Racing cars and flat noodles

My last group left before the sun even.  It is hard to get so close to people, and then boom, they don’t show up for dinner anymore and you wonder how you will ever get through the next week without them and halfway down the dirt road I just have to pull the car over and collect myself.  In the evening though, that very same Saturday evening, more people come and I feel like I have got to be one of the luckiest people in the world with all the amazing people that find their way to cook with me.  Last night I almost didn’t make it back to class because Ferdinand and Jonathan took me out for our favorite pizza in Perugia. It is cooked in a wood burning oven by two guys from Naples. On the way there and without warning, all the roads were blocked.  It can happen in Italy like that, which can be good and bad for your system depending on how badly you need to get on a train or turn on a light or cross a road.  A frustrated plumber called the police and all the ropes were torn down so we got through in the end and even saw a few of the antique cars that were racing from Rome to somewhere, with their tops down and silk skarves flying and goggles and looking like they had not a care in the world.  I on the other hand had to get back to roll out the pasta with a massive rolling pin, starting with hand and going right up to the elbow, because bruises or no you have to do what you have to do to get it right.

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