About

My name is Sara, I was born one morning in July of an unspecified number of years ago (let's say after man's landing on the moon and before John Travolta in a cream tuxedo showed the world the excitement of Brooklyn's night clubs), I grew up amidst the beautiful mountains of Cortina, and I've recently transplanted in California, San Francisco, just for fun, or for real.
As a child, depending on the day, the temperature and the mood, I wanted to be a knitter, a teacher, a nun (!!), a dancer (imitating my sister who was imitating Heather Parisi*), a puppeteer. As an adult, instead, I have yet to figure it out.
When you don't find me at farmers' markets, or stirring yet another jam, or else photographing an artichoke, I may be running in Golden Gate Park, at the movies for the latest Woody Allen film, or in warrior pose.
Below I've compiled a list of some of the things I like. A random list. For those of you who are curious to know me better, and for myself as well. Ready? Go!

Running 26.2, once more, once a year. Coffee, fresh water and Tartine's almond croissant, even if that was a long time ago. Designer jeans, leather jackets and cowboy boots. No, I am really crazy for cowboy boots. And even for black stretchy pants. Yoga, a cat named Charlie Scooter, Woody Allen and the Cohen Brothers. Independent movies and the occasional Hollywood hit. Almodovar, Javier Bardem, Jim Jarmusch and Mark Zuckerberg. Kitchen tools, photos by Katie Quinn Davies and Chris Court, recipe books, all home-made fermented stuff, Radio Deejay and wine, red wine. Running, alone, loud music and sometime tears. My Cortina in the Alps, Venice any time of the year, and Florence. And Paris. Falling snow, pink sunsets in the Dolomites, happy hour spritz (Aperol with olive for me, thanks). The quest for the perfect pizza dough. Homemade potato gnocchi. Summer, the beach, focaccia wrapped in day old newspaper, Saffo and the Greek lyrics. Niccolò Ammaniti, Calvin & Hobbes, my iPhone Android and everything Apple. Billie Jean, old family video recordings, Bono Vox. High heel shoes, but on other women. Fashion magazines and thrift stores. San Francisco. The Mission. Freshly baked bread and cinnamon rolls, which would be perfect if only they were vegan. Spending Saturday afternoon in a non-virtual bookstore, and walking on empty streets on Christmas Day. Sea salt, strawberries and miso soup. Fireplaces, farmers markets, black and white photography. Vintage furniture and real wood. Mismatched dinnerware. The smell of freshly cut green grass, a very sexy side craw pose, a man wearing a t-shirt and a yoga instructor with naked chest, oversized sunglasses, Burning Man, John Lennon and cable knitted hats. Pink. And black. Francesco Guccini. Tattoos, but not all of them, Spanish accent, wedding dresses bought on ebay, and Central Park. The Soccer World Cup, Roberto Baggio and Photoshop. Jerry Seinfeld, Dave Matthews and Marcello Mastroianni. Cappuccino, the real one, with soy milk and in a ceramic cup. Shavasana. Falling in love, with things, places and people. Crossing the path of strangers who smile you on the street. Learning to forgive myself. And most unfortunately, Louis Vuitton.


*Heather Parisi is a fairly well known show-girl, extremely popular on Italian TV during the 80s.