There is a film that I carry in my heart, Babette's Feast. An excellent film, with a great interpreter. Everything leads to a sentence: an artist is never poor.
I always liked playing with food, conviviality, but did not binge in the end, is the quality that counts. I love the motto: if you can not sit at the table does not know how to live.
I was invited to dinner at a news Babette, proud and conscious of his art.
I was not ever see me in front of a seafood fondue, and the surprise was very pleasant. Fluently and spontaneously I saw the table, dressed in a beautiful Pompeian red tablecloth with flowers spread, gradually filled up with bowls of delicious sauces, curry I adore the mayonnaise with herbs, ginger and yogurt, and other still too complicated for me to remember why spumantino already dry, taken as an aperitif, I wrapped in gorgeous worlds and images with soft edges, while Babette was moving quietly and safe , and his eyes were lit stoves that warmed all that watched. Then there are two large trays filled with various kinds of fish, cut into small pieces and laid on lettuce leaves ready to be skewered and dipped in a pot of boiling oil at the center table.
How wonderful suspend time in a conversation polythematic made of everything that comes to mind between a flavor and more. There is room for all for hidden shadows, and a look darkened momentarily and then return to light: Babette is not an ordinary person.
phrases interwoven with salad of fennel, cumin seeds and red radicina. And the wine? Perfect, finally a non-fruity white that creeps elegant and discreet on the palate and blends with the delicate flavor of the fish.
I was already gloating and happy, sweetly disposed towards the world when it comes to the artist's touch of genius, with his imagination in creative combinations and appeared in another small table top stove with a bowl of melted chocolate in and dip slices of orange. From faint! But even more superlative Barolo is the marriage with a "bowed" unknown to me. I come out and won in strength, lighter in body and soul, entranced, sweetened, intoxicated. Just like the diners in Babette's Feast. Meanwhile, marginal, emerges in me a thought on anorexia and the ugly abyss in which the collapse adolescents, frigid priestesses of denial of an icy body, which have to control because they did not fit.
Babette is the opposite, soft and round dancing moves with his hips Latin, and ancient wisdom flowing from his lips when he speaks.
The style is the icing on the cake is the cake.
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