Cherry Sangria

Farewell, non pensarci e perdonami
se ti ho portato via un poco d'estate
con qualcosa di fragile come le storie passate...

Farewell, don't think about it and forgive me
if I took away from you a little bit of summer
with something as fragile as past love stories...
Francesco Guccini, Farewell

We had fallen in love in front of bottomless sangria amidst the warm scent of a June evening, blinded by a perfect moon, shiny and round, sad but without melancholy. It was a bet made for fun, a walk at sunset, and the innocent music of a dinner improvised on the floor.
Now I don't know anymore, if it was really happiness, that thing shining at the bottom of the glass. If it was an illusion, I loved it anyways, because it was sweet and intoxicating, a fragile dream that charmed us with its red cherry aroma and the cozy tenderness of a meadow in spring.
Time has cheated us, dragging away our own reality as a soap bubble in the middle of a storm. Still, the languid flavor of memories remains, as well as this glass of sweetness that dazzles and confuses me, just like then.

Cherry Sangria*
for 6 people

red wine 1 bottle
freshly squeezed orange juice 1 glass
cinnamon 2 sticks
brandy 100 ml
Grand Marnier 40 ml
Cointreau 40 ml
agave syrup 3-4 tablespoons
cherries as needed

Pink Juice (Rhubarb, Carrots and Beets)

I believe in pink.
~ Audrey Hepburn

If I were asked to color the world, I'd have no doubt, I'd paint it pink. Maybe with some shades of red, which - let's face it - never hurts, in my opinion. But then green light to strokes of pink, in all its possible shades, from lilac to magenta, through fuchsia, purple and plum.
I'm not talking about the color of the cheesy and impossibly romantic tales of my unhealthy youth, because if it were up to me I'd give Cinderella, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty a nice pair of flat and comfortable shoes and a motorized convertible pumpkin to drive around the world by themselves, without waiting to be awakened by Prince Charming, rather by a double cappuccino with brioche as an option.
Instead, I'm talking about the pink of the strawberries when they turn into jam, of cherry trees when they blossom on the side of the road, and the unbeatable pink of the sunset during some evenings up in the mountains; pink, like the scent of freshly baked bread; like the Gazzetta newspaper when Italy is playing; like a slice of cold watermelon consumed on the streets under the August stars.



Because if you close your eyes and imagine the world as such, if you close your eyes but open your heart, if you focus on listening to the sound of the breath or that of the wind, forgetting the fears, the judgments, the things to buy, the rush, the time, the hours and tonight's dinner, then you realize that it's you who paint the world, and happiness is inside your head, just behind the madness at the end of the thoughts; and the room for your suffering and for the loneliness of those long afternoons in November becomes immediately smaller; goodbyes are not goodbyes but curves of a moving path, and every day, if you want it, is made to be like cotton candy, red like Heidi's cheeks, or yellow and green like daisies in the meadow, comfortable and perfect as an upside-down octagon.



I don't believe in Prince Charming (have you ever seen him in a fairy tale kissing a frog?), but I have confidence in the color of daily life, in fantasy mixed with reality, and in an oasis full of flowers in a garden behind your house. More effective and more feasible, just like a purple wig to wear on an ordinary day, a lady elephant that runs away from the circus, or a ride on a Vespa under the snow in December.
But now please excuse me, I got thirsty.




Pink Juice
with rhubarb, carrots and beet
for 2

rhubarb 3-4 stalks
red beet 1
carrots 3-4
green apple 1
lime 1
fresh ginger 1 small piece

Wash fruits and vegetables and peel the beets. Cut into pieces and juice. Add a small piece of ginger to taste. At the end, stir in lime juice and mix. Serve cold.

Strawberry Agua Fresca

people
their eyes
the scent of the sea
I need flowers and grass
wheat, sun.
sugar and strawberries
moon, wind, letters and colors.
I need ideas
words
the sound of a smile,
to share a night
or paint the winter,
I need brotherly love
wine, milk, and salt.
I feel it bursting from inside
this desire, a mirage of life
it suffocates me, it quenches
it burns
it consoles
~ Anonymous to the wall, Strawberries in Winter




Strawberry Agua Fresca
for 4 people

strawberries, net 600 gr
water 750 ml ca.
lime 2
sugar 3/4 tablespoons

Wash strawberries, remove their stalk and blend well until they are reduced to a puree. Pass through a sieve with fine meshes and discard seeds. Add water, lime juice and sugar, and mix well until the sugar is completely dissolved. If you want, add a few leaves of fresh mint or basil. Serve the drink cold, preferably in the middle of a sunny day.

Bye Bye Winter

Oh dear tangerine juice, why have I never thought of you before? Oh well, it'll be for next season. On my end, with this toast I officialy declare the end of winter.

Grappa with Cumin Seeds

Sometimes the city plays tricks on you. Suddenly one night you look up to the sky and you realize that somebody stole all the stars. And the trees, the mountain trails, the scent of the grass. The green meadows are no longer there, nor are all the colors of the fall. Somebody stole the rocks, the smoking chimneys and the sound of the bells. And what happened to the casual encounters in the piazzas, to the lazy Sundays and the espresso after lunch? Somebody even stole sunsets, fresh spring water and silence.
An abstemious thief, though. He left me the grappa. So let's have a drink.

In case you're in doubt, Cjariei is the dialect term for Grappa with cumin seeds, or mountain fennel seeds. They say it has great digestive and therapeutic effects. At the second glass it'll wash away homesickness and it'll offer you in exchange visions of pink sunsets in the Dolomites.

I tuoi pensieri un po' ubriachi, danzando per le strade si allontanano,
ti son sfuggiti dalla mano e il giorno sembra ormai così lontano
e il giorno sembra ormai così lontano...

[Your thoughts, slightly drunk, are dancing on the street and going away, they slipped out of your hand and the day seems already so far away, the day seems already so far away...]
(Francesco Guccini, Night Song)


Cjariei
(Grappa with Cumin Seeds)

grappa at 40 degrees one 350ml-bottle
cumin seeds 25 gr.
sugar 70 gr.
water

Mix grappa with cumin seeds, close the vase or the bottle with the lid and let macerate for at least one month, stirring every once in a while.
After this time, dissolve sugar in a little bit of water, obtaining a sort of syrup. Add it to the grappa, and let it rest for another month. Again, remember to stir the mixture every once in a while.
Filter the grappa and pour it back in the bottle

Watermelon Agua Fresca

...aka take away summer.
Watermelon is one of those things that always gave me the idea of summer, more than coconut, ice cream and flip flops. Even when I was living in Cortina, where summer is short and definitely not very hot, when I found a big watermelon in the fridge, sometimes even already cleaned and cut in pieces, I could almost hear the sound of the sea, and I would instantly find myself lying on a beach with skin covered with oily Coppertone!

To tell you the truth, I have to spell out something here. It's my brother - who's always been very picky on these things - who would go to the trouble of cleaning, peeling and cutting in pieces large watermelons, so that he would find them in the fridge all nice and ready to bite. And this to his own disadvantage, because after he did all the work, his sisters, cousins and friends would rush eating it and would not leave much behind for him....
In San Francisco, ocean currents and constant fog leave very little space to imagination: I dare you to go to Ocean Beach in a swimming suit, even though - who knows why - my friends in Italy think that I live on the sea : )
And yet, even here during those days in July when the wind is so strong, a nice and ripe watermelon makes me think of a Mediterranean summer, a tanned skin and the sound of light waves.

Agua fresca is a nice and quick way to have summer always at hand, or rather in a glass....(yeah, try taking a watermelon with you all the time, it's not that easy...), even if calling it a recipe is a little too much.
I found out about this drink while walking around the Mission, it seems like it is very popular in Mexico and Central America. You can also make it with papaya, cantaloupe or strawberries. And it will last for few days in the refrigerator, unlike Kristian's watermelon, which always disappeared in a flash!


Watermelon Agua Fresca
for approximately 1 liter

ripe watermelon, peeled and cut in cubes 500-600 gr.
water 1/2 liter
sugar 1-2 tablespoons
lime juice 2-3 tablespoons
mint leaves for garnish

Mix watermelon, sugar and lime juice and blend them until you get a smooth juice. Add water and strain through a fine sieve. Let it cool in the fridge for at least one hour before serving. Pour over a glass filled with ice and garnish with some fresh mint sprigs.