Monday, October 18, 2010

Demarini Bruiser Vs Reflex

Prejudice

Sotto l'aspetto psicologico, il pregiudizio non è un semplice preconcetto individuale, come se fosse una semplificazione della conoscenza. Il pregiudizio è soprattutto un fatto sociale e culturale, perché fa parte della mentalità di un determinato gruppo di persone, le quali pensano per categorie fondate su stereotipi. Il volere classificare elementi comporta il rischio di dare ad essi valori attinti da una cultura atavica, o formulata da elementi occasionali, oppure dalla non accettazione di certe realtà. Allora sorge il pregiudizio. Ciò significa che non si sa accettare il modo d’essere o esistere degli altri perché non coincide con il nostro modo di vedere e di organizzare la vita, propria e quella della nostra società. Il pregiudizio non è un semplice preconcetto, per cui un’esperienza è attinta dalla visione del mondo e dai propri miti estrapolati dal proprio vissuto. Esso prende la forma di ostilità, sia verso le singole persone, sia verso i gruppi, quando non ci si trovi in comunanza di idee, tradizioni e credenze con l’altro o con gli altri. In questa situazione si ritiene di detenere l’unico sistema dei valori con la pretesa che gli altri accettino, senza adattamenti. Ciò significa svilire l’altro, considerarlo come se non esistesse. Così il pregiudizio determina forme di intolleranza, di ostilità, annullando l’identità socioculturale dell'altro. Ognuno acquista il proprio bagaglio culturale dalle esperienze della vita, dagli studi, dalla propria professione e si forma una mentalità personale. Se a questa si associa rigidità, vi sarà terreno fertile al preconcetto, al pregiudizio e ai comportamenti dogmatici nel modo di condurre la vita. Se avviene ciò, la capacità di collaborazione tra persone, gruppi ed anche intere Nazioni diminuisce e possono sorgere nuovi pregiudizi, non meno seri di quelli antichi. Quando non ci rendiamo conto del fondamento dei nostri concetti, che reggono i nostri ragionamenti, assumiamo un atteggiamento dogmatico, pensando che il nostro modo di vedere sia l’unico e il migliore. Ciò accade perché ognuno di noi tende ad autoconfermare le own ideas and does not consider the need to interpret the facts differently. The basic reasons are always the experience and culture, the experience of the person who fits the culture to which it belongs. The person, if it is plastic and tolerant, is expressed and heard clichés acquired. Finally, while stating some absolute principles, we must consider that our way of thinking might lead us to want to overwhelm all other costs and that we may not have the ability to understand that others are at different positions but not for this less valid. S he would have should not be based on cultural stereotypes, without taking the chance to explore new areas where it can and must extend the opportunity to capture the diversity of others to accept them as as they are, how they think and how they arise. M ong often will aim to cover the other the way we see and do, as an alternative to separate themselves from them and isolate them. This does not promote peace, solidarity, harmony. from the ethical or ach person is worthy of respect for his way of acting and designing things. This may be less than if the person demonstrates to think of working against the general principles that affect all humanity and against our own security. So color, attitude, culture, way of being, if it is bound to arise as compared to the other, should not create communication difficulties. Also there may be conflicts when you want, at all costs, impose own way of seeing and acting, to harm other people's identity and freedom of thought and action. are two poles between which there is the question: authoritarianism and liberal. Being authoritarian means to impose on others their ideas and interpret life in patterns prefixes, outside of which there is no alternative. This is frankly overwhelming. Being liberal does not mean libertarians, where this concept coincides with the "do whatever you want without any respect for gli altri”; essere liberali significa non essere mossi da pregiudizi e preconcetti, che fissano le idee, impedendo alla tolleranza di cogliere la libertà degli altri e accettarla. Il rispetto è fondato sull’accettazione dell’altro, con il quale si è pronti a iniziare una qualsiasi vera comunicazione, basata sulla collaborazione, sulla solidarietà e sulla concordia.

DICE IL SAGGIO: It's never too late to give up our prejudices.

Friday, October 1, 2010

Cuales Son Las Mujeres Mas Infieles

Turkey in the heart: memories, discoveries, nostalgia and beauty of a summer very special. Memories and

I'm a disgusting, I know ... I'm back for more than two weeks, almost three , and yet I had not decided to update, while thinking and thinking all the time. There were thousands and thousands of scrapes, factors, issues that have delayed my update due: first, the return from scombussolamentro and the desire to close the outside world that attacked me for the first week, the need for riambientarsi here, as far as possible to try to reorganize their lives, to drive out the little melancholy and desire, constant in the early days of the return, to pay some tear, technical problems with Blogger that beset me on my computer (I'm writing from the PC that is small enough to travel to the usufruct of the whole family). Caught between my innate laziness and incurable and technical and technological problems independent of my will , I find myself just now to update.
Back in a house that does not start sentivo più nemmeno tale, ho vissuto (per un periodo breve a dire il vero) la condizione del viandante, condizione che Friedrich Nietzsche privilegiava ma che mi rendo conto di trovare faticosa: ricca, florida, piena di esperienze e di confronti, ma carica del peso di non sentirsi mai davvero a casa propria. Adesso che di tempo ne è passato dal mio ritorno, so e sento che è questa casa mia, il posto del mio passato, dove sono cresciuta e mi sono formata, il posto del mio presente e del mio (almeno prossimo) futuro... ma il ricordo di Bodrum, della Turchia, della mia stagione estiva, mi resta saldo nella memoria e a volte batte in una zona vicina al cuore . Mi stupisco a sentirla un little 'me, "Turkey, with its traditions, its contradictions, its people and its language ... in a process that took months of membership for installarmisi in the stomach and who has marked the last period of my stay in Bodrum.
It 'hard to salute a memorial a place and a context that was the place for 3 months and a half (and do not seem to me a few ) I have lived, interacted, built , because it is difficult to store as part of his past life, spent as another dimension of our existence. It 'been easier - it amazes me to think - leave the university context; but maybe this facility is due to the fact that for months, and even now, I continue to rotate around the axis university, such as having friends or acquaintances boys and girls who make the university, finding myself often when I go to Pisa, My now ex-library and use (as long as I activate the card) of the university canteen. For Turkey, the cut was almost complete: yes, of course, are or could be virtually in contact (via Facebook) with all or most of my former colleagues and leaders with some Italian guests I met during the three months. But the context is different, because more people (even if there is someone I really miss) I miss the context: the context of daily routines, weekly, evening. The context in which the end I had a role and location, an environment which always gave me additions to discover, once I decided to open myself to the tradition that surrounded me and to welcome new knowledge as to accumulate .
It was not always like this ... I got really impatient and indifferent to my surroundings. The difficulties I have proved larger than I had figured I was presumptuous, perhaps, or maybe I had not expected to find it plunged into a context so foreign. I just get by with English everywhere, I thought to know better English than they actually knew, and probably on paper my English was good, but in practice is another thing ... and I did not come to terms with Turkey!
arrived in early June, the guests were nearly all Turks ... and very few spoke English! Not a word! It was suffocating spend 8 ½ hours of their day (ie my day job during the day, to stay in the club at the resort) with children (for reasons of age) did not speak a word of English and I do not understand, interact with parents who did not speak English but turkish and hear my fellow international animation ciacole in turkish with children and parents, senza che riuscissi a capirci niente.

L'animazione internazionale... Io facevo parte del team di animazione del Tour Operator Turban Italia, che come già emerge dal nome era italiano: eravamo quattro e italiani e affiancavano l'animazione internazionale, costituita in realtà da turchi e da una minoranza russa. L'esperienza con l'animazione internazionale (l'"internazionale-turca", come amavo descriverla agli ospiti italiani) è stata una delle più dinamiche che abbia mai esperito: qualcuno, un Grande Fratello dell'Animazione (internazionale)turca, gestiva i suoi componenti facendoli ruotare da un resort all'altro ogni volta che si comportavano in maniera scorretta; Thus, in a season, passing before my eyes I saw more fellow leaders than they would have never known. The team of the International and totally changed at least a couple of times, there have been appearances of new animators times the order of days, I had three colleagues several "long-standing" at the Mini Club, and a couple of fleeting appearances transferred within a few days.
The first time I was firmly convinced to return home to pay the penalty, pay my way back and compensate the outward and return to Italy. I could not really feel this way more than cut off, he does not understand anything nor turkish (for obvious reasons) or English ... because they already put into practice my English was not so good and did not allow me to understand everything. To say nothing of my partners ... because the English spoken by the Turks is something essentially incomprehensible. I was shut up (and I say, shut up! But where ever we have seen a Julia who is silent? ) for the first two weeks trying to get my ear to the speech of my colleagues when they spoke Turkish English, and luckily I did this ear. But that does not hunted yet the feeling of loss daunting total, loneliness, not to be in place and the place where I was.
And if I hoped (illusione della presuntuosa, senza dubbio) di "consolarmi" (per quanto possibile) con lo spettacolo serale, anche qui mi sono scontrata con una sonora delusione: per motivi che ancora mi sono ignoti - perché non suffragati da evidenze empiriche, da prove effettive o simili - il capo dell'internazionale aveva optato per la mia incapacità totale sul palco, relegandomi ai ruoli più marginali. E' vero, sono una schiappa a ballare, ma credo sul palco, come "attrice", di cavarmela decentemente: e mi indignava - come ancora mi lascia perplessa- il modo in cui mi aveva catalogata come "incapace" senza avermi mai davvero visto sul palco. L'unica consolazione vera, è che alla fine ero diventata la "cameraman" del team .

... in ogni caso, comunque, ruoli veri non ne ho avuti mai. E questo all'inizio ha rappresentato per me una piccola tragedia. Sembra stupido, lo so perfettamente, è stupido, è stato stupido; ma l'essere esclusa in questo modo dai giochi mi faceva sentire accettata a metà, o in parte, o mal tollerata, e incrementava ancor più il disagio di sentirsi linguisticamente tagliata fuori (almeno in parte) dalla vita del resort.

Poi le cose hanno cominciato a cambiare. Non ricordo bene quando... anche se forse è stato semplicemente quando siamo entrati nel vivo della stagione, quando gli ospiti sono stati tanti, quando ho avuto italiani a cui badare, e non più tempo per farmi certe "seghe mentali". Non ho più pensato (se non di sfuggita) alle parti che non ho avuto mai, più pensato alla voglia di tornare a casa, che in realtà non c'è più stata; non che mi trovassi sempre e comunque bene, il mio umore era se possibile ancora più volubile del solito, alternando giorni di serenità a giorni di noia di sconforto di disorientamento di rabbia.

Ma ero comunque là, a Bodrum, a Yali Ciftlik , al Latanya Beach Resort; e non avrei voluto essere in altro posto, o quanto meno non ci pensavo minimamente, ad essere altrove. Nei periodi più bui ho più che altro pensato e/o desiderato di "Not" ... but my real position, however, always remained in Turkey.
And as I learned to love it! Turkey, I mean, after all, and even my life there, with what he had good and bad, pleasant and unpleasant: the alarm clock in the morning at 7:30, then moved to 8 or 8:30 to then become the standard 7:45 to do so in time the staff breakfast in the restaurant (that we animators could not have breakfast and lunch in the main restaurant but the staff, ie those working at the resort: the waiters to the cooks to the house -keeping the photographer etc ....), the many meetings that day at the end had lost part of the sense, the opening of the mini club at 10, lunch at 12 and 30 tests at 13 - when there was no evidence the afternoon opening of the mini-club and the coveted closing, dinner in the main restaurant, the show evening, the tragic and universally hated now in the resort's disco from midnight in the night.
Once there were Italian guests, time of closure of the mini club as well as the forty-minute dinner, they were my favorite ... that of contact, for the animators' Day "(not the mini-clubber, so to speak) was routine, was working, it was the duty, and even at times when I felt professionally and humanly incapable un'inetta per me ha rappresentato la più bella attività e la migliore consolazione: la conoscenza e la chiacchiera con gli ospiti (anche con gli stranieri potevo parlare, ovviamente, ma i miei preferiti, per motivi linguistici oltre che professionali, erano ovviamente gli italiani ).

Ad agosto ne abbiamo avuti anche 200, di italiani (cifra che non fa certo girare la testa, ma che era alta per un resort che aveva la capienza di più o meno 500 persone), ed è stato il mio momento preferito, anche se in teoria doveva essere il più impegnato, stancante e impegnativo (ma di bambini italiani, che dovevano essere i miei "obiettivi" prediletti, In August there were not many), I loved wandering around the beach, despite the fatigue of eight hours and a half of work (yes, it was children's club, but I want you to bear with me for hours vedervici screaming children who usually spoke a language I unintelligible), look for the green bracelets (in fact guests of the All Inclusive adults had bracelets of different colors depending on the nationality of belonging ... and the Italians were green), to engage in presentations, chats, discussions, or talking with those I already knew.
The weeks have flown at the end ... but every week was an eternity for me. I had a false and distorted perception of time, because a week was a life, it was usually the time when and where each guest had remained with the new Italian create new knowledge, new balance, new ways of being together. The weeks have chased one after another, but when a week was over, and I had to accompany a visitor all'aeroporo Italian (and / or welcome somebody coming ... it was the commitment of the week Monday, the day's arrivals and departure of Italians were "mass" and where we accompanied the four Italian animators asssistente Turban and we helped him in his task), it seemed that an eternity had passed since I accompanied the last, or when I had having to leave. It could be really depressing ... I managed to survive cogliendo e conservando di ognuno quello che di buono mi ha dato, i bei discorsi che ho fatto, le risate che mi hanno suscitato, le cose che ho imparato .

Tutti mi hanno dato qualcosa di bello, un bel ricordo da conservare, belle parole da ricordare, belle storie e suggerimenti letterari. Ho un ricordo dolce dei bambini che ho avuto... pochi a dire il vero, perché pochi sono stati i bambini italiani sotto i dodici anni in tutta la stagione: si vede non era un resort gettonato per famiglie; un ricordo bello di Sara, Giulia, Giulia, Chiara, Ilaria, Vladi, Giulio, Riccardo, Camilla, Giorgia, e anche di Giuseppe e Lorenzo che non sono never been in the mini club but I did visit every day. Vladi who taught me to do the aeropolanini paper. Sara and Joseph, in two totally different periods (one in July and another in August), I was taught and perfected the production of paper boats. Giulia with his shyness and his imagination and his confidence reminded me of myself at her age. The couple Giulio Riccardo-who I've helped to form and with which they form a trio of which I still have nostalgia.
And the children of other nationalities! What sweet memories in the end ... sometimes I have comforted the days go so well. Turkish children, Russians and Poles which sometimes something clicked, affinity or sympathy of skin ... and some I still remember them with affection, even those known in June, and then sink into my early history.


My kingdom, the Mini Club
August helped to consolidate the Latanya Beach Resort, and and August is that I started to feel more part of a kind of team: through August, or perhaps a bit 'before, with half of July ... Although people continued to leave the international animation and change. Eventually, in September, I really felt part of Latanya: In addition to the animators who were close to that I thank you warmly for the entire season (aimed particularly at this thought Nicholas, David and Marc, the other Italian) or part thereof, is there was sympathy between us, attraction, indifference, I knew many waiters, cooks, bartenders, the house-keeping ... and all of them, all I want to thank, even those that do not remember or I never knew the name, although those who greeted me only briefly held by the cookies or fruit from the bar, who knew my name though seemed to me that he had never seen .
And with them I learned to love, Turkey, with its traditions, its uses his music and his habits. Each of the parties and with his way of (not) a Muslim, because so many held us to reiterate that Turkey is Muslim, even if 90% of its inhabitants profess that religion.
For Love (but I loved it from day one that I put my nose out of room), the beaches in front of me and in my ears every day and that day off gave me a good morning, even before the breakfast (it was customary for me to do in the bathroom day off just woke up, the first sweep of the laundry room breakfast):


this show that I believe was beating a thousand times that of water - crystal clear and equally wonderful, of course, but much more artificial - in front of the resort ... We slept in fact leaders in a motel just next to the resort but had divided the beach from the resort:


And still the wonder I could see the sea in the boat ride made with three of my colleagues or a small cove where I conducted my knowledge of Turkish ... knew that the sea is beautiful and wild, so wild that I was kidnapped in Turkey.


From the boat :





The cove beach turkish to Yali Ciftlik:



That part of Turkey I have seen was the presence of wild nature, in that wild free days I went hunting, ecstatic that figs were lying abandoned on the roadside laden with fruit ripe or nearly ripe, so that once I had a bellyful crazy ciu I have collected and bringing in kilos of room for me and my roommate (the other animator Italian) Marcella ... but I have too many crops and many are moldy before I could bite into it, the olive trees (once it was established that olive trees), which goes everywhere, even in the playground, mini club, free and very sweet dogs, cows that were grazing on the edges roads, chickens wandered undisturbed through the narrow streets and who provided the eggs you eat at the resort of geese that I met one morning .... (Those in the photo)








And here is a cat (or rather, the cat boss of the village ... there were many cats that were wandering in the resort but what I had photographed the domain and it was undisputed with great probability the father of many of those I met in June to September, small and romped in the middle of adolescence):




La Turchia, il paese delle contraddizioni, della modernità e della tradizione, il paese in cui la pillola del giorno dopo si vende in farmacia senza ricetta e in cui in certe zone le donne devono ancora coprirsi, dove le ragazze vanno all'università, si laureano, lavorano e vengono in vacanza e dove alcune matrone fanno il bagno vestite e velate, dove chiunque ha Internet ma non tutti riescono a essere consapevoli che il mondo non si ferma ai confini turchi, o che comunque il resto del mondo non conosce le usanze e le tradizioni turche. A metà, davvero, tra Oriente e Occidente (dando a questi due termini the incorrect meaning of "tradition, the closure" and "modernity, progress"), including closure and advanced. It is rich in history, traditions, cultures, a country that had never believed could be so beautiful, so rich, so intriguing in what it has to grinding ... Steeped in history, I actually enjoyed only once during the day sneak nmella free trip organized by the Turban in Ephesus, an ancient city where there are only ruins, city of culture, rich city, which had a huge amphitheater, a beautiful library, front of which I got pictures of my former professor of psychology at the University ... which had been to Istanbul and then to the rest Latanya, and had me as an entertainer! You play that makes us the chance ... do not ever see each other in Pisa (and yes, for a period I've shot a lot) and cross into Turkey.





With two photos for now I conclude my melancholy reminiscence: a I was taken on August 30th (the day which marks the foundation, so to speak, of the Turkish Republic) into my vestitura official entertainer and mini clubbers, with the wreath of olive branches artifact that I wore for a month (obviously retracing every 2-3 days), making people laugh and entertain the children but also adults and earn some strong identity, trying to escape the anonymity that I always saw him relegated to the mini clubbers.
And the other was taken to a 'maybe at the end of July, at the end of our great show on Saturday, Snowhite, where I had a miserable end, however, that I brought with pride: the priest (I'm so anti-clerical that!) that whip all with parsley dipped in the water ... a pleasure, you bet!


I close it without recipes, food without a hint, this series of recollections, which is not the first in a series (which actually may have only two posts: this is the next to be). Then I will far more references to the kitchen and dining customs in Turkey, I was able to enjoy for three months ... (Still enjoying my photo was not stolen from the internet ... but because it would disgrace cell phone camera will be broken in mid-July, forcing me to raise more photos by guests or miei colleghi italiani).

Vi do (e mi do altrettanti) un bentornato nel mondo del mio blog, sperando di riuscire ad aggiornarlo più in fretta e con goduriose e gustose novità.

Un abbraccio e un merhaba ("ciao" in turco) a tutti e a riaggiornarci presto con "Ricordi della Turchia: parte 2 (l'universo gastronomico)"









Giulia




































Saturday, August 21, 2010

How Get Omeprazole Out Of System

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 :


[...] 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




Tuesday, August 17, 2010

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