domenica and garlic toast

There is a new dumping of snow on the mountains behind me. It has been raining a few days now and today, while it rained most of the day, the sun popped through just enough to say "Don't forget me, I'll be back".

I lit the fire this morning, not because I was cold, but because I hoped its cheery company would keep me in the kitchen long enough to establish some order. Yes, I am an optimist! Instead of cleaning and sorting, I made some Hokey Pokey biscuits with my precious Golden Syrup brought from the UK. It made me think about the things we take for granted. Americans and Kiwis in Italy miss cheddar cheese. I miss Golden Syrup, and Vanilla essence in the form that I am used to. I really miss butter with salt in it, our lovely yellow butter.

On the plus side, I have discovered that the wonderful fibrous bread we have here - cooked in the village in a wood-fired oven - when toasted over the fire, rubbed with a cut clove of garlic and drizzled with freshly pressed olive oil, is a flavour burst without peer. Served with home made vegetable soup, it takes a lot of beating on a Sunday evening in winter.

I know it's a cliche, but that's because it's true. The best things in life really are the simple things.