Cake Giorno e Notte

Hi to every unpaid pastry chef like me,
some weeks ago I have promised that I would post the cousin recipe of my first hiker-cake finlay I found the time to do it.
First I would like to tell you because I like so much this cake that its name could be translate in English like Day&Night cake. I think because it has tied to my memories when I was very young and in morning when I have had breakfast I soaked this yummy cake covered of icing sugar in milk and coffee and the slice of cake has absorbed it like a sponge. t has been fantastic, like now!
Now I put apart my young memories and give you this fantastic recipe. Let's start with ingredients:

• 200 gr. of sugar
• 200 gr. of butter
• 200 gr of flour type 00 (for pastry)
  
• 200 gr. of "fecola" flour (fecola is the flour of potatoes)
• 6 eggs
• 30 gr. of cacao powder
  
• a folder of backing powder (maybe about 5 gr. to 10 gr.)
  
• little bit of cognac
• lemon skin
• a little bit of salt (about 2-3 gr.)

Preparation:

1. Whisk eggs whites with salt in a large bowl until it will be well whipped up
2. Whisk eggs yolk with sugar, when it will be whitening add butter that it has been blunted out of the fridge
3. Mix together two flours and then winnow it then add little by little to the ought of point two keep whisking
4. When the ought will be homogeneous add to the ought of point three the grated lemon skin and cognac and keep whisking
5. Then add whip eggs white of point one whisking slowly until the ought will became a soft and homogeneous cream
6. Divide the compound in two equal part, in one of two bin put, always keep whisking, little by little the cacao powder that you have winnowed before. If you want that the compound will have an heavy cacao taste add more of it but remember that when the cake will be baked it result more thick.
7. Take a pastry pot, of about 25 cm. of diameter, and cover it with a little bit of butter then put on it some flour or grated bread. For a right baked you will need just the part that will be thrust upon to the butter. If you prefer, like me a ring shaped cake, do the same in the right pot
8. Put in the pot two doughs alternate the white part whit the black one. Repeat until the compounds will end, you will obtained about two or three layer
9. Baked for from 25 to 40 minutes (depend on the oven) at 180°C. I you want verified your result when the cake is baking take a long toothpick and prick it, if there no part of cake on it then it's well-cooked. Remember that this procedure must be done when cooking it will be almost finished.
10. Take off the cake from the pot and leave that it make cold then cover (if you like) with icing sugar

If your experiment will be right accomplished you are eating a good slice of cake with coffee, milk or everything else. I'd like it also with out any "drink" where soak it, but until now I have never seen someone that prefer this opportunity to the first one. This is because this cake is heavy and attempt to knead in mouth. For this reason I put below an alternative (but not "original"), alternative recipes that will bring to a more soft result.
Ingredients:

• 150 gr. of sugar
• 150 gr. of butter
• 150 gr of flour type 00 (for pastry)
  
• 150 gr. of "fecola" flour (fecola is the flour of potatoes)
• 5 eggs
• 30 gr. of cacao powder
  
• a folder of backing powder (maybe about 5 gr. to 10 gr.)
• from three to five spoon of milk (about 8 cl.) or better yogurt (125ml)
  
• little bit of cognac
• lemon skin
• a little bit of salt (about 2-3 gr.)

The procedure is the same that has been described before, with exception that you must add milk at point three.
I hope that you or better if someone close to you, will prepare soon a sweet and pleasant weakening to you with my Giorno e Notte. See you soon!

Mio


PS: Unfortunately I have no pictures of it but I put here just I'll do my next giorno e notte

Sogno di Stelle, Polvere d'Amore

Sogno d'Amore - Parte Terza

Non poteva e non doveva finire così pensarono nello stesso istante i giovani amanti, nel medesimo attimo il fuoco dell'Amore bruciò con la forza di mille soli, si divincolarono da quelle gelide e rudi prese, come due stelle cadenti che si lanciano sulla terra l'uno si lanciò sull'altra le loro labbra si dischiusero, la voce uscì dal loro cuore vibrò nell'aria come l'ultimo tuono di un temporale estivo, possente e limpida la formula innominabile della vecchia quercia era stata svelata il silenzio cadde in quella notte come il più sordo dei rumori, come neanche nelle più alte e sperdute vette del mondo essere vivente abbia mai sentito. Le due stelle cadenti giunte alla fine del loro maestoso e argenteo volo si spensero. I due giovani amanti erano ora una figura sola di un abbraccio immortale, le candide vellutate e fresche forme, i luccicanti capelli di quella notte avevano lasciato il posto ad una strana fredda pietra, meravigliosa come il più splendido dei marmi indistruttibile come il granito più duro gelida come la vecchia luna di quella notte. Niente era restato di vivo, solo una muta, altera e maestosa sagoma pietra che delineava la sagoma di due giovani abbracciati nell'Amore eterno.
L'alba sorse quella mattina come tutte le mattine con il suo roseo occhio ad illuminare le fredde terre, a sciogliere lentamente il lieve e pallido velo che le copre. Quella mattina forse incuriosita forse sorpresa sembrò indugiare un attimo quando arrivò al vertice della collina. Quel solitario monolite ora, sotto il suo caldo occhio sembrava possedere vita, che ardeva di un fuoco inesauribile sprigionato dall'Amore. Ebbene si, quella pietra non era morta come tutte le altre, era viva pensava e provava emozioni come tutti le donne e gli uomini, possedeva un'anima ma soprattutto amava! I due giovani ora godevano per l'eternità il sublime privilegio di concedersi l'uno all'altra vivendo solo nell'Amore niente per loro era tortura non la loro immobilità non le loro giovani membra tramutate in quel mirevole minerale, non l'impossibilità di comunicare con le mortali parole, non la vista complice dei loro occhi, non il tocco delle giovani membra, nulla era importante, nulla di mortale esperienza valeva più del loro Amore eterno della felicità che inesauribilmente esso può sprigionare, della leggerezza che può creare a chi si sa sacrificare sapendo che donare è il tutto ed il ricevere viene da se.
Da quella notte le stagioni sono trascorse innumerevoli come innumerevoli sono solo le stelle in tutto firmamento, ma sulla cima di quella collina ogni mattina l'alba illumina quel baluardo di roccia splendente nella sua immutabile bellezza, ne il tempo ne le intemperie sembravano scalfirlo o segnarlo anzi sembravano cullarlo con dolci carezze che, anche le più ruvide mani sanno fare quando usano la dolcezza che viene dal cuore.
In tutti questi anni coppie di innamorati attirate dalla bellezza di quel posto, da quel monolite dalle sognati fattezze dalla leggenda ad esso legata si sono giurate Amore eterno davanti a quei testimoni immobili e solenni; ognuno consegnava nelle mani dell'altro il suo cuore perché lo costudisse dagli eventi nefasti che la vita serba per ognuno, per proteggerlo da quei scherzi che solo il fato può provare piacere nel fare. Tutte le coppie sentivano in quel posto il caldo torpore di un fuoco che ardeva eterno, il fuoco sentito dai loro genitori, dai loro nonni, un fuoco che memoria d'uomo non ricordava essersi mai estinto, essere sempre esistito. Era proprio così, peccato che i loro occhi mortali non vedessero la vita in quella fredda roccia, non vedessero l'Amore che essa sprigionava. Per fortuna gli occhi del cuore li aiutavano a percepire tutta quella magia.
Le foglie ormai stanche si lasciavano cadere a terra come rossastre lacrime di pioggia si posavano lievemente sul terreno mettendo a nudo i freddi tronchi degli alberi, l'autunno si stava inoltrando il freddo cominciava a spargersi nell'aria con le prime nebbie quasi come una morte invisibile si insinuava nel bosco alla ricerca delle sue prede assalendole con la sua morsa inesorabile.
Era un tiepido pomeriggio della fine di ottobre ed un giovane solitario si avvicinò nei pressi della maestosa roccia che da tempo vedeva dal paese ma che non era mai andato a contemplare; rimase folgorato dalla bellezza di quei lineamenti, di quelle forme armoniose e dinamiche di quell'eterno abbraccio; guardando le fattezze della roccia restò colpito dalla bellezza che si intravedeva nella figura che assomigliava ad una giovane fanciulla che si slanciava verso il suo compagno, istintivamente toccò quelli che lui credevano essere i suoi capelli, le sue braccia i suoi fianchi, un brivido di calore entrò da quelle giovani dita in quella fredda roccia aveva percepito la vita! Stranito corse verso casa con quella sensazione nel cuore. Scese la notte e fu una notte strana, diversa troppo fredda più fredda di qualsiasi altro autunno a memoria d'anziano; la vecchia roccia stava la come tutte le sere a risplendere sotto le stelle i giovani amanti sembravano agli occhi mortali sempre fissi ed immutabili nelle loro forme, ma solo quello non era cambiato... . L'incontro della mattina aveva modificato qualcosa che neanche tutto il freddo, il vento ed i terremoti di quei lunghi secoli avevano fatto traballare, qualcosa stava cambiando. La giovane era stata turbata dal tocco di quel ragazzo solitario, da quel gentile sfiorare la sua fredda superficie dal calore delle sue dita, per un attimo per un momento aveva sentito qualcosa che non ricordava così piacevole, la vita oltre quell'Amore. Il faro della spensieratezza e della libertà da quell'Amore l'avevano tentata! Il giovane amante si accorse di ciò ma pensò che la bellezza di quell'attimo non poteva competere con tutto l'Amore che aveva in serbo per lei con tutto l'Amore che gli aveva sempre dimostrato. Pensava che il loro Noi il loro Amore non avrebbe mai ceduto a nessun egoismo. Il giovane sole della mattina fugò ogni suo pensiero.


Mio

Altissimo Mountain -Late Autumnal Version

Hi girls and boys,
yesterday morning I wasn't a bright day, or rather was a very cloudy and foggy day. At about nine o'clock Nicola contacted me for deciding to went out for a short tour in the mountain. By now we have been expert mountain hikers, (? :-) ) then we have agreed that over the cloudy maybe there was a sunny day... with this hope we have arrived at the parking place at eleven o'clock. After a while we have walked through the clouds. When the dirty road has raised here and there has appeared plaque of snow, after half hour we have come out of clouds, we have been over that gray and soft curtain. A wonderful and peer less landscape has disclosed in front of our eyes. An ocean of motion clouds has travelled under our foots and in the distance only the highest mountain top has appeared like an enormous static iceberg made of snow and rocks.
All around us has been dreaming and fairing, mughi trees has had white plume of snow that had modeled by the wind, the snow that covered the small hill close to us has appeared like soft dune made of crystal. After a while we have been on a large path in the snow trace on the crown that bring us to Altissimo mountaintop, on our left two curios black shadow has followed us on another path traced on the snow by the funny paintbrush of the midday sun. In twenty minutes we have "conquered" the mountaintop at 2058 meter of high and we have sited on a bench inside the mountain refuge Damiano Chiesa with the company of a typical hikers liquor the parampampoli.
After a while we have been out of refuge to eatten my last delicious mountain-hikers cake: zelten that is a typical Trentino Christmas cake, I promise you that I'll post the recipe before Christmas. So we have been really ready to depart to went back through the same snow path from we had come, in less then a hour we have reached the car ready to come back home.
I would like thanks with Nicola for the good and smart company, less for him despotic decisions (:-p)... thanks a lot Nicola!
Yesterday I really enjoyed because I saw a little piece of the wonderful mountain winter landscape, with its dreaming and strange shape, I saw ethereal panoramas that only who want see could find.
Yesterday down in valley was a typical autumnal gray day but over the gray clouds was an incredible bright and fairy blue day. Now I ask to myself how many times I didn't try to find the blue sky in me over my gloomy clouds!
Good bye, I hope sunny, blogger.

Mio

Sogno di Stelle, Polvere d'Amore

Il segreto svelato - Parte seconda

I loro genitori si erano dimenticati di fare i conti con l'inesorabile forza dell'Amore che legava i due giovani. Infatti non passò più di una notte di solitudine che entrambi fuggirono con le ombre della notte a coprirgli la strada con la voce del cuore si chiamarono e si trovarono sotto la stessa quercia che l'estate aveva fatto da testimone al loro Amore. Tra baci ed abbracci si ricongiunsero con gli occhi pieni di lacrime si sentivano il Tutto condividevano una pienezza incredibile, l'Amore era più forte che mai. Quando le lacrime lasciarono il posto ai flebili singhiozzii cominciarono a parlare di come risolvere il loro problema con le rispettive famiglie, erano disperati perché non trovavano una soluzione lo sconforto si impadronì di loro e la tristezza era entrata pian piano nei loro cuori. Vedendo tutto questo dall'alto l'antica quercia si commosse e per la prima volta in vita sua parlò. I due giovani furono in principio spaventati da quella profonda voce che veniva dal bosco, non ne capivano la provenienza istintivamente si strinsero l'uno all'altra appoggiandosi all'albero. "Non abbiate paura, sono io..." di nuovo quella voce suadente e profonda, "Io la vecchia quercia". I due giovani sobbalzarono allontanandosi di scatto dal rugoso tronco con la paura negli occhi. Allora l'albero parlò ancora: "Non abbiate paura non vi farò del male, ma non potevo tacere oltre. Questa è la prima volta che parlo in tutta la mia millenaria vita, parlo perché non posso rimanere muta di fronte ad un'Amore distrutto dall'egoismo, quell'Amore che io ho tenuto a battezzo!". Nei due giovani lo stupore e lo spavento lasciarono spazio alla curiosità e all'ascolto di quella saggia voce. "Cari giovani io vi ho visti al vostro primo bacio e ho visto il vostro Amore nascere e crescere, ora saprei come rendere indistruttibile il vostro legame, saprei come dargli la forza che nessuna interferenza esterna riuscirà mai spezzare, purtroppo io so...", "Perché purtroppo?" l'interruppero i giovani all'unisono; "Purtroppo perché quello che dovereste pagare per avere ciò che vi prometto è alto forse troppo alto per chiunque ma è l'unico prezzo per godere del privilegio del vostro Amore". I due giovani spaventati si rivolsero a quel tronco inanimato dicendo: "Ti prego svelaci il segreto per annullare le nostre pene, per poter godere del nostro Amore pienamente!", la quercia commossa dall'Amore che vedeva nel cuore dei due giovani disse:"Ve lo dirò ma sappiate che quello a cui dovrete rinunciare sarà qualcosa di più della vita, qualcosa che solo chi ama veramente è capace di accettare senza alcun peso, qualcosa che per chi non Ama veramente, può essere solo che una tortura indicibile e senza fine!" i due giovani insistettero: "Non temere saggia quercia il nostro Amore è unico ed indissolubile come la luna e le stelle nella notte, come il sole splendente nel cielo più blu!". "Ebbene vi svelerò il segreto, ma badate bene se non vi Amate veramente sarà per voi la più grande tortura di tutta la vostra vita! Tortura che potrà finire solo con la fine del vostro Amore, finirà con l'addio alla vita di uno di voi!". La coppia a queste parole un po' spaventata incedette, la paura offuscava la loro decisione. Si guardarono negli occhi intensamente tentando di scrutare il profondo del loro cuore l'intimo delle loro anime. Per lunghi momenti le parole entravano nei loro cuori senza che nessuna lettera vibrasse nell'aria, infine con una lunga argentea lacrima che rigava le loro facce si voltarono verso il maestoso albero dicendo: "Svelaci saggia quercia il segreto che per tanto tempo hai custudito svelaci il segreto dell'Amore che può essere eterno!" ad un tratto il vento si spense le foglie che giacevano su terreno non si muovevano più gli uccelli notturni divennero muti e dall'alto la luna si nascose dietro timide nubi la quercia parlò svelando quelle magiche parole che qui non possono essere ripetute e, subito dopo tutto ricominciò a vivere a muoversi a tornare al prima, la quercia ora era di nuovo muta. I giovani avevano finito le domande.
Il bosco cominciò ad animarsi in uno scompigliato trambusto, uomini con lanterne gridavano nomi che percuotevano l'aria come il vento autunnale sibila tra i rami. Le famiglie dei giovani erano alla ricerca della coppia. Sentendo quelle voci gli innamorati cominciarono a correre veloci veloci nella direzione opposta, scappare dal loro peggiore incubo per varcare la porta della loro libertà. Il bosco si diradava sempre più i rami degli alberi scioglievano il loro freddo intreccio come le vecchie secche dita d'un anziano quando salutano qualcuno in lontananza. Si trovarono improvvisamente sulla collina che sovrastava il paese, l'erba coperta della bruma autunnale scricchiolava lievemente al loro passaggio la luna illuminava il tutto, cristalli eterei sotto i loro piedi segnavano la strada, diamanti sulle loro teste vegliavano la loro fuga, bianco vapore sulle loro labbra segnale della folle corsa. All'improvviso un rumore una voce profonda di un'uomo adulto interruppe il loro passo, il fiato corto della giovane coppia svanì con l'illusione della libertà. Erano stati scoperti, scovati e bloccati; il padre del giovane bloccava la strada di fronte a loro, con uno sguardo severo e penetrante con la sua mole imponente tutto attorno sembrava piccolo piccolo. Si strinsero forte le mani, non volevano rinunciare alla loro libertà, alla loro vita, al loro Amore. Si girarono di scatto come solo una lepre messa alle strette potrebbe fare, tentarono ancora la strada del bosco, l'abbraccio freddo di quelle dita secche secche. Erano arrivati quasi alle prime basse fronde quando un'altera scura figura uscì come un fantasma dalle secche frasche, occhi di felino a caccia che sa di aver la tra gli artigli li li puntarono, era il padre di lei si moveva lentamente con la tranquillità di chi sa che il tempo non conta quando il risultato è assicurato! Due muri invalicabili cingevano i giovani in una morsa un letto di cristalli tra di essi un'infinità di diamanti nel cielo, la fine di un sogno la fine di quell'utopia reale stretta in quelle giovani e fredde mani. Ora erano la nel centro di quella collina, dall'alto di quel luccicante trono dominavano la valle, commossi si abbracciarono la stretta che gli univa era quella dell'Amore, credevano che niente e nessuno potesse scioglierla chiudendo gli occhi si baciarono, ancora il loro Amore era la misura del tempo, tempo dove un attimo un momento trascorre come mille stagioni, stagioni di maggio stagioni di fiori di profumi di vita! Mani possenti strinsero quell'abbraccio d'Amore, le loro braccia persero improvvisamente le forze l'impeto della violenza li aveva sorpresi come una tempesta estiva nel mare più calmo ed azzurro, turbini inesorabili lottavano per spezzare le catene che ancoravano i due giovani, presto le maglie caddero a terra d'argento freddo e cristallino brillavano alla luna erano le lacrime dei loro occhi che sempre più distanti brillavano.


Mio

Misone Mountain

Hi guys,
just now I can write this post about my last tour in mountain, because this week is very busy for me but this doesn't matter...
Let's now to talk about my last tour. Sunday I went with, by now, my official trekking friend Nicola on Misone Mountain that is a quite high mountain on the west side of Busa.
On Sunday morning at about eleven o'clock we departed to the small village of Ville del monte to reached the parking place near mountain refuge St. Pietro. Unfortunately the day wasn't bright rather was a very foggy and cloudy day. This haven't worry us, because we have knew (or batter hope) that Sunday a rainless day. After a while we have marched to our goal.
Like every times that we have been together in mountain we have kept company with chat about our last news, until the road has become a dirty one and the dirty road has become a path through the rocks and the trees, there our chat has interrupted by our breathless. The path has become to climb on the mountain, foggy has kept us a silence and paled company. After about one hour we have took the path that has turned on right directed to Tenno mountain farm. When we have arrived a singular and rather bare view has waited us, all fields has been destroyed by man made work that has provided to brought there water and has uprooted some trees. After Nicola has took some pictures we went ahead on the muddy path, to mountaintop of Misone.
After a while we have walked on first snow that the week before has fall on mountaintop, we have been alone nobody on the path, no footprint on the snow ahead us, only a lightweight foggy has followed us. After about forty minutes we have arrived on the top at 1800 mt. of altitude. We haven't knew nothing about our position our puckish company has rendered all withe.
After a short lunched packet we have departed to the path of return, when we have arrived at mountain farm Tenno a shiny sun has appeared, unfortunately too late for show us a beautiful view from the Misone mountaintop. There we have decided to went to the near mountain farm Fiavè, after thirty minutes we has appreciated the grass field and the lonely of that landscape. After about two hour we have reached the parking, this time without the pale company of the moon, but this time doesn't matter.
I would like thanks with Nicola that this time, like other many times, has kept me a good, brave and bright company! Many thanks Nicola.
From Sunday I'll bring with me the peace that some times only the loneliness of certain place could give you.
See you soon,

Mio


PS: Every pictures that I have linked here to my Picasa gallery has taken by Nicola Peroni. I haven't published my worst photos, where me neither recognized myself. This photos are available only on demand... OK NICOLA!!! ;-)

Carreras, Domingo, Pavarotti - The Three Tenors in Concert Caracalla - Metha

Hi music fan,
recently I have felt (I use this verb instead of listened, when the music give me good vibration), the classical music album: Carreras, Domingo, Pavarotti - The Three Tenors in Concert Caracalla - Metha. The first time that I have listened it I was ten, I know that this maybe could be appear quite strange, but every young boy I was suggestionable and I have bought this my music tape because I have kidnapped from a ditty that I had listened in a cyclistic TV program. The nameof this ditty is Nessun Dorma that belong to Turandot Opera. Since then this ditty is one of my favorite "song" and I have appreciated very much this album, now that I have found its digital format I relax with all wonderful the ditties that it contain.
I would like suggest you to listen it! Surely you will not disappointed!
See you,

Mio

Sogno di Stelle, Polvere d'Amore

L'inizio - Parte Prima

In un villaggio piccolo piccolo perso nello spazio e nel tempo in ricordi troppo distanti e troppo antichi, giaceva sulla cima di una collina come posato da chissà quale gigantesca mano fatata due grandi e maestose rocce, tutti i paesani le chiamavano i Grandi Innamorati vista la forma che nelle sere dell'anno si stagliava contro il cielo rossastro mostrando a tutta la valle il profilo di una coppia di innamorati, lei con i capelli al vento mossi dallo slancio dell'abbraccio, lui con le sue braccia strette attorno ai suoi fianchi. Sembravano danzare ogni sera nei rossore dei tramonti.
Tutte le coppie dei paesi vicini andavano a giurarsi amore eterno ai piedi dei Grandi Innamorati ed essi assistevano dall'alto come muti testimoni alla magia dell'Amore che stava sotto i loro occhi benedicendo le promesse che le giovani coppie solennemente prendevano qualora il loro cuore fosse stato puro.
Nessuno però sapeva la vera storia dei Grandi Innamorati, di quelle strane rocce antropomorfe perchè le parole tramandate si erano ormai perse nel soffio inesorabile del vento del tempo che tutto confonde, che tutto muta, che tutto fa scordare. Ora io conosco tale storia il perché ed il come ora non importano, importa solo la sua magia, la sua verità ed il fatto che tutto veramente è accaduto! Ed ora ve la racconterò.
Era sera piacevole di primavera di festa e balli nel dolce paese di contadini ai piedi della collina, l'estate ormai bussava alle parte della natura i frutti crescevano lentamente, certi assumevano il colore dell'età adulta altri sembravano voler restare eternamente bambini ed acerbi. Le giovani coppie si lanciavano sguardi di timida e vicendevole complicità cercando di sfuggire al controllo vigile degli adulti più inflessibili. Il vino e la musica, i profumi della natura le stelle curiose che dall'alto osservavano avrebbero poi distratto anche loro...
La serata continuava più piacevole che mai, la festa scorreva in un fiume di conviviale vitalità e spensieratezza, gli sguardi di prima ora si incrociavano sul palco in roteanti e fluenti balli, dove i giovani uomini tentavano di comportarsi come cavalieri d'altri tempi mentre le giovani donne mostravano di non aver svanito nel tempo la loro innata aurea di alteri angeli piovuti da chissà quale magnifico cielo alieno. Tra le coppie una brillava su tutte, i due giovani che si erano appena incontrati in quella festa ma nonostante ciò erano l'essenza dell'armonia, assieme l'uno risaltava la bellezza dell'altra e viceversa. Quella sera tutti restavano ammaliati dalla luce vivida che sprigionavano, luce di gioventù, luce di spensieratezza che brilla senza perché, che arde di solo Amore. In una pausa nei continui balli della serata i due giovani decisero di appartarsi nel bosco all'ombra di una grande quercia, dall'alto una pallida luna illuminava i loro volti donando alla giovane fanciulla viso d'angelo. Brune introvabile perle gli occhi, raggi di stelle d'orati di eteree galassie i profumati capelli sulle sue spalle, di seta come nel lontano oriente non è mai esistita e mai esisterà la pelle il sorriso dolce, luminoso e splendente di lei illuminava il cuore del giovane la sua risata era rumorosa e vitale come un bosco d'uccelli innamorati a primavera. Il giovane volava sulle ali dell'Amore credendo di avere i piedi per terra... quanto si sbagliava, molto poco aveva capito della magia di quella notte! Lei sotto la stessa luna guardava forse con gli stessi occhi quel giovane spettinato, strano con grandi occhi silvestri incastonati come smeraldi su di un viso che segnava i primi tratti di un giovane uomo.
Amabilmente cominciarono a parlare a conoscersi sempre più a poco a poco la serata scorreva verso l'età matura, la luna cominciava ad abbassarsi e le loro ombre si incrociavano abbracciandosi e baciandosi dietro le loro spalle sulla vecchia quercia; ad un certo punto la magia scese dai rami della quercia come le foglie d'autunno si posò leggermente sui due giovani, le loro labbra si avvicinarono in un bacio di miele soffice come la carezza della brezza estiva gentile come il profumo della primavera di passione vellutata come i giovani petali di una rosa; di maggio fiorito si pitturarono le loro anime il tempo non misurava più quell'istante per loro, l'una era la misura dell'altro la leggerezza era nel loro cuore il resto non contava, l'Amore era nato ma nessuno dei due lo sapeva.
I due giovani continuarono a frequentarsi di nascosto per tutta l'estate ma quando il bosco cominciò a vergognarsi ed incalvirsi presero la decisione di dichiarare il proprio Amore alle loro famiglie. Purtroppo per loro le due famiglie erano da lunghi anni in profondi dissapori e, non appena i giovani le convocarono per rendere noto il loro Amore, scoppiò tra i rispettivi genitori una profonda lite; la giovane coppia fu separata e ad entrambi fu vietato di frequentarsi.


Mio

Telegrafo Mountain: Slight Returns...

Hi bloggers,

it was yesterday evening about at 9:00 PM that I had a shower, my shoulder and my legs ached a little for the rucksuck weight that I have brought on my back for about ten hours and for the long walk that has take about thirty kilometers in the mountain. Now it's about 5:30 AM (the day after), my shoulder and my legs ache little less but I feel more then good! But now let's talk a little about yesterday...
Like every Sunday tomorrow I went to had a trip on mountain with my friend Nicola. Of course, like every time more or less, we departed from my home to an unknown mountain near Busa. After some little map-geographic and orienting problems, we have arrived to mountain refuge Graziani on Baldo Mountain; no sunshine has waiting for us only a cold and covered morning has gave us the welcomed!
After a while we have convinced each other that we have done a mmistake for the point of start but we have been near to the right point... in that moment we have done our second, now very big, mistake!
At 9:00 AM we were ready to went to Cima Telegrafo, yes the same place of last Sunday, but yesterday we have reached it from north-east, and not from south east. After twenty minutes of walk on the pave road we have took the path into a beech wood tree, the path S.A.T. numbered 251, that we haven't left for a long, long time... . After one hour we have left our last grass field and we have walked on the ridge, with a fall and dark Garda Lake on our right and a yellow grass-fields on our left distance behind an high barrier of Mugo-Pine tree. We have walked talked nicely about the week things that we have had occurred, sometimes with a short breath sometimes with a tea cup in our hand. We have continued to walk mountain top after mountain top and we have found nobody on our path not even we haven't saw in distance a lonely hunt with his faith dog have kept us company.
The third mountain top have conquered, all over 2000 meters, and about three hours of walk have passed but we haven't saw Cima Telegrafo jet, something haven't returned in our count because we must been very near to it! Just after about other two hours we have discovered how we have mistaken... .
It was 12:40 PM the first time that Nicola has told me the time, and Cima Telegrafo has been ahead us behind a mountain top, after about one hour and five fairly high mountain top we were under the big metal cross that signed almost every mountain top in the alps. We drunk our hot tea, ate some plain chocolate and of course ate my traditional trekking cake that I made the day before (this time was an traditional Trentino apple cake). At 2:00 PM we were ready to went home, we were awared that the return trip will be very long. We took the path S.A.T. numbered 252 down to the mountain through the mughi under a shiny sun. After about two-three hours we have walked again on a pave road that has conducted us to the car at mountain refuge Graziani. Time have been passed and a curios paled moon has kept us company. We have been distance from the car jet, the chilly night has knocked with its hand on our bodies, we have dressed all our chilly-dress protection maybe we have seemed alone heroes of lost times... surely for the alone cars that has passed on the road we have seemed alone crazy guys! :-)
After a while the paled and curious moon has met in the sky million of shiny stars to talked about that two strange guys that have walked only with the company of their dark and faithful shadow. At about 6:40 PM, after about ten hour and thirty kilometers, I was in the parking place a little bit tired but light and free!
After a well-deserved supper pause at the near small village we went home, but now you know the rest of the story...
I would like to thanks with Nicola for him preciuos company that never bore ad always is bright and stimulate our chat. Many thanks Nicola!
From yesterday I'll bring with me the lightness of the fatigue when you passed a good time with a good person, when you walk on a crest mountain top by mountain top, when the moon signed you the road with the cold kiss of the night chilly keep you company. For me few things are precious like this and very few are better than this!
Good bye,

Mio


PS: This time there are not the traditional large photo gallery because the time wasn't very good!

Close To The Edge -Yes

Hi people,

here I am, I have been listening intensively since three weeks my last Yes album, Close To The Edge, and it hasn't stuffed me this meaning for me that it is a really good album then I have decided to write some personal opinion on it, maybe I'll persuade someone to listen it!
First of all it is important find for this album a place in the infinite sky of rock music, this place is the piebald galaxy of progressive rock. At this two last words someone will stop to read this post, I know this sort of rock is heavy to listen but for me it is very delicious if you find the patience to listen it.
But now let's return to talk about Close To The Edge, it has composed of three songs, this is terrible for people that come from a nowadays pop-rock because because it means that each song has an enormous length, don't worry about this! Every song, like every progressive-rock song is organize in more movement, like in classical music, where music themes change from a beginning to an ending. The three songs are:

1. "Close to the Edge" (Jon Anderson, Steve Howe) – 18:42
   • "The Solid Time of Change"
   • "Total Mass Retain"
   • "I Get Up I Get Down"
   • "Seasons of Man" (song sample - 176K)
2. "And You and I" (Anderson; Themes by Bill Bruford, Howe, Chris Squire) – 10:09
   • "Cord of Life"
   • "Eclipse" (Anderson, Bruford, Howe)
   • "The Preacher the Teacher"
   • "Apocalypse"
3. "Siberian Khatru" (Anderson; Themes by Anderson, Howe, Rick Wakeman) – 8:55

Now you can see the enormous length :-).
If you are an entrant of prog-rock and you want approach to it I advise you to try to listen several times the second song if you like it maybe you will like every Yes's song and more other progressive rock band.
And You And I it's form me the best song in this album, when I have listen it first time I have felt the atmosphere that every excellent song had risen in me to put it better I understand that
I haven't listen a song but I have felt it, it's difficult to explain it for me but I hope that you have understand my thought, right now (it is a curious coincident or I am very very slow when I write in English :-)) I am "feeling" the movement The Preacher The Teacher, it's fantastic how the fairy voice of Anderson follow the music the became voice and voice music!
The other songs of the album are also interesting but I have founded it a little bit more difficult to listen immediately, but this is only my personal opinion. Anyhow the beautiful of this album in general is enclose in it dreaming, soft and ethereal atmosphere that you can find in the pictures of the cover, the dreaming Yes's Atmosphere!!!
See you soon,

Mio

Cima Telegrafo

Hi dears readers,

this morning is my very pleasure talk to you of my last trekking tour, that yesterday took me on Cima Telegrafo a mountain top in Baldo group mountain that is the last group mountains in north east part of Italy, close to Garda Lake, before Pianura Padana (the biggest plain in the north of Italy).
Yesterday morning at 7.00 AM I was waiting my friend Nicola ready for execute the diabolic trekking plain that Saturday evening we planned start from almost four possibility that Nicola have found on some guide maps. After about one hour were in the parking place of Prada Alta, a very small village over Brenzone on Garda Lake, ready to go.
Soon the pave road it changed into a dirt road encircled of ochre fall grass field, ancient farms observed us with severe curiosity from the both sides of road. The sun had some trouble to break down the morning mist but we were sure that after it's going to keep us company.
After about thirty minutes we was on a hill top where we can saw hill cling south side of Garda Lake, behind our back the mountain top was waiting us. We passed through a secular beech tree wood, at its end we found the cold kiss of autumnal wind to gave us the welcomed. We were at mountain refuge Mondini, fall grass field were all over around us our chat were continued about the maximum system that rule the world... soon Nicola had observed that we brought back to talked to the same one. Today thought at yesterday smart chat I'm agree with him! :-)
After about thirty we were at the mountain refuge Fiori del Baldo, the air were become chilly and blew heavy then ever, it was a fresh breath of life for my plumb and a recharge for my brain. Meanwhile Nicola had caressed Meggie a big S. Bernardo that kept a sleeping guard to the refuge. We were ready to gone to the next stage, Cima Telegrafo waiting for us.
The wind kept us company, the bright and always interesting chats have forgotten us the chilly new strange and unexpected scenarios recompensed our fatigue. We were arrived on mountain top, Cima Telegrafo, with a great satisfaction! Unfortunately for us the mountain refuge of Cima Telegrafo, G. Barana, was close and Nicola was hungry like a shark after an entire year of starve! Fortunately for him I have brought for both some delicious (?) cake that I have cuisine the day before (I'll post the recipe soon). Maybe I have appeared to his eyes like a sort of magic, big, bearded and talked S.Bernardo that gave him cake instead a good small barrel of liqueur... a terrible NIGHTMARE!!! I hope that you have appreciated it. After some pictures we have been on the return path, the sky have been clear and bright our step have become a little bit more heavy but we haven't cared less of this. Before we have left the last mountain refuge Fiori del Baldo, we have entered to took a good mountain elixir Nicola advise me to tried a drink called Bombardino (a bad translation sound like small bomber), it is a bomb, if you have occasion will try it!
When Bombardino has become to do its effect (about twenty second after last sip), we have been ready to left the refuge. On the way of return we have decided to took another path trust on our orientation faculty (we have remembered last "triumphant"excursion but not the first one :-)), after too many kilometers for come back, we have realized that we have token a wrong path! Our (? :-)) mood anyhow have been high, and after thirty minutes we have found the right path! On a hill top near a ancient farm a beautiful and breathtaking sunset on Garda Lake has full my eyes, we enjoy it for ten minutes after that red, blue, yellow, violet have been substitute by dark eyes of a young evening ready to dress the cloth of a wonderful night. At about 5.00 PM we were in the parking place, mood & happy!
I would like another time thanks to Nicola for his good company his bright and smart point of view on everything and in particular on the only system that rule the world :-). With you every tour isn't boring. (maybe it could be idiot or stupid... ;-)). Finally I would thanks to him for tolerate my sunset-photos-sick (an hold personal pathology) that has brought me to take hundreds and hundreds narcissist and not photos when the sunny down! Many thanks Nicola!!!
Yesterday I really enjoy, with this trip I have erase almost all of heavy things that have touched me during the week, nothing new just old thought that I hope some day stop to torture me. Yesterday I lost many times the Time dimension and this mean for me that I have stop it in my memories!
Good bye,

Mio

Red -King Crimson

Hi blogger,
today I would like present you an album that recently I have discovered again and I have very appreciate. This is Red a King Crimson's album. King Crimson are a progressive rock band that was born in the end of '60, it was very popular since its first release album (The court of the Crimson King) where we can find almost pure that this band and in particular its leader, Robert Fripp, will bring ahead until now even if the composition of band have change many times during the years. What I have found fantastic in King Crimson are first of all the delicacy of some song and the magnificent power of other! I don't want be high hat, but for my experience (first of all I have proved it on me) this band it is not easy to listen, but don't demoralize if you try to hang it there you'll be recompensed! Of course this is only my personal opinion!
Let's back again to Red, I want to advise it to you just for two (of fours) good, dreaming, delicate and why not romantic songs: Fallen Angel and Starless. Who people that have never listened some progressive rock surely hear the songs very strange and maybe they will ask to their self: "Where are delicate, romanticism, dreaming..." unfortunately I can't show to you. Every time that I have listened it I like stop for a while rise the volume and put on my headphones and listen, every time the time dimension fairly change at in the end I feel better. Because I have done a trip in memories and a trip in my hopes!
Someone could thing that my toughs, my words doesn't have sense I image it but fortunately only this...
See you soon blogger, if you have the occasion listen this album maybe you will appreciate it!

Mio



PS: There are another two good songs: Red and Providence. Both are quite complicated to listen, maybe are a mirror of the pure King Crimson's progressive songs.

Pernici's Mountain Refuge

Hi to everyone,

here we are in the middle of fall season, fortunately the weather save us days where we can still enjoy the beautiful of a nature that play to became old and die before born to a new life.
Yesterday morning I gone with my friend Nicola to Nino Pernici's refuge, it is a small and pretty refuge that overlooking on the west side Busa. We departe at 7:00 AM from my home without destination but after a very long discussion, about 2 minutes, we were agree. In 30 minutes we have arrived to Mezzolago in Ledro valley with rucksack on back ready to go. Soon our chat left place to a deep and persistent short of breath, we have asked to the other, with smiling face, who have had that morning the good idea to depart from there... meanwhile the climb have gone on but this didn't stops our conversation that have returned to keep company.
After one hour, we have arrived to Bocca di Dromaè. Busa was opposite from us and Ledro valley was behind us, we have arrived on the path that will bring us to Pernici's refuge, the cold kiss of Fall's wind have remembered us that were batter walk and never stop.
We have followed the path that remain in quote (about 1500 mt.) and after about one hour we were set down on a bench outside Pernici's mountain refuge (unfortunately it were closed!!!). The sun have hidden behind the clouds we have disappointed. After we have eaten our minimal packet lunch we have ready to come back. When we have arrived to Bocca Saval curiosity have knock (again like every time) to our mind so we have decided to take a new path for the return. Then with a map in the hands we was ready to lost, like almost time, in the mountain... :-) . The sun have become to show its pale cold face, the afternoon become bright we have relaxed on the field, the wind have become gently and the silence have had the voice of the shoal grass move by the wind. It was the soft voice of autumn that sang a delicate song for us. We won't depart from there! After a while we were in the naked wood, on the return way, where some last anarchist and egoist trees tried to keep their leafs for them gift us the very last beautiful autumn colors before the wind and chilly will blow all away.
After about seven (!!!) hours we were at the parking ready to come back to home, were waiting us a good wine and some maroon. What I will wish more from yesterday? NOTHING!
What I remember jet of yesterday? The Fall's song that sang with the soft and gently voice of the wind through grass, that sang the whisper of leafs that fell down like a red-yellow rain that didn't dip, that didn't came from a beautiful sky.
Thanks to Nicola for good and peerless company and everything else!!!
Say good bye,

Mio

Mio's No Knead Bread

Hi people,

here I am with another cuisine recipe I have found it on the web when I've looked for bread recipes. When I have found a rapid and easy one I have told to myself: "This one is for me!". The recipe is called No Knead Bread, (you can find an Italian recipe version on Passione&Cucina )
I call my sort of bread Mio's No Knead Bread because I didn't able to obtain a good result with the original recipe so I have changed the original recipe from time to time. I have felt like the Muffin Man in a Frank Zappa's song :-) .

Let's start with the ingredients:

• 225 gr. of Manitoba flour

• 225 gr. of wheat white flour type "00"

• 280 gr. of water

• 6 gr. yeast (not the powder one)

• 8 gr. of salt

Now we can pass to the procedure:

1. Put in a big bowl, if it is possible with a cover, the two types of flour and salt then mix all together this ingredientes.
2. Take a big cup and put in it the water then heat it until 30 °C -40 °C then put in it all the yeast then mix with a spoon.
3. Put all the cup content in the bowl then knead until the dough will be homogeneous and supple.
4. Cover the bowl and put it aside. The place must be room temperature.
5. After six hour pour the dough on a work top cover with a thin layer of flour then shaped the dough folding each of the four side to the center (like to obtain a letter from a sheet).
6. Overrule upside down the dough then cover it with a dishcloth and wait other six hour.
7. Switch on the oven at 200 °C and put in it the pan. When it will reach the temperature put on pan some bran flour put in it the dough then cove the pan and bake.
8. After almost 30 minutes you have obtained the Mio's No Knead Bread!!! :-)

Now that the my secret is disclose you can expired YOUR'S no knead bread to changing type of flour (integral, bran, ...), quantity of yeast or everything else.
Now I say good bye because I must go to switch on the oven Mio's no Knead breads are waiting for me!!!

Mio



PS: I call my bread with my nickname only because the of ingredients change from the original dose recipe and the rise time with my bread is the half of the original one. I don't want its paternity.

The Power of Music

Hi blogger,
recently I have listen some "old" album. Album that keep me company especially during this last year and before. One more time I have been surprised for the strange kind of magic that the music have on me. (maybe it is the same for you...)
Music, for me, have the funny and interesting property to tie with memories and hide in them like the stars in a sunny day, in apparently there are no stars, in apparently there are only memories.

When I listen music I fly with it, I know that it can seem stupid or exaggerate, I fly though the time and the space on sky painted of piebald or sad memories. Listen music I can see an old friend away from me, I can see myself young, I can feel a sensation that will repeat but not for this is dead. It's is wonderful!

Now I am listening Willy the Pimp in a while I'm in faculty it's evening maybe too late, I have work on my thesis. Now I am listening Yo' Mama it's raining I am alone only a river keep me company with its deep roar. Now I am listening Island, Black Napkins, Watermelon in Easter Hay, Ogre Battle, The End, Manà, Anyway the Wind Blows, 21th Century Schizoid Man, Little Wings, Nuestros Sueños, Cool Cat, Jealous Guy, Quando Sarò Capace d'Amare, a "stupid" cellphone ringing tone... and so on and on.
All this songs (and many others) evoke in me memories that generate sensation trough it I can touch, see, savor, heard, sniff of people, landscape, voices lost in time, space and hearth!
This is for me the great power of music, a good or bad trip in myself down in the deep tuck of memories close to my inner self, close to my pains close to my pleasure!
Camaron is singing SOY GITANO: "...y una guitarra y tus ojos ay al laito de una candela...", GRANDE MOMENTO!
Good bye music lover .


Mio


"Colour is the keyboard, the eyes are the harmonies, the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is the hand that plays, touching one key then another to cause vibration in the soul"

Vassily Kandinsky

Picture: Painting becomes music - by Vassily Kandisky

Memories

Hi to everyone,

it's long time that I would like post some personal thoughts about memories.
What are memories? It is a long period that I ask this to myself more and more times, I have arrived to my personal conclusion.
I think that memories are the most incredible think that life gift us. They are beautiful, unique, perfect and shining pictures that anyone will bring in his mind and his heart like the most loved friend. Memories make you laugh now and will laugh you within many years for their strange and curious thinks, your mind quickly flies through the years and the space on the light silver wings of memories, you can see people, places and feel emotions just closed your eyes. You can escape from this reality to another one. In this new reality you can talk with a friend that is away from you, you can feel the soft caress of your partner's lips on yours, you can remember the place maybe now lost for ever. You can remember the first time that you make love you can feel a shiver down your spine like years ago. You can touch, talk and laugh with people that now aren't by you, some for the strange jokes of life some other because fly away forever. All this things are for me memories but not only this...
For me they are also deep, fresh or ancient, unique, perfect and gloomy scars on my soul I'll bring it in me forever and ever. They sometimes come to met me, sometimes scream with word of pain to tell me that there are an open wound and they make me travel through the time and the space in place emotion that I would have liked never faded. Sometimes I go to them when the thoughts came to get me to bring me down and down through my soul and with a soft touch them push my hand softly on its scars, then my fingertips touch just for a while the lost world that I have believed forgot.
Memories you are paintbrush that paint plained bright pictures, paintbrush that scratch tender soul. Memories, you are the most beautiful sign that someone have lived, that someone is alive!
See you soon,

Mio


Pictures: The persistence of Memory - by Salvador Dalì

Il sergente nella neve. Ritorno sul Don -Mario Rigoni Stern

Salve a tutti,

oddio cosa sta succedendo? Sto scrivendo in italiano? Ebbene sì, il perché di questa decisione che sarà forse isolata, è ben ponderata. Parlare di questo eccellente libro in inglese sarebbe stato usargli una violenza che sicuramente non merita ed inoltre le riflessioni e gli spunti che ha generato in me sarebbero stati difficilmente esprimibili con parole ancora troppo straniere. Ben inteso non che i miei pensieri siano un granché ma sarebbero stati ancora peggiori!

L'avvicinamento a questo libro, se così si può dire, da parte mia deriva da un malinteso che ha fatto si che io arrivassi a possederne due copie, lo stimolo nel leggerlo deriva da un'altra storia ancora... . Comunque sia ero curioso di assaggiare questo libro da molti definito come ottimo e tra i più belli tra quelli scritti da Rigoni Stern e tra i migliori libri trattanti la ritirata italiana dal fronte russo nel 1943.
Prima di tutto vorrei dire cosa non mi piace: niente. Quindi fino alla fine del post sottintenderò "ho veramente apprezzato"! In prima istanza lo stile dell'autore asciutto, semplice, lineare ed immediato. Poche parole ricercate, a tal punto che talvolta sembrano davvero poche, non levano poesia al pensiero, quando riprendi il fiato tra un capoverso e l'altro ti ritrovi nella mente un'immagine fissa e limpida, forse semplice nei tratti ma fisicamente tangibile. La vicenda narrata, derivata dall'esperienza diretta dell'autore, sergente degli alpini sul fronte russo proprio durante la tragica ritirata del '43. Sicuramente per questo ogni momento, ogni sensazione sia dolore fisico che o sconforto psicologico, risultano forti e vividi così come i compagni di sventura, i contadini russi delle izbe l'infinita distesa bianca della steppa russa innevata, la dove come dice l'autore:"Le stelle si congiungono alla terra".
Ripensando a questo libro ho notato una cosa stranissima: posso dire di avere in mente i visi delle persone, dei compagni d'armi anche se raramente Rigoni Stern ne delinea la fisionomia. Sarà forse perché ne delinea, sempre in punta di penna, il carattere attraverso espressioni o comportamenti suscitando in chi legge immagini perse nei ricordi del proprio vissuto diretto od indiretto.
In questa sede non vorrei parlare della trama del libro o dei suoi episodi particolari che hanno suscitato in me sorpresa e delle fonti di riflessione profonda, di questo solamente vorrei parlare. Spero che mi possiate capire.
Indignazione! E' la parola che descrive al meglio i miei sentimenti alla fine della lettura di questo libro. Indignazione perché la stupidità dell'uomo partorisce ancora figli deformi e degeneri come la guerra. Figli che nessuno vuole che poveri donne e uomini devono portare sulle loro spalle, morire per loro, perdere affetti, generare orfani, mutilare gambe e braccia, sfigurare volti. Indignazione perché niente non è cambiato ora succede in Africa, in Medio Oriente, in tutto il mondo così come allora oggi forse peggio d'allora. Ben inteso, non che questo libro mi abbia fatto aprire gli occhi su tutto ciò, ma mi ha fatto capire e forse in parte arrendere all'idea che forse l'uomo ritornerà sempre a comportarsi come la peggiore delle bestie. L'unica bestia dotata di una magnifica sorprendente ragione, la sola bestia dalla quale NESSUNO può scappare quando ragione viene addormentata dall'egoismo, dall'ignoranza e dal denaro!
Prima ho detto: "forse l'uomo ritornerà a comportarsi come la peggiore delle bestie". Ho usato il forse perché in me c'è sempre una speranza o meglio un'utopia. Spero che qualcuno un giorno assisterà al ritrovamento di questa chimera possibile di nome pace. Posso sembrare un illuso sognatore romantico idealista, si lo sono. Ma sono anche realista e la mia speranza viene da delle vicende che sono narrate nella battaglia di Nikolajewka; la dove la la morte si prese quasi tutti i compagni dello scrittore, la dove varcare la porta di una casa, quando all'esterno infuria la battaglia e la pietà non esiste, è come entrare in un mondo di chimere possibili, di sole distopie irrealizzabili!
Oggi come allora il mondo brulica di piccole, grandi, famose e sconosciute Nikolajewka. Lo è stato per noi qui in Europa a qualche centinaio di chilometri dalla mia terra non meno di dieci anni fa nell'ex-Jugoslavia in Europa nel suo cuore! Allora si sono chiusi gli occhi allora fin tanto che si poteva, ma poi il bagliore delle bombe era troppo forte e non si poteva voltare più lo sguardo altrove, anche se troppo tardi! Lo è ora in mille e mille altri posti al mondo, forse non vediamo il bagliore delle bombe, forse non ne sentiamo le fragorose deflagrazioni ... forse qualcosa come allora più di sessant'anni ci fa guardare altrove! Purtroppo per chi conta è così, per chi vorrebbe contare resta il dolore negli occhi, il suono di morte nelle orecchie, un nero pesante cupo sconforto nel cuore! Sì, sono indignato perché sento e vedo, perché non posso fare niente da solo, perché sono consapevole che solo la società può imporre la Ragione su tutto. Sono arrabbiato perché sono forte come tanti altri che condividono i miei stessi sentimenti, e come loro sono imprigionato in un corpo che non può fare niente perché il cervello che lo comanda purtroppo non sta usando completamente la Ragione o forse l'ha già persa!
Lo so ho parlato poco di questo libro. L'ho fatto volutamente, perché deve essere letto e vissuto! Per me è stato un balzo indietro nei racconti dei miei nonni, un balzo nelle espressioni che loro usano correntemente, ritornare ad altri tempi. Posso dire che questo libro ora mi permane nella mente lasciando un lungo intenso sapore di disillusione, speranza. Spero che, a chi come me, ha avuto o avrà il privilegio di leggere questo libro, potrà ricevere almeno un briciolo di consapevolezza in più sulle tragedie umane generate dalle guerre ogni giorno generando una profonda indignazione!
Goya disse:"Il sonno della ragione genera mostri". E' proprio vero, chissà quando l'uomo comincerà a vegliare sulla propria Ragione, chissà!
Alla prossima,

Mio


PS1: Vista la sterminata lunghezza del post credo che nessuno rimpiangerà i miei English-post :-) quindi...

PS2: I would like apologize with English language people that have read my blog (if there are some) for this italian-post, but its contain some thoughts that I hardly could express in English!

Foto: Il sonno della ragione genera mostri - by Goya

Stivo Mountain

Hi trekking friends and not,

fall is knocking to our door, wind is its voice sometimes scream sometimes whisper, some threes are frightened and drops their piebald leafs some other try to hang in but soon will surrender to the gently caress of cold, only the rough trees hang in until spring their will bring with their strong harm the heavy touch of snow for gift us soft, strange, bizarre and paled mountain.
... after this bad introduction (in Italian it would have been batter...), I would like talk to you about my last trekking hike, yesterday I was with Nicola on Stivo mountain one of the mountain that encircled Busa and at its foots there is my village. We departed at 7:00 AM from my home to Santa Barbara once arrived after 20 minutes we were ready to went to the top.
The morning was bright, the chilly wind with a cloud paintbrush drew odd shape in the sky the sun of the morning colored of gold, rose and red. It's worth it got up early yesterday!
Soon when we were out of the wood we found the chilly kiss of wind on our face and talked each other about all things that pass through our mind we walked to the mountain top.
After about two hour we were inside the mountain refuge with a warm rum-punch in the hand and a flaming fireplace that kept us a good company! After half hour we felt warm and dry again and we were ready to went down. The wind that before we felt like a kiss become a quite gently slap, but we didn't worth it or batter maybe we pretended that it was not a problem... :-)
After took some pictures we were on the path of return with some sheeps and horses that didn't care of the chilly wind and kept us company. After about one we were at the parking that in meantime it was fulling of cars of lazy or wise hiker (depend of point of view :-))!
Unfortunately the wind had stolen most of all leafs from the broad-leaved trees and the color was lost in field... I'll waiting for the yellow of larch for take some photos hoping that I'll anticipate the wind!
Before leaving you I would like to thanks to Nicola first of all for his gloves without it surely I can't write now! And second, but not in importance order, for the good,bright and smart company! Many thanks Nicola!
See you soon to everyone,

Mio

PS: soon as possible I'll post some landscape... I don't know why my panorama stitch program doesn't work well this evening!

2 Fast & Yummy Starter

Hi ladies and gentlemen,
here I am with other cuisine recipe two yummy fast starter that can save you when hungry is big, you don't want cook, your fridge is empty and anyway you don't want the always (in Italy of course) the same pasta or risotto.
Well, let's start with this two simple recipes:

PASTA WITH PESTO ALLA GENOVESE AND GORGONZOLA:

Ingredients: (for two people, if it's possible you might never eat alone...)

• 200gr. of pasta better if the type is Fusilli or Penne Rigate (I don't know the traslation)
• 50gr. Pesto alla genovese
• 150gr. Gorgonzola
  

Procedure:

• Cook the pasta in abundant salted water
• When the cooking is over bolt down pasta and put it again in the pot the pasta then add pesto alla genovese and gorgonzola with a very little bit of butter then mix all together keeping fire low
• Serve it, if you prefer, with grated grana
  

RISOTTO WITH PESTO ALLA GENOVESE AND GORGONZOLA:

Ingredients: (for two people, if it's possible you might never eat alone...)

• 150-200gr. of rice
  
• One little onion
  
• 50gr. Pesto alla genovese
• 150gr. Gorgonzola
• 50gr. of grana
  
• Little bit of butter

Procedure:

• Cook the rice like a traditional risotto
  
• When the cooking is over, after about 13 minutes, put in the pot with risotto pesto alla genovese and gorgonzola with butter and grated grana then mix all together for two minutes be careful you must turn off the fire.
  
• Serve it, with if you prefer, add again grated grana

I hope that this two simple recipes will aid whenever you don't know what cuisine and your fridge is sad like your humor! I don't know where this two recipes come from their aren't a mine creation anyway I would like apologize with all genoa's people for the violence that I had suggest in this post on their magnificent sauce!
Good bye,

Mio

PS: If you want some clarification on this recipes contact me, I'll very glad to aid you!

Talking about LOVE

Hi to everyone,

Yesterday I talked about love with a dear friend, we was in disagreement.
About love many years ago a young wise man has told:

Love is real, real is love
Love is feeling, feeling love
Love is wanting to be loved

Love is touch, touch is love
Love is reaching, reaching love
Love is asking to be loved

Love is you
You and me
Love is knowing
We can be

Love is free, free is love
Love is living, living love
Love is needing to be loved

The wise man was John Lennon and I agree with him but love form is also give freedom, respect and affiliation in the way that Gaber has expressed with: "Dire un'altra volta NOI!", that in English could sound like: "Tell one more time WE!".
I aware that isn't a little or rather is all but this is my personal way to live LOVE!
Say good bye,

Mio

New Mio's Blog Layout

Hi to every one,
finally after many troubles I realized my personal layout page. I have started from a Demin template and added a new left column like I have found in Internet at this very good blog [1] than I had added some new widget, tips and personal option like the possibility to change some blog's color part. I am not completely satisfied of my work but it is quite near to my definetive project please waiting a little bit! Then you can consider this my new template like a beta version that will be the official also with YOUR APPRECIATE advice and opinion!
I had insert a translation tool improved by Google which translate from English to your own lenguage, I had insert the most popular languages I apologize if your is not present!
Italian's blogger that read my post can think: " Finally he will start to write in Italian, and I understand what he does mean!". Sorry, my terrible English will keep still company! Sorry... :-)
Moreover, I think that this new too will be a new entertainment internet-toy with you can laugh about the English-to-Italian translation seeing my wonderful mistake! Anyhow, when I'll write a post in Italian the not Italian people can translate it to English and than to their own language (I think that this trick will work) and maybe you understand batter than when I write my English post!
I hope that all new widgets, links and everything else part work well, if it isn't please tell me! Please tell me all ideas that you have for customize my new layout! If you like to use it you can find my HTML code here.
Good bye,

Mio


Reference:
[1] http://tips-for-new-bloggers.blogspot.com/

I hate crunch!!!

Hi guys,
I've got a terrible backache and I walk like Robocopt with the only difference that he didn't use the crunch! Yesterday was a beautiful day for went out and took some autumn pictures of this wonderful color and took a deep breath of fresh mountain air and ...!!! Sh...!

I will feel batter next week and anyhow there will be others goods days for go out we are just in fall!
See you soon (I hope without crunch)!

Mio

Studio Tan - Frank Zappa

Hi bloggers,
here I am with a new album experience, a "new" Frank Zappa's album; Studio Tan.
This time like the last one (remember?) I am quite let down of this album. Like the last time I haven't found songs that have excite me! Maybe now it's time to take a pause (very little) from FZ for dedicate to other good musicians.
Camed back to Studio Tan, this album is compose of four songs:

1. "The Adventure of Greggery Paccary" – 20:40
2. "Revised Music For Guitar and Low-Budget Orchestra" – 7:36
3. "Lemme Take You To The Beach" – 2:44
4. "RDNZL" – 8:12

This structure in term of length of songs, especially the first one, may put away you from the "endeavour" to continue to listen this album but hang in there, with Frank you can find always some precious strange song. I had found one song that I have appreciate and it is the last one: RDNZL. It is an instrumental song that I had found particular and vivid in its structure that it isn't complex. The song's structure is a uninterrupted change of themes and instrument too with frequent change of execution time... very "particular" song!
See you soon to the next music experience,

Mio


PS: Music Is the Best (F.Z.)

Some new photos update...

Hi to every one,
with this post I want tell you that there are some new photos in my galleries. I hope that it enjoy you!
See you,

Mio

New photos:
http://robertomiorelli.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-home-la-busa.html
http://robertomiorelli.blogspot.com/2007/09/torri-del-latemar-latemarturme.html
http://robertomiorelli.blogspot.com/2007/10/altissimo.html

Trentino Strudel

Hi to every unpaid cooks (like me),

It's a fairly time that I don't post a cuisine receipt then here I am!
This time, like the last one, I will suggest you a secret Miorelli's family receipt the G.'s strudel (Is my grandmother). The very first strudel that I had ever appreciate!
First of all let's start with ingredients for the compound, that will bring to a pastry called pasta matta (crazy pastry), and the strudel: (For two strudel)

• one egg
• one spoon (of soup) of sugar
• about 300 gr. of flour
• one spoon (of soup) of olive's oil (better if it is extravergine)
• about 15 cl. of milk
• a little bit of salt
  
• walnut or pine nut (quantity to your taste)
  
• currant or raisin (quantity to your taste)
• about 1 kg of apples
• cinnamon or grated rind of lemon
• little bit of grated dry bread or dry biscuit
  

Let's pass now to the procedure:

1. Whisk in large terrine or bowl with a fork egg, salt, sugar, milk and oil until the dough is "homogeneous"
   
2. Add flour (not all 300gr.) until it became rather compact. It must remove by itself from the bowl then put the dough on a worktop it with flour until it do not stick on it. Now you have obtain the pastry!
   
3. Cover it with the bowl at least 1-2 hours
   
4. While you are waiting skin the apples and slice it then cover with two or three spoon of sugar then take the walnuts mince it
   
5. Take the pastry and divide it in two equal pieces then with a rolling pin stretch it. The shape must be circular one. The compound must be thin! thinner it is better will result the strudel!
6. Put a little bit of dry grated bread on the stretch pastry and then take the apple's slice hold and drip it then put randomly on it the pastry must be almost cover; add walnuts, raisin and cinnamon
   
7. Roll on itself the "thing" :-) obtained in 6. until it is completely off then put on the top a little bit of butter then take it and put in oven for 30 minutes at 160 °C
8. If do you like, when it's going to be cold, put some icing sugar.
9. Finally you can relish your work of art's cuisine!!!

I hope that I was clear in this pseudo cuisine receipt, I will be helpful for any clarification! Right now I thing that my strudel is over... this afternoon or this evening I'll do it thus my tomorrow morning will be more sweeter!!!
I hope that you enjoy and intrigue!
Good bye to every one,

Mio

PS: This receipt is for typical Trentino- Alto Adige strudel not the other one!!! Unfortunately I haven't pictures of it, maybe in the future I'll add it to this post.

Altissimo Mountain

Hi bloggers and not,
this morning I get up early like every day and with my cup of coffee and milk I go out on the balcony I stayed there for three second because I felt a the chilly morning air bite my face. I remember this summer in the early morning when it was a pleasure stop me there and listen, observe and think... now the woods are becoming red, yellow and brown maybe the woods feel ashamed because know that within few days it will be naked; some birds are departed for search warm place to sped their autumn and winter, the sun is becoming more shiny every day more showing its face little bit late day by day the autumn is coming!!!
Thinking at this season mutation I would like post you the impression that I had last Sunday when with Nicola and me went on Monte Altissimo a mountain above the Garda lake where you can enjoy the beautiful view of the meridional part of Trentino-Alto Adige. (Busa included).
We departed above Nago and took a dirt road in the wood after thirty minutes of walk we were in green field with the gently sun of the morning that keep us a good warm company. We were chatting walking and observing all around the nature the place and after one hour we were on the top at mountain refuge D. Chiesa. Here were waiting us the traditional trekking's tea with alcohol or not only its hot flow through the throat it's a pleasure and a incentive to go out again if the water isn't good!
After a while we was out on the mountaintop enclosed to the beautiful ring of mountain and lake here some photos were duty! Then we were ready to come back home. We decided to took a new path for come back and since I always trust in Nicola (although we are lost again) I followed him like a blind person follow her dog... unfortunately my dog was blind too (:-))... we were not lost but we were out of the path among mughi (type of pine's three) only a "brave" and funny downhill trought this sort of wood we'll bring us to the right path. After thirty minutes some falls and many scratches we were down on the right path now we must went up again for took the path that will brought home... we had got change the name of the mountain from Altissimo (highest) to Lunghissimo (longest), we were the only people at world that were able to extend the downhill more than the climb!!! But doesn't matter because I understand that Nicola is not an excellent orientiring compainion but I know that a third time I'll follow him anyway because I know that I'll enjoy! :-P
Finnaly we were at the car ready to lunch ready to seeing the pictures (unfortunately not mine because my digital camera doesn't work!!!!).
I would like to thanks to Nicola for the tour and especially for the funny deviation (:-)) but more for her company! I advise anyone who will came in Busa to go on Altissimo and if you will take a special short cut contact me, I'll talk with pleasure to Nicola, he always will find one for you!!!
See you,

Mio