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memoire for my first year: the strudel and the first collection

post I have planned this well before you leave (no, do not say stupid things ... in fact part of the house in half an hour ) for a brief interlude at the end of August but I can not fail today (ie the day on which the post will be published) my Philosophically Sustainable is one year old !

How strange to think about ... a year ago I began this enterprise telematics and cooking, without knowing where I would bring in terms of gastronomic enrichment, social, cognitive. The experience of the blog was one of the fundamental building blocks of this year: I've known people - only in virtual form, yes, but still able to fill my life's lessons, pleasure, a talk and interact on a basis of common interests-and I met new techniques and new ingredients to cook ... and I hope to have a little 'too rich, in my own small world of foodbloggers.

you read this post-what bizarre, is not it? I am writing on June 4 but I say "today" as of August 22 ... Convention and its weird that that is the time (bulldozing the broader thinking that would be the case that there is because I lack the time, in fact, to do it, I have a train in an hour and leaving home in half an hour )- farà caldo e starete stremati tra mare, forse vacanze, costumi e il pensiero che in ogni caso l'estate volge al termine. E io sarò in Turchia, ormai pienamente dentro al resort e alla sua vita, ormai pienamente animatrice (con quello che di buono e di brutto comporta). E forse non avrò tempo di accedere al blog, o forse nemmeno le possibilità tecniche.

Ma voglio salutarlo questo primo anno di vita di Filosoficamente Sostenibile , anche se da lontano, con l'inaugurazione della mia prima raccolta... mi è venuta alla mente ieri (ieri 3 giugno ): I was close to the seafront, in a fresh row of trees, and a smell of fresh baked apple and raisins, in short, the smell of strudel, I was incredibly tickled the nostrils. And a heap of memories flooded me: I do not know why, but I recalled to mind the sweet springs and summers of childhood, the memories of the camp of my mother's relatives from whom spent time in the summer as a child ... and Proust. Proust got to do that, you say.

do with his mémoire involuntary that, according to Wikipedia (I do not have time to cite sources more educated), is "That [memory] prompted by a casual feel and we plunged back into the past with a alogical procedure, which allows you to 'feel' contemporary with that past, to see him in his environment..

My collection, Madeleines mon Amour , wants to assemble recipes that have a high value for you a memorial, to remember, and of which only the smell (in addition to sight, touch, flavor), leads to memory and to raise some kind of brain limbro past memories: that of childhood, adulthood, adolescence ...

Poche semplici  regole: 

1. Si può partecipare con più di una ricetta, purché sollevino tutte una simile intensità emotiva, anche se ovviamente non lo stesso ricordo.


2. Non si vince niente per questa raccolta se non la gloria eterna (e ti par poco?  ) e la pubblicazione della ricetta in un grande pdf finale.


3. Per partecipare alla raccolta basta linkare your recipe in the comments below
4. Place logo with a link to this page of the collection and reporting in the post the recipe (and if you also want the heads of your blog)
5. apply ad hoc recipes and recipes that have already been published
6. can participate who does not have a blog, sending an email to giulia.danslenoir @ rocketmail.com by location: "Madeleines mon amour"
7. The deadline is April 4 2011, in occasione del mio venticinquesimo compleanno .

Questo il LOGO :

A tutti una meravigliosa fine agosto e un dolce immergersi nei ricordi!

Recipes participants :

• Alessandra of ViaggiandoMangiando with The Bread Pizza
• Alesssia The biscuit à Soupe de Peaches stuffed with
• Amber de The Cat Ghiotto with polenta cakes sapa
• Angelica of 5 ° deadly sins: Gola cake with Love
• Anna Lisa of Gluten ... for everyone with rice and cauliflower
• Barbara of Recipes Barbare Corolla with Grandma Fernanda
• Daniela Daniela of Diocletian & Spaghetti with sbiraglia: my recipe for happiness
• Elena de The clumsy with celiac Pizza with olives, beets and gluten-free
• Elena of Zibaldone culinary with Polenta superpasticciata
• Federica of with hints of chocolate bundt small ... (of all ages!)
• Federica of Notes of chocolate with Rice soup with peas and chicory
• Felix di UncuoredifarinasenzaGlutine- le ricette di Felix e Cappera con Blitz di mele


• Felix  di  UncuoredifarinasenzaGlutine- le ricette di Felix e Cappera  con  Crispeddi C'Anciovi o Ca Ricotta


• Francesca de  I paciocchi di Francy con Tortine leggerissime alla ciliegia, anzi no, alla mela


• Luciana di Dal dolce al salato con la Pasta con il cavolfiore


• Maetta of What fun you know?? ravioli with my mom
• Marifra79 of Peppermint and Liquorice with Madeleine with olive oil, honey and pomegranate
• Giulia dans le noir ( same me in person) with Simit, bread buns with sesame seeds
• Giulia dans le noir ( same me in person) with the strudel mémoire
• Miciovolante de cuisine with a mustache with The cookies grandmother
• Miciovolante de cuisine with a mustache with Pastiera
• Miciovolante de cuisine with a mustache with pudding
• Miciovolante de cuisine with a mustache with Zeppole potato
• Patapata of Pies Patapata with My village cake (variations on a theme)
• Roberta of Cooking with Roberta with Skewers vegetables
• Sara of knead dough with Apple strudel with amaretti
• Serafina Luisa of Mamanluisa biscuits with banana and cocoa
• Speedy70 of A whole kitchen Meatloaf stuffed with pumpkin
• Valerio of the kitchen like you've never seen it - take them by the throat with Casatiello (timeout)
• Zori of Dreaming in the Kitchen with The hot soup my mom
• Zori of Dreaming in the Kitchen with Life urbanization

[...] But as soon as the sip mixed with cake crumbs touched my palate, startled, attentive to the extraordinary phenomenon that took place in me. A delicious pleasure m'aveva invaded, isolated, with no notion of cause. And now, m'aveva become indifferent to the vicissitudes, the harmless showers, deceptive brevity of life ... I no longer felt mediocre, contingent, mortal. From where I had that joy could be violent? I felt it was connected with the taste of tea and the madeleine. But infinitely surpassed him, was not to be of the same nature. Where was it? What was the point? Where to stay?

 Marcel Proust: "Alla ricerca del tempo perduto"

Il mio strudel della mèmoire 

Ingredients

for pasta crazy (my version)

• 300 g flour 00
• 50 g butter ammordito
• 30 g of sugar
• a pinch of salt
• an egg
• water as needed

for filling

• 3 apples rather large
• a couple of handfuls of raisins
• frutta secca tritata grossolanamente (noci, nocciole, mandorle... ho risolto così rispetto alla versione classica non avendo pinoli)


• 50 g di zucchero di canna


• il succo e la scorza di un limone 


• un pizzico di cannella (se piace)


• pangrattato o biscotti secchi q.b. 

Il ripieno si può personalizzare a piacimento : spesso ci ho aggiunto albicocche o prugne secche, a volte qualche cucchiaio di marmellata (di limoni e di arance); una volta non avevo mele e ho usato le pesche. 

P rocedimento : Preparate la pasta matta mescolando zucchero e farina setacciata con un pizzico di sale. Poi aggiungete il burro lasciato ammorbidire a temperatura ambiente fuori del frigo e l'uovo; bagnate il composto con acqua fino a che non si ottiene un impasto morbido che non si attacca al piano.

Mettelo a parte, facendo attenzione a coprirlo con un canovaccio, e lasciatelo riposare mentre preparate il ripieno: sbucciate e tagliate le mele e bagnatele nel succo del limone. Aggiungete la scorza grattugiata, l'uvetta precedentemente ammollata in acqua tiepida e la frutta secca spezzettata. Mescolate e amalgamate bene.
Take the dough on the filling and place it on a cloth (as used to cover it during lunch break, for example) roll out quite thin rectangular shape. Sprinkle the surface with bread crumbs mixed with sugar and crumbs of biscuits and pour the filling on top of this coverage. With the help of the cloth, close the dough to give it the classic form of the strudel.
Let the party closing down, so that it opens and the filling comes out during cooking. On top
do many small linear incisions with a knife. Bake at 180 ° C for 30-35 minutes. And 'better if you let it rest: Council will then prepare the day before and enjoy it the next day, the pasta has softened and the flavors have mixed and blended in an excellent manner. Remains soft and good for days, even more than a week.


Mon amour but memoire and the smell of strudel that spreads in the air while it is in the oven!

Note on sources: In my uninterrupted quibble about memories, memoire, the blogversari and libraries have culpably failed the necessary citation of sources. When I decided to make the strudel paste using the crazy and not the pastry I did extensive research on the Internet and various, there are many versions (the term "mad dough" seems to indicate a huge range of ideas and suggestions) become a matter of choice - a question then I would say almost "ethics" - have ranged from several recipes collected from my time in the usual, customary, archive, ie Cookbook Bianca , inspired by both the poor Strudel of Ale65 that the Apple Strudel of Elisa69 (the latter especially for the filling) and the apple strudel of Chiado (which I have the greatest inspirations for my version of mad dough). I thank the three authors, as well as all other cookbooks / foodbloggers / friends consulted (directly or indirectly) for their various and different recipes strudel, for the good advice and the goodness that gave me .




And finally, a hug (for you) and August (for me) in June (while I finish this update in an Internet café in Rome). And to feel, really, real-time, soon.




Giulia

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Bearded Dragons Loud Music

intervention sad for a happy event did not ... and a plum and peaches with rice flour to console a bit '

Maybe we were hoping, maybe even we thought, maybe I have Lost ... but finally I found the strength and energy to update the blog in my spare (few) free time during the working day in Bodrum. Unfortunately, and I repeat, unfortunately, is not a happy one reason that prompts me to write, and what will be the leitmotif of my memory. I can not, although I would speak of what happens to me here, meaning that this experience has for me, in spite of everything, despite the inevitable bad days, decrease in mood, daily hassles and annoyances, which can not be happy to be here. Maybe I'll talk later, maybe when I come back, maybe in that fortnight latency between 15 and 30 September in which it probably will be less overworked. The spring that brings me to write an event is anything but happy: Carlotta died last Wednesday, my cagnolona white, which I left in good and very good health and that until Monday, August 10 I knew was still in very good health . Tuesday my mother informed me that the day would bring Charlie to the vet ... My first thought was that it was for a routine check, a call for a vaccine, a problem of dysentery. Whatever, whatever, but it was repaired and not serious.
The next day my mother told me that Charles was serious. That some day is now not eating and vomiting, and che il veterinario le aveva individuato una disfunzione ai reni... non ho capito se c'entrava anche in minima parte la Leishmaniosi o se è stata un'ipotesi valutata a poi scartata. Ma non mi importa in realtà cosa realmente fosse, non è importante quale ipotesi sia stata quella giusta... non ora comunque, perché Carlotta è morta. O per usare un vile eufemismo, se n'è andata, senza che avessi il tempo di accorgermene, senza che potessi essere là per salutarla... ... ...

Che avrebbe cambiato?, direte voi. Lei sarebbe morta comunque. Magari nemmeno si ricordava me. Probably did not take in mind all the times that I yelled at all the times I accused of being a "dumb dog" whenever I really do not suffer, as support animal intelligence, the ability of non-human affection, emotions, memories, a dog does not have the same capacity memory nor reflective of a human being. So my remorse, my rethink everything I could do to send my love, are ill placed and useless.
However, it is heartbreaking to think that in October I come home and there she will celebrate with a chorus of barks and howls. Howls annoying, insistent, insopportabili... ma pur sempre suoi, pur sempre di lei vivente.

E' impressionante come un animale di una specie diversa dalla nostra sia riuscito a diventare così profondamente parte della famiglia, del gruppo, del branco. Sento la sua perdita come quella di un familiare, o di un amico, o di un parente, e non me ne stupisco, perché mi sembra normale soffrire per qualcuno con cui si sono condivisi tanti anni.

Carlotta ha vissuto dal 2000 al 2010... è arrivata, piccola e col testone, che avevo 14 anni e se n'è andata nell'estate dei miei 24 anni. Mi ha vista crescere, da adolescente acerba farmi ragazza e poi donna, saw the end of my schooling, I have known one of the most important periods of development. I do not think that accompany even further, I do not see career woman
(or woman self that is maintained), it seems unreal and science fiction. It will be a trauma to go home, and it will also and above all for that.
This post is intended as a farewell hymn to Charlotte, my white dog spoiled, childish and annoying at times overbearing at times but tremendously tender.
her who saw me blossom, she who was always there to bark with his high-pitched voice, he wanted to be always on top, always in sight of her who was raised by two of our cats but could not not to be jealous of the cats and the fact that they could sleep on the couch and not you, that when she went on holiday my simulated on a hunger strike and then steal secretly (or blatantly) from the bowl of cat food; its endless barking that meant that nobody in the neighborhood never felt alone, his brown eyes as a young girl, her thick coat of white traces left on the floor in 12 months a year ... will be strange not having to wipe or clean with more the vacuum cleaner.
As I do not believe in life after death for humans, I can not even believe in an afterlife for non human, but engraved in our hearts and in our minds is his memory, as well as the sweet thought that you re-insert, buried underground, in the life cycle, food chain of the Mediterranean (sounds strange ... but maybe the thought of the life cycle that always returns even if living in different forms for me is immensely sweet and comforting). You can not console the death of others but the one who remains alive and in need of hope and consolation.
And this form do one last, painful, greeting, to Charlotte, which will always be for me my brown-eyed white kitten and desserts.
Farewell my Charlotte. And thanks for everything .

Dimmi, o luna: a che vale

Al pastor la sua vita,

La vostra vita a voi? dimmi: ove tende

Questo vagar mio breve,

Il tuo corso immortale?

Giacomo Leopardi: "I Canti"

Although he may seem inappropriate, even if perhaps in a wrong context, I leave and I still leave you with a recipe, which softens albeit slightly (because the sadness is too bitter) my farewell. I know that in Italy the climate is not very summery ... but still, I think, still the period of peaches and plum that I want to offer it falls like a glove. If I could have access to the kitchens to prepare for it a bit distracted 'by this weight I feel in my chest and to enjoy a moment of sweetness. It 's a recipe I created last summer and that the public is only now being reached again in season: inspired Plumcake with rice flour and cherries of Anicestellato, has become reality in quite another, as often happens many delights born from the lack of ingredients and the need to replace them because of the incredible and relentless desire to cook: Having come to miss the rice flour (to which I added cornstarch and potato starch which have helped to give the cake a sofficiosità tremendously lustful, sometimes even too much) and cherries, which I replaced with peaches, always abounding in the summer.

Hoping to please, I put the recipe in Annex ... it subsides, without forgetting the tragedy of the main news.

Plumcake the three soft flour with peaches

Ingredients

• 100 g of rice flour
• 40 g of potato starch
• 70 g cornstarch 90 g
• oil semi
• 100 g brown sugar 2 eggs
• 2 peaches
• brown sugar to sprinkle the mold
• a sachet of baking powder

Procedure: Work oil with sugar until a creamy froth. Add eggs and mix well. I use the whisk for convenience and speed, but of course you can do everything by hand, using the strength of your arms.

Once the dough well mixed, add the flour sifted with baking powder and then peeled and chopped peaches before.

Mix well, then spoon the mixture into a greased loaf pan and sprinkle with brown sugar, maneuver che contribuirà a dare al dolce una deliziosa crosticina brunita. Cuocete in forno preriscaldato a 180° C per 30-35 minuti (vale sempre e comunque, come ormai è noto, la prova stecchino). 

Lasciate raffreddare prima di sformare e gustare .

E con questa ultima consolazione, con questo dolce saluto, vi mando un forte (e per me consolante abbraccio) dalle coste turche. Sperando di riaggiornarci presto

Giulia

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Soft Skinjacket Potato

real learning.

Have you ever wondered what the meaning of education? Why go to school, learn different subjects, exams and we vied with each of us to get the best grades? What is the true function of education? It 's just in order to overcome some tests and find jobs, which is the function of education is to prepare ourselves when we are still young, to understand the process of life in its entirety? Of course life is not only made work, job, life is something extraordinarily wide and deep, is a great mystery, the largest, which surrounds all of us human beings.

I believe that education has no other effect than to help us understand the vastness of life, in all its nuances, its beauty, its sorrows and joys. Degrees and academic qualifications to be worth nothing if the way our mind is dulled and dumbed down.

The true function of education is to cultivate the intelligence not only in the making, but also in the know, trying to find the answer to every problem that we will find our path, and, inevitably, there's a lot more depending on the development of our intelligence ...

It 's very important for young people living in an environment where not afraid because the hotels where there is fear there can be no intelligence.

When I say fear, I mean the fear of rebelling against all organized religion and dogma, against tradition, the tomb of innovation, against the corruption of contemporary society, revealing individually , as individual human beings, the truth.

not imitation, but genuine discovery . And this is only possible when you are free, wherever that is in place an ongoing revolution within.

only investigating, observing, constantly learning, we find the truth, God or love it, but we can not do this, nor have any awareness, if we are afraid.

The function of education can not be other than to eradicate, both inside and outside, this fear that destroys the mind, relationships and love.

SAYS TEST : It is not literature, nor the vast knowledge that makes the man, but his education to real life. How important was that we were also wise if he did not know live in brotherhood with others? (Gandhi).

Bmi Data For Females Aged 2 20

not appear to prefer instead of being

Usually when we speak of "apparent" you end up about people who love luxury, it is vain, that does everything to be in the spotlight. These are people who have self-esteem result from (there is good if someone tells me) or are victims of heavy social conditioning or family.

to think of it, the same conditions are what make us ashamed of our situation that in itself should not be at all embarrassing. The poor who feel uneasy about his poverty or his humble work, the poorly educated person who feels embarrassed in front of those who have studied, those invited to a wedding does not feel right because they all dress better than him. It should be clear that "being influenced by what people think about" when we have no moral guilt is a form of appearance, probably because, if we were on the other hand, we would be apparent. So far, many will agree. But go a step further to see how many have the courage to follow.

be because of what I think people never cared a fig, or to be more precise has not in any way influenced my way of being and acting, but I think I have exclusivity on a situation that I have never heard a comment from anyone in a similar way to mine.

The fact is this. Long ago, in a television service is praised as a hero a girl, raped by her stepfather for years, had found the courage to denounce it, the title, comments (the brave girl, etc..), Everything was white. And then a question arises: why in this and many other similar cases the victim does not show his face, but you return to your back? The only answer is shame. But the shame of what?? Since it is not to blame and that it does not for fear of retaliation (the actor or actors know very well who is the offender), why not show it openly, to point the finger on the perpetrator and say a resounding "he himself, he must pay !"??. not I'll never understand why a woman who is raped should be ashamed, because she does not have any guilt.

Unfortunately, our society ( and so on in spite of the woman) is still heavily influenced by a vision of sexuality from the ancient religion (collateral damage ...?), according to which the woman is guilty even when it has done nothing wrong (a little ' like the child who was beaten without cause by the parent drunk, feels guilty because he thinks that he was bad.) We think that in some Islamic currents, if the victim of a crime, the woman may still be punished because he has caused shame to his family, because if is raped, the limit can also be killed by her father for permission to be raped by a man other than her husband.

Christians are no better: in the Bible a woman is unclean when they have a relationship when he menstruation, in childbirth and so on.

being and appearance are the corresponding actual and desired, what we are and what we want to be or what we want others think we are.

Almost all of them follow in their life, and appear to be a mix, each with its own rules and percentages of both elements. It 's very hard to go back because, accustomed to what seems to us to propose the most appropriate or necessary, there are more dedicated to understanding our reality, that is, as we really are and the less we have worked to improve seriously, all taken improve the image that we had to "sell" us.

Take the habit of substance, to find the mental habit of relating to reality, with real people and not their image, is a path that can be painful and quick. Sometimes then, the commitment of appearance is so great that we end up believing we would like to appear to be like, so we are ourselves victims of mystification.

Now get back in touch with reality and can become too painful to admit that we are far from what we want can be very costly in psychological terms, but it is an unavoidable step if you want to take the road of recovery.

I would like to conclude and enrich the concept in question is not arguing that the case did not wish to appear and not wanting to get into the game instead of accepting to be wholly and throughout the active part of their life, architects their own destiny, accepting their prerogatives positive issuing auspicious events, as well as the events do not just uplifting and difficult to manage.

SAYS THE WISE: not pretend to be wise, be wise, but really: we do not need to appear healthy, but to be really. (Epicurus).