Kratak, odzvanjajući zvuk zvona, vezanih za vratove ovaca odjekivao je kroz svetlozelenu dolinu, razbijajući maglu koja se prolivala kroz grožđe, narušavajući tišinu koja je obavila selo prethodnih dana. Zategla je čvor crne marame na glavi i, nakon što se uverila da ovce neće napustiti proplanak okružen vinogradima i niskim, žbunastim drvećem, lagano je savila glavuContinue reading “Putovanje kroz Istočnu Srbiju #1 : Imaj malo vere”
Short but resonant, repetitive sound of bells, tied around sheep necks echoed across the light green valley breaking the fog shedding over grapes, disturbing the silence that occupied the village in the past days. She tightened up the knot of her black head scarf and, after making sure sheep are not leaving the glade surroundedContinue reading “Road trip Eastern Serbia #1 : Have some faith”
The noise of weapons and arms rattling against each other was getting louder and louder as she was approaching the window on the western side of the castle. She barely slept that night, ever since she heard Ghibellines retreated to the hillock near her house, escaping the Guelph army that overtook the Colle castle thatContinue reading “Sapia Salvani”
„Why are there no old, damaged buildings? City old as this one should have few of them, shouldn’t it?“ said Z’s grandpa, mostly to himself, which broke the silence we enjoyed for few canals now, walking and staring at the perfect, tall and thin, brick buildings and soaking its every detail. By saying this, itContinue reading “Perfect life calling”
“O Dio” was all he creaked from time to time, whenever we crossed some bump on the road, along with a load of Holy Marie’s, St. Lucia’s and other Italian Saints in the same package the moment we got on one of the cobblestone streets during our ride.
For all Italians, especially Neapolitans (who are a different breed), multiple, daily income of coffee is, more than anything, a matter of lifestyle. The main idea is for coffee to be short, strong, and creamy, which is why the bar is always crammed with people downing their coffee fast, al volo(on the run) and rushing out. It’s a part of Holy Trinity of Italians, as I call it, 1-Drink only wine and water with your meal and NEVER order tap water; 2-Do not put ketchup on pasta/pizza(little less pineapple you rascal); 3-Take your coffee in two sips standing up.
Have you ever heard of sfogliatella? It’s a sweet pastry, filled with soft, white, cheesy cream and tastes as heaven. I am not exaggerating. Literally heaven on a plate. Sfogliatella is made by dozen of thin layers of puff pastry hugging and covering the soft filling and it’s a proud product of south of Italy. Italy and Sicily in particular is like a big sfogliatella, with so many layers of diversity, in culture, people, dialects, food all covering the unique warm Italian soul and a charm that no one is immune to.
25 years ago, shortly after mom returned home and I was born, war started, displacing people and territories, leaving everything and everyone devastated, my grandfather tragically died and my dad decided to return to his village and never leave again, watching the rest of their money melt into alcohol, while drowning slowly in his sorrow. Mom stood by her family and shortly after added a single mother to her housewife status.