck in my throat, I am not strong enough to push it down. Not today.
A word. “but”. Probably the word I hate the most. It always implies something, it always carries decisions or statements. Most of the times I disagree with them.
I heard or read it too many times, I am tired of it.

I needed to get out of my room. “You know you cannot stay in here.. This room will never be able to contain all your thoughts”. It is raining out there, I don’t care. I walked for an hour and a half, holding a broken umbrella, following nothing but my feet. There was no destination to reach. Funny enough my feet took me to Southpark. There was no one. Who would ever walk in a park under the rain on a Sunday morning? Out of the traffic and it unpleasant sounds, the rain drummed on my umbrella with more insistence. I was getting wetter and wetter. Who cares about it.
I kept on walking, hoping to find an answer to my questions. I did not find it. I suppose I already know that answer, it is that pill I cannot imbide completely.
Up the hill, there was a big top. The circus is here. No music was coming from it, you could only hear voices talking to each other, they were getting ready for the afternoon show.

Is life just a big circus? Right now I would reply : “Yes it is”. It makes you laugh, it makes you cry, it teases you, it surprises you, it startles you, it stuns you and it confuses you. And at the end of the show, it will leave you alone.
I want this day to be over as soon as possible. I know I will smoke more than the usual today.