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meatballs tuna salad with carrots, beets, oregano cutter and peel The Scents of orange orchard


For about 10 meatballs


400g fresh tuna 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil 50g of pine nuts and raisins

1 teaspoon dried oregano
a lot 'of salt and pepper parsley

50g parmesan but also less
1-2 tablespoons of bread crumbs 2 eggs

rind and juice of an orange

Coarsely chop the pine nuts.
Cut the tuna into small cubes.
Heat the oil in a pan with the pine nuts until they are golden then add the raisins, oregano and pepper and cook for two minutes then remove from heat and pour into a container that can hold all the other ingredients.
Add the tuna, parsley, eggs lightly beaten, Parmesan, bread crumbs, the juice and orange peel and knead gently with your hands without "squeezing" tuna.
If the dough becomes too soft add more bread crumbs.
At this point, with meatballs.
The meatballs should not be spherical but flattened, so that cooking can be very, very short. In this way, the tuna will remain soft and fluffy.
For cooking oil, with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil, a frying pan as it becomes hot and quickly cook the meatballs, sprinkle with salt and pepper.
Place the meatballs on the plate and garnish with the arugula, the salad of carrots and beets and its sauce.
For the salad: 4-5
cook beets whole, medium sized, for 30/40 minutes in boiling water then peel and cut into cubes.
4-5 Peel carrots and cut into cubes.
Add the carrots and beets and season with the peel of an orange, a lot 'of fresh oregano, extra virgin olive oil, red wine vinegar and salt.

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What remains of a love

So far (33 years) I can say that he lived only three major stories: the present with the man I love and I married, but a short story that left me so pain in the heart (which was probably important only to me) and my first relationship, what I call "with my ex."

He is in my own country, I was 16 when we met and liked them after a while, he had 18, a fantastic character, always smiling, a lot of company, cheerful and fun.

E 'was the first report that showed me the heart beat, the one that gives you the chills when you hear a song that makes you write his name in huge letters on the diary: a love as a teenager.

E 'lasted six years, a period in which I can count on the fingers of one hand any discussions or arguments: two.

We had many similarities: they both hated the gestures "smielosi" in public, we liked to have fun together in what was "the company" had our moments alone, but I find very important not to isolate yourself from friends, who that age is really important. We were never jealous of each other (or at least not there so we never allowed), our relationship was based on complete trust and a strong mutual respect.

Then it's over. It 's over in an unusual way, looking back now I really wonder how we did.

I was 22 years, despite what the imperative to 2.30 I get home (mine are always pretty hard times ... Even on the evening of farewell to spinsterhood, and I was 28 years old, my father asked me the return time ...). As usual bar meeting of the weekend, the boys organized for a nightclub far enough, I knew I could never go, I would not be reimbursed for the hours, and so I told him that I would not have participated, but he was perfectly free to go, I did not want that, yet again, to give up something for me and my stupid schedule.

I do not know how, but that night I realized that our relationship I was close to two, I wanted freedom, not having to account to anyone, want to manage life without ties. And so the next day he and I talked. The impact was not the best ... We decided not to see us for a while, to assess whether we were really essential to each other.

And here the surprise happened. Two weeks later we met again ... And it was he to admit that our love was not ... was a wonderful, wonderful friendship.

I know that so it seems a phrase from the movie, but after 10 years I can confirm that between us there was and still is a strong feeling, but that can not be called love.

sussiteva The tricky part in being able to stay friends, but that the gossips and the teasing ruin everything. It 'been really difficult, he said they have seen me with who knows how many guys have told me that the evening went out and lost no opportunity to try it with any girl he happened ... All lies, and we are able to understand and not be tempted to lose respect for each other.

I can not say clearly how we did, but 6 years ago when I got married, he had to marry his current girlfriend, who, like my husband, after a moment of disbelief about our friendship, he understood very well that has nothing to be jealous.

And it's nice being able to tell that I've made, to be able to maintain this excellent relationship with a person you loved, with whom you shared an important part of your life, without falling into the abyss of the couples that leave. I'm proud of this and I thank him for so long that appreciates me, respects me and loves me.

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August 2, 1980

The 19 I made 3 years. I was a child in 1980 and can not say I really remember what happened on that tragic day. I only have an image imprinted in the minds

My

had an old black and white TV without remote control that night and followed the news even though I was present at the table and the images were not suitable for a child. I remember the big concern for a relative who was studying in Bologna, and we were able to trace only the next morning.

I remember many comments, the concern of my grandfather, who had lived through the war, the tears of my grandmother who recalled the horrors of the internal conflict he had lived at home with small children to be protected.

'm honest, I had no idea of \u200b\u200bthe seriousness of the act, only the picture of the station was destroyed ...

Then I started to live Bologna, I attended for fun, for work and also as a tourist, and from where I live, the easiest way to get there is by train.

The first time I arrived at the station in Bologna I was 17 and I have re-emerged as a flash image of the first 14 years, I remember having a thrill, to have had a very long time ... fear ... Fear that, as then, at any moment everything could collapse, the dust, the cries of the mangled bodies ...

30 years have passed by cowardly act and I can say I frequantato often the Bologna train station, but have never been able to stop in, especially in the year 2001. I was there for the fair Saie, and the entrances were so many controls, after what had happened in September does not leave anything to chance. On Sunday at 17 o'clock I got out of the taxi in the square 2 August 1980, just before the Bologna train station. I came, I bought a ticket for the return and I turned. The hall was crowded with people who came, who left, who were standing waiting for his train ... the same people who could be present that day exodus BEGINNING ...

Again the thrill, the anxiety, the made even stronger fear of the high risk attacks that breathed ... I left, I leaned against a pillar of the front porches ... Nor would there have been rescued, but the interior of the station I was suffocating ...

And now, years later, I remember the fear of that day, I wonder who they blame the victims of that massacre, it had to do with the evil plans of the authors of the massacre ... And a persistent question keeps coming back in the head .... WHY '?