Amelia dreaming: Almond granita and crunchy zucchini flowers

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I have been away for a while but I have a good excuse. I turned (eek!) 40 a couple of days ago and the viking organized a week long – indian wedding style – celebration to mark the milestone.

A surprise party on Wednesday was followed by a great dinner at one of the cosiest Japanese restaurants in Geneva, where he announced that we are going to Japan next year (heart, please, be still). The week-end we travelled to Annecy where we ate at the restaurant of Laurent Petit, a French chef awarded  two stars by the frightening Michelin Star Guide, who only cooks with local vegetables, herbs and fish; no meat.

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Autumn longing + roasted tomatoes soup with homemade bread

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The week-ends are made for cooking. At least in this household. It does not matter that in our apartment I feel, at times, like a hard boiled egg placed in a microwave; I shall roast, bake and fry the hell out of this summer anyway.

It’s only July but I am starting to long the chill of September.

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Il sapore dell’umami & Cold udon salad with caramelized tuna

English recipe below

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Ma come si fa a non amare un paese che ha inventato Lupin? Solo il genio di Miyazaki avrebbe potuto mettere insieme personaggi come Ji Ghen, Goemon e Fugiko.

Arsenio Lupin è stato il mio primo amore di bambina. Un amore allampanato come lui, con le sue sigarette storte e le sue sfortune sentimentali. Non so se sia stato il mio prematuro invaghirsi oppure la quantità spropositata di ramen ingurgitati dall’Ispettore Zenigata, ma io del Giappone mi sono innamorata quasi istantaneamente.

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FOMD and octopus alla Luciana

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If one day I am ever confronted with any sort of apocalyptic scenario and need to pick a small gang to bring to an island, D2 would be definitely on my list. Aside from being one of my best friends, the choice would also have critical survival implications since he’s much taller than the viking and I.

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Pane, burro e marmellata (lavender apricot jam with edible flowers)

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English below

All’approcciarsi del mese di agosto, quello che in inverno viene convenientemente lasciato il un cassetto a fare la muffa al pensiero di ‘Ma si, tanto c’è tempo‘, ritorna a prendere posto sul suo trono estivale, come un incubo che ti si siede sulla schiena mentre tu tenti di prendere sonno. Ed è proprio mentre ti rigiri tra le lenzuola, tra le undici e mezza e mezzanotte, che un pensiero ardito prende forma e, il desiderio di condivisione è cosi’ forte che decidi di svegliare il vikingo che ti respira beato accanto con un: “Ora basta! Domani mattina mi sveglio alle sei per fare sport.

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Home alone and insalata di fagiolini

 

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I am home alone. The viking travelled back to Norway to celebrate the wedding of a friend (Hurra Knut!). Tonight, the wind gently peaks from the open windows and the heat feels more like a reassuring hug rather than a ‘you shall faint now‘ arm choke.

I have been walking around the whole day and, after a couple of phone calls with friends I opened a bottle of cold Aligoté and started reading The Underground Railroad on my kindle. I could not focus on the book so I decided to water the plants.

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