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Lipovan pie

Lipovan pie

Rub the yeast in a bowl until it liquefies, pour it into the bowl with sifted flour, add salt, 2 beaten eggs, milk, stirring a little. If necessary, add a little more milk. We start to knead the dough by adding a little melted butter until it becomes an elastic dough. Cover the bowl and let it grow until it doubles in volume.

Meanwhile, in a bowl, mix the grated telemeau with fresh cheese, whole egg and beaten egg yolk and set aside. From the raised dough we make a roll, divide into equal portions then from each piece of dough we spread a sheet not too thin, we spread 2-3 tablespoons of cheese, we roll well then we cut from the roll equal barrels that we put in a round shape with baking paper, cut up. Do the same with the rest of the dough.

With the remaining butter, grease the sides of the pie pieces so that they don't stick together and beat the 2 eggs with sour cream and put a spoon on top. Leave it in the oven on low heat for 1 hour and after it has cooled, take it out, dust it with sugar and serve it.


Simona's World

Isn't something sweet going on. Today I serve you with an easy to prepare cake and tasty foooaarrtee!

20 comments:

Simo, I have a monster craving for cakes, and you post. cake :))
If I could I would snatch that slice from the picture !! :))

My appetizing darling, I would be happy to send you a large portion! Pup with love!

Look, I have the will and I eat the darling and you tempt me with cakes! If I make it tomorrow you are to blame :)

@Teo, do we trade ?! I wouldn't refuse a bowl of soup.
Many kisses

I have to make this delicious cake too because I haven't made a lot of it :)! Great! Kisses

Do you still have it for me, or did I end up breaking the fair?
Thousands of cravings when I see that chocolate.
Many kisses!

and how something sweet would work. you still have. I am on the road. very good .
Kiss,

@Flory, I can't believe I didn't do you another miracle !! :) Many kisses
@Mihaela, I make another cake especially for you !! Kiss
@Alexandra, I look forward to seeing you at a new cake! Kiss with pleasure

I came for dessert. Yammy, good!

I invite myself too. although I think it's over, by. I arrived late. I kiss you dearly!

I still have a slice left. looks very good.

Yummmi, it looks super good! As papa about 2 servings :)) Pup!

Exactly how I like it. yammy :). Kisses

How can I not want something sweet? Can I refuse such a goodness for the cake? :) Pup!

I also came for a portion, it's yummy :)

That's how I feel about a cream cake. But who can do it for me? :) :)

@Cristina, welcome to the cake! Kiss
@ Sara & ampMiki, with great pleasure I make another one for you! Many kisses
@Simona, for you a slice. bigger) Pup with love
@Haplea, thank you !!
@Danutza, 2 servings and for you! Kiss
@Maria, I knew I looked like ... Kisses :)
@Licuta, serve with pleasure! Many kisses
@Ramona Alina, welcome to the cake! Kiss
@Adina, mmm. maybe you're fooling someone .. :) Who's someone in the house ?! :)) Pup with love

If she is from Cluj, she is mine:) 100%. She looks delicious! Yammy. A beautiful weekend!

@Paradis, I don't know how Cluj she is. I just took the name :) !! But it's really good! Many kisses


Traditional brine fish brine recipe from the Danube & # 8211 carp brine

Fish brine traditional recipe from the Danube. How to make carp or other fish brine with polenta and sarmuzac? What fish do we use for brine? Carp, novac, crucian, redfish, bream or other freshwater or saltwater brine, baked on a hot plate with salt or grilled.

Our dear friend Mya Benea offered us this traditional recipe for fish brine from the Danube. She lives in Galati, on the banks of the Danube, and carp brine is often found in her family's menu. Spicy, garlicy fish brine, made with baked tomatoes and peppers and aromatic herbs. Fish brine made according to an old family recipe.

Traditionally, brine fish is baked in the open air on a plate sprinkled with salt. Possibly on a classic grill with embers. The picture belongs to our reader Vasile Barbu. After baking, remove the excess salt and continue the recipe.

The fish baked on a hot plate sprinkled with salt or on the grill, over a wood or charcoal fire has a special flavor, but what do we do in winter or when we live in a block of flats?

Well, we adapt the recipe and we manage with the pan and the stove & # 8230

Mya is also a moderator Urban Flavors Group on Facebook and delights us almost daily with culinary photos of the menus prepared by her. The other day he prepared this wonderful fish brine again and documented the recipe through step-by-step photos.

This dish can also be cooked in a cauldron, outdoors. It's even tastier. More recipes in the cauldron (bograci) find here.

From the quantities below it results approx. 3-4 servings of fish brine.


Hachis Parmentier and a contest with prizes from Samsung

Mrs. Daguerre sent Mr. Daguerre to invite me to dinner. I drank a cognac from heated glasses with Mr. and exchanged a few words about France, Romania and my not very bad French after 15 unspeakable years in Voltaire's language. The lady then invited us to dinner, apologizing that she only managed to prepare an entree, a main course, a tart and a plate of cheese for dessert. That evening I ate for the first time in my life chopped Parmentier, a dish springing from poverty, delicious simple, delicious and simple. Before I give you the recipe, I have to tell you the purpose of this post.

From today until November 2, 2012 (inclusive), you can participate in a contest conducted exclusively through this blog. The contest is called Adi Hădean and Samsung remind you of the taste of your holidays and the contest rules are available here (I recommend you read the rules). In short, in the coming days I will post five recipes I picked from the places I went to and where I liked. I chose abroad because lately I have posted many recipes with Romanian roots. I will cook these recipes on the equipment I received from Samsung to test and then offer to one of you, following this contest. I have a Samsung built-in oven in the living room (my kitchen is already full of all sorts of things)BQ2Q7G214) and a Samsung electromagnetic induction hob (CTN464KC01 ). They cook on them and they will go to one of you. Basically, you all have a chance. All you have to do is tell in a comment (or more) left on this post or any of the posts in the contest (I will write at the beginning of each post that it is a contest, not to be confused), about a tasteful holiday, about a food you discovered during one of your vacations, whether in the country or abroad. I encourage you to post more comments, the more posts, the more I have to read about the taste of your holidays, the better. At the end of the contest, I will choose a winner according to the rules, judging by the way your memories manage to transport me to the places you visited. For a built-in Samsung induction hob and oven, you should have great stories. Good luck, dear ones.

So let me return to the wonderful France (I was there in 2010, in Charente, on the banks of the river of the same name), to Mr. and Mrs. Daguerre, my nice hosts. I haven't had the opportunity to stir up the culinary memories in their house so far, but I think I found the perfect opportunity. Hachis Parmentier It is a dish dedicated to Mr. Auguste Parmentier, a French nutritionist and pharmacist who was tasked with promoting potatoes in France as a measure to combat hunger. It turned out quite well and the French have a pleasant memory of it, revived every time someone makes or eats this way.

To make this dish I also used the hob and the oven. And, of course, the ingredients, ie a kilogram of peeled potatoes, 600 grams of minced meat (mixture of beef and pork, there could be other kinds of meat, even leftovers from yesterday's meal), three or four shallots (small and sweet onions), salt, pepper, a cup of white wine, a tablespoon of flour and a few basil leaves.

If I know the oven quite well, in terms of the stove, I had to study the leaflet a bit (rest assured, I also read the one in the oven, maybe much more than it seems at first sight and I intend to test it due). As soon as I got the hang of the padlock LED (protection for children, who are not allowed to play with fire or induction), I set to work.

I cut the potatoes and put them in boiling water. The hob senses when the vessel above it is empty, it also feels if it is full and, if you press the icon responsible for the "boiling" function, it takes care to bring the water to the boiling temperature very, very quickly, which greatly shortens the time spent in kitchen (boil the potatoes in 12 minutes but you don't have to wait 6-10 minutes until the water starts to boil).

I crushed the boiled potatoes and mixed them with a cup of sweet cream and two or three tablespoons of grated cheese.

I heated the pan with a little oil and onion and then I took it off the fire because it seemed to heat up too fast - real thing, the induction does not have the inertia of the fire, it acts quickly, the dishes do not store much heat and the surface is neutral it stays cold, it can be easily cleaned as soon as you have finished cooking - I then extinguished with wine, I added flour (in my mind, I would not have put flour but you will understand as soon as she looks there), I poured some more wine and I added the meat which browned quite quickly. Thanks to the mixture of onion, wine and flour, I got a bound and flavorful filling, especially since I put some basil leaves in it.

I would have caught a hood here. Samsung offered me a solution for this, the Shark hood based on touch control (HDC9A90TXUX), but where to mount a hood in the living room, especially since I'm moving in a week?

I put a layer of potatoes on the bottom of a tall walled pot, covered the potatoes with stuffing and covered the stuffing with potatoes. I did the same in the pan in which I prepared the filling. Do you know why? To see if the convection fans are as good as they say. That is, to see if I have uniform baking up and down. I used to have. What I wish you too.

I set the oven very fast (I am absolutely atechnic and normally I need a user guide) at 200 degrees Celsius for 35 minutes. Enough time for the food surface to brown discreetly, enough time for its core to penetrate perfectly.

My dear ones, I present you Parmentier hashish. Stay healthy.

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83 Comments

ha & # 8230 what? at the last check of my francophonie, it was Hachis Parmentier, from the mince (viande hachee) coming his name. tztz & # 8230 :)
http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hachis_parmentier

out of respect for Voltaire's language, I allow myself a correction: write & # 8222hachis & # 8221, password! of the & # 8222hacher & # 8221 (cut, roughly cut).
A dish only good on the eve of winter, 100% French and which was revealed to me, as otherwise, by French friends!

the man is still wrong, he is correcting, he is more thanking. let's get over it, I propose, and let's see what's up with the contest :). I reserve the right to make mistakes when I write in foreign languages ​​at six in the morning, just as I reserve the right to enjoy when you draw my attention to them :).

I imagined him crossing the lake far and wide, and I saw him slip through the reeds to rest in the shallow water and shake them, louder than the storm wind, when he returned to the sea, as he descended to the bottom of the lake and from time to time he makes incursions towards the surface, rising to the light like a submarine, and on his return to the depths he strikes with a great tail the surface of the water, making it crack to be heard far away. Then all those on the shores, worthy and skilful fishermen, raised their heads, and looked into the distance, putting their eagle's hand on their eyes, only they would see him & # 8230. he knew how to avoid them, he knew how to steal their baits, to lift their babies and then to disappear, and from time to time he gave them emotions from time to time, precious threads & # 8230 however he always knew how to disappear & # 8230 he was a true master of the pond, he was the Foam of Water & # 8230 because only that was left behind him & # 8230 a trace of white foam on the luster of the water & # 8230 .of course everyone wanted him, of course he lit the ambitions and passions of all those on the pond at night .. old or new, young and old all knew of his existence, they all wanted to see him shot ashore .. to prove it & # 8230 and that made it day and night fishing season to have importance, to have a purpose and emotion, more than in other seasons & # 8230

& # 8230and here comes the day & # 8230 a day when my friend the Fisherman, an enthusiast, a determined and fearless fisherman in trying new strategies, right a gambler, who when everyone was fishing classic he was trying something new and vice versa , a rather young but very skilled guy, he managed the impossible, he captured the season, he brought the giant to shore, leaving the pond water without Foam & # 8230 it is hard to describe in words both the struggle and the pride and joy of this success & # 8230 8230 many said it was luck .. it is very possible ..but I remind those, that luck is that moment when skill and preparation meet the opportunity .. you can be prepared, equipped, determined and never meet the opportunity & # 8230or not to notice it, & # 8230.or not to be fearless enough to look for it, or just as well you can have piles of opportunities and not be prepared for them & # 8230 One thing is clear, my friend The fisherman gave the blow, bringing m and for the preparation, for a meal at which to honor him properly, on the water monster, on the giant in the depths, a Romanian carp of 23 kilograms & # 8230

& # 8230. I then immediately prepared a meal with friends. Simple, on the disk, big chunks, perfect meat horseshoes, without any gram of fat ..only pink fish muscles, pulled on the disk over high heat .. I could barely fry on the big steel disk two carp horseshoes at a time .. I made grilled vegetables on the fire. Zucchini, eggplant, thick slices of garden tomato .. I sprinkled everything with lemon juice and garlic sauce, I sprinkled on the vegetables dill and parsley torn from the hand and on this salad I cut thin slices of hot peppers .. a bread on the fresh hearth he completed the menu & # 8230 we drank rough tuica, the splash of bistrita plum that also reduced our tension and emotion given the great opportunity to enjoy this special carp, this symbol of the waters & # 8230After we quenched our hunger , and especially the desire to swallow, not only the good and fresh meat, but with it the mystery and the mysterious power of the giant silence, we put on drinking long spirits of white wine with ice .. We drank the wine from a Hungarian canceu what has on its beak, modeled from clay, a woman with her feet on her head so you can see her bottom and the wine that flows when you tilt the cancer, it flows between her thighs and voluptuous & # 8230.ufff ​​& # 8230He caught us at night while listening and telling stories you fish and hunt and as we drank as we were from time to time, we would ask the Fisherman to tell us how he brought to shore with a grain of fragrant beans on the Foam of the Waters at the cool bed at home and at the bottom of the woman & # 8230 the one on the wine cellar & # 8230.with all this fulfilled, I promised my comrades that we will once again honor the Great Bigos, the Foam of the Waters .. I promised them a fish soup as they have never eaten in their lives, as it has never been seen or tasted & # 8230 I put a good cleaning, in the freezer, the head .. about 4 kg and the tail .. almost like that & # 8230s I asleep dreaming of that wonderful soup, like never seen before.

The Samsung built-in oven (BQ2Q7G214) interests me & # 8230success everyone!

In December 2009 I had the opportunity to go to & # 8222A second Romania & # 8221, Italy (it is also called that because there are many Romanians there). Of course, anyone who arrives in Italy cannot leave without tasting pizza or pasta. I entered a restaurant and the waiter came to take the order. I look at the menu and wink at some pasta as long as pancakes, wrapped in what you ordered: broccoli, spinach ... etc (in my way I eat less meat). The waiter, having done his job, asks me what I want them to be filled with, and I tell him to fill them with whatever he wants, green. After about 10 minutes, the wonderful pasta comes to me, waiting as if for Santa to see what gift he brought me (I mean the filling).What do you think he filled them with? With dill and parsley. The waiter understood with greenery :)) I was also surprised why he was surprised when I asked for the order. Of course I learned my mind and then ordered pasta with spinach and mozzarella. It was the first time I ate spinach pasta and it was the best pasta I have ever eaten.

Morale: Ask exactly what you want, because not all waiters are riddles :)

I will always remember an unexpected 2-day visit to Bulgaria (business trip) in which I found a different taste of Romanian food, although many are the same. Going with the delegation I visited Sozopol where we were greeted with bread and salt, I thought at the time that it was very uninteresting, but then I saw that salt is actually a mixture of spices (fenugreek / fenugreek, fennel, angelica , anise, salt) which give a pleasant taste of salt and bread, which makes you still taste of & # 8222bread with salt & # 8221, but the most pleasant experience was a restaurant found in Nessebar among many historical monument houses you can find on the island a restaurant with traditional Bulgarian specifics, entering inside I found the similarities between the two Romanian and Bulgarian cultures and again I thought it was uninteresting.
But the interesting part came with the soup which was actually a turkey soup with some traditional bread cakes made on the stove (excellent), that soup was extraordinary, now do not imagine that the turkey sits and swims in the plate, the method of cooking it is special because the turkey is boiled in a pressure cooker which then with the help of a special tool the meat is pulled from the bones and only strips of meat reach the customer's plate which give an extraordinary taste to the soup.
I can say that this culinary experience has turned a business trip into a great culinary adventure and certainly if I get to the restaurant area whose name I don't know, it will be a safe destination.

Now that I've done my duty to myself and grumbled shamelessly, let's go on vacation & # 8230
It will be hard for me, like any chronic appetizer, because I don't eat well at home either, then on holiday & # 8230
The tiny lamb chops with sumac from a small restaurant in Cyprus (which put the moth on a menu of house wine and dancing that I still remember)? Carrot brine from the garden of some wonderful people from Sulina, with tomatoes from the garden and the recipe for mujdei as a gift from the housewife? Cocquilles St. Jacques, duck breast from Croazette and pizza and Campari from the Italian on the ground floor and breakfast from Cesarine? The pirouettes and pelmeni and papyrus of St. Petersburg? Good, good, good all.
But the dearest culinary holiday was the one in Sicily. It started with eight hungry people in a small town between the sea and the volcano, Trecastagni, five minutes before the nap, for which the head waiter from the terrace in the center took out everything that was left edible through lunch pots, at a price good, although it wasn't on the menu. He continued with the butchery / bakery and & # 8216aprozarul & # 8217 around the corner, with exceptional sausages, the best beef carpaccio of my life, fresh and local fruits and vegetables, with baba (a kind of conical savarina, with egg cream instead of our cream, less sweet and with fruit salad), with restaurants with good and relatively cheap food (I think I paid at most 60 euros for three people, with (delicious) wine included), seafood and a bruschetone made of half a pita, with fried artichokes and & # 8230
And my dearest was the relaxed owners of the restaurants, who, at nap or closing time, let you know that it was closing, taking the last order and going where the king was walking, and leaving you on the terrace, with the table full of crockery, cutlery and glasses (of the usual, not the most expensive, but not made of plastic) without fear of being left without them. And if I run out, what? That & # 8230; s one of the poorest areas of Italy & # 8230

I appreciated the intervention. It could have been a day before I realized I was wrong. I think people shouldn't get upset when they get attention :).

I grumbled because I knew I was with someone, to put it bluntly. and in appreciation of the correctness with which you write.
you're one of the few culinary bloggers who doesn't suffer from harmful gastro-linguistic snobbery, and I was sure you wouldn't answer me like I'm saving & # 8216m & # 8217 and eating ground in kindergarten, instead of rubbed chickpeas.

How I like these things with culinary memories. For me, food and smells are the strongest memories. I will start the culinary stories with older times, that is, when I was little, little, in high school and I would go with my grandparents to some friends of theirs in Bucharest. It was crazy, sir, for such a small child to come to such a big city, I loved my grandparents enormously and the trip to Bucharest was the best stage of the summer vacation. When I was there for the first time, I don't remember what food Mrs. Coca gave us (that's what she called her aunts from Bucharest), anyway I was very hungry for food at that time, but I will definitely never forget dessert. It was a pink sherbet of roses, made by Mrs. Coca from her roses in the kindergarten in front of the block (at that time I think they were still edible :)). God, what a smell that sherbet smelled. When she opened the jar, her bright room filled with a scent of flowers that I didn't think could smell like roses. Mrs. Coca's sherbet was perfect: fluid like honey, very little sweetened, neither too sweet nor too sweet. I've never eaten a sherbet like that except for her and that smell, alas, that smell! This is the culinary memory from my first vacation, which, at its peak, was in Bucharest! :) :)

Your story about France reminds me of my visit to France, which was more of an exchange of experience, but even now I say that if that exchange of experience had taken place at an older age (then I was only 16 years old) , things would have been completely different and I could have enjoyed more of everything I found there and especially the culture.
So, after visiting Paris, we arrived at our destination in Brittany. The name is very close to Great Britain because this region is located right in the NW point of France, both with access to the ocean and the English Channel, and from Saint Malo, when it is clear you can even see the coast of Great Britain. If I'm not mistaken, I think the place where I spent 2 weeks in the house of a French family, who was going to send their child home to us, is called Quimper. And, of course, I did what the children did. I would go to school, go out and then go home to dinner and sleep.
Well, one evening I had a real feast ready. With beautifully cooked shells, but I couldn't tell you how, I just remember that it smelled good and lemon, and that pink edible part came out of the black shells like embers. With a specialty of moldy cheese that they melted for each person and that they used over the grilled beef and that they served, carefully, with potato chips. I'm so sorry I can't tell you what kind of machine the cheese slices were in. There was something warm under him that was placed on the table and had small triangles with a handle that formed a disc. Then I could not appreciate the special taste of the cheese, only the smell turned my stomach upside down (I repeat, I regret that I was not several years old). But I had a little fun at the sight of the chips and I ate what I liked.
I don't know exactly what the context was, but after a few days, the girl I was exchanging experience with told me I was a gourmet. At that moment I was upset, because I didn't understand that it had nothing to do with the fact that I was fat, but with the fact that since then I liked to taste all their food, on which occasion I tell you that I did not find sausages in Romania. as tasty as theirs, especially the raw-dried ones, which I was pleasantly surprised there. It seems that even now I feel on my taste buds that slightly sweeter taste and the smell that floods your nostrils so pleasantly. The evening of the feast was the first time in my life when I met the seafood.

raclette is called the device. I was thinking of coming with a suitcase from Belgium after the first dinner like this. the host, a great gourmet and mixologist, also gave us potatoes, but cooked (delicious, but I don't remember how) and cocktails.

thank you very much :) now it sounds familiar to me. And I'm so sorry I didn't eat that cheese then

I look in my memories and all that catches my attention is the food I find at my mother's. She is old enough and her gray hair reminds me how much I have to love her for everything she has given me. I remember from childhood how we decorate margarine on bread to make it look appetizing and tasty. Yes! she was and is a perfect cook. Whenever I go to it, I find new decorations and new recipes. From her little ... she makes me a demented homemade pate, and I don't know how she succeeds, it tastes the same as when we were little. The bread is warm, kept in a towel until I come and cut a thick slice (diets don't make sense here - it's only once a year). He generously anoints the pate and from the warmth of the bread I can smell his wonderful smell & # 8230Sorb impatiently from the Porto wine I brought her, but he insisted that we drink it together. The slice of bread looks like a miniature painting. I smiled. I'm still her little girl. Then I remembered how I do it to my little girl. She jumps an imaginary sotron on the tiles. The smell seduces her and she exclaims: & # 8222Mother, look how you do to me too! & # 8221 I see in my mother's eyes appreciation and a few tears in the corner of my eyes. It 's the best meal and I hope there will be many from now on

To stay in France, I have a very fond memory of the day we visited Carcasonne, then we walked the narrow streets full of bouquets of flowers and sat in a crowded place, very crowded.
It was full of vintage stuff, decorations, paintings, the tables were small and the chairs were mismatched :) But in the end my mother-in-law, who was a big gourmand, knew what he knew, there I ate the best cassoulet.
It's something I wouldn't normally eat, especially since it was made according to the original recipe, full of goose fat & # 8211 but it had a special charm there.
I would love to go back there, although I avoid going to places where I have such strong memories with my mother-in-law because I invariably end up crying :(
But that cassoulet was also good!

When you told me that Hachis Parmentier is a dish born of poverty, simple and delicious but deliciously simple, a lot of images, smells and tastes from my country holidays came to my mind, my face came to mind my grandparents, whom I call fondly & # 8222Mamaie & # 8221 and her house where she smells and now she also smells of peace of mind. It's not from abroad, it's the story from the country but at the same time the place seems to be foreign to the world and time seems to stand still there, every time I get to Mamaie's house, I'm 16 again and because one of the themes of the contest she transports you to the lands in question, we will slowly enter the village together.
On one side and on the other the houses stand in their place, mostly old adobe, with narrow porch and stairs, scattered, with large gardens, yards full of animals still free and happy, naked or mottled chickens still running one on one. another to steal his frame, muddy pigs, the obligatory dog ​​that eats anything and lazily calms down until the moment you want to enter the yard. The cows are not at home, they are grazing, here everyone takes care of his cow and if you come around lunch time in the village you will surely meet them on the way, they go home with full udders. And as you walk through the houses like this, on the dusty road because the asphalt is not there yet (I told you it's broken by the world) and you marvel at the trees and the green & # 8222alba & # 8221 on the side of the road you reach the second street on the right after the cultural home. No, that's her mother's street and until you get to her house you have to walk a few tens of meters, well, until you get there the three dogs of the neighbor will lead you past the fence and will bark at you. you will reach the gate of your deaf grandmother's right ear.
At Mamamie's house it's another matter, she doesn't have a dog, but instead she has a summer kitchen in the garden and now we get to what interests us. Here in the summer kitchen I saw cooking and I ate sitting at the round wooden table or on the kitchen threshold with the plate in hand, the most delicious and simplest recipes. That's how I eat and now when I go to it, I refuse to sit at the table, it's a kind of ritual that recharges my batteries with love, happiness and peace. And now I ask you: Have you ever eaten tomatoes fried in oil, until they become sauce, in an old frying pan from the country and next to them a soft polenta cut with string? Or beans & # 8222urata & # 8221 boiled in a pot of earth on the edge of the fire, along with spices from the garden, a few not many like that in the country, beans beaten well in the end with a stick that resembles a mace (not even on the day of today I don't know the name of the stick, I called my mother to ask her but she doesn't answer, as if the news is telling her), says over? Or scrambled eggs with fried cheese? Or potato food with parsley and fresh dill, made in a cauldron fire bought from gypsies? But donuts on a stick? Aaaaa! What about the rolls kneaded in the bucket and baked in the brick oven in the yard, full of ashes and incredibly tasty, rolls that my mother & # 8222stamplia & # 8221 with a wooden thing in the shape of a cross, very beautifully colored and sculpted.
No, when you said deliciously simple and simple and delicious, all these came to mind, not meat, not complicated recipes, not expensive recipes, and I'm not telling you about the corn baked in the valley when I was guarding the cows and I played septic and no cheese with wine around the fire made at night on the river bank after I ran away from home through the window:) that would mean not to stop.
I hope I transported you and I didn't bore you, with details about recipes I killed myself that the idea was to make you crave and you look like a man who appreciates simple things because we are just virgins, earth signs and we like this stuff to go to the soul. Tomorrow I will tell you about something else, a country with a lot of sun, about foods that make you smile and eat with your eyes closed. Until tomorrow, I wish you luck but I hope it will be my oven and hob :)

Then keep in mind that I'm at work under the close supervision of the boss and I was in a hurry to write the story, so to forgive my grammatical mistakes that were made because of the speed. Have a good day!

Hello, I am a big admirer of you, I am a dentist, I am 36 years old and my main passion is cooking, I wanted to participate in Masterchef but it was a bit complicated, I am from Satu Mare and it is a bit far de Bucuresti & # 8230but that's it, I cook with pleasure for my family and friends. I saw the section with the contest and I thought I could try to tell you about culinary experiences, especially since I traveled quite a lot around the world, I saw Thailand, Malaysia and I fell in love with Asian food, especially because I like spicy food, but I also went to Europe. It seemed to me that the atmosphere in Greece was the best for me, I was there several times. I will never forget a very simple but extremely tasty recipe, it is a squid stuffed with feta and put on the grill, it is divine. The whole squid was quite large and the inside was full of melted creamy feta & # 8230a was great, combined with a little lemon and freshly baked buns by the owner, watered with a light white wine & # 8230 was a light and very good meal. I could talk about a lot of food but I don't even know what to talk about, I'm still talking about the best pizza I've ever eaten and paradoxically I didn't eat it in ITALY but in Montenegro in a pizzeria in Kotor, a small town in seaside & # 8230asa good pizza I have never eaten, I like pizza with thin and crispy top and few ingredients and quality. This was a pizza with gorgonzola and spicy salami, these 2 basic components had an excellent aroma & # 8230more to say & # 8230plus that the tomato sauce was made there on the spot they squeezed the tomatoes & # 8230was a culinary feast in all its splendor . I would have a lot more to tell but I won't bore you with my stories anymore, I wish you a good day!

If you remembered French food, I can't help but remember my first foray into Germany. I was in a delegation and the 3-day program also included meals.
the food was lovely so to speak, but stubbornly French. soups, consommés, puff pastry, rabbits and calves and more and more ... I asked all the waiters to get me a portion of sausages on cabbage, for a fee, in a package, on hand, as it were ..everyone looked worried and asked me if I didn't like the food, they even called the cooks ... how could you not like those goodies, but I would have liked to taste Germany. the only German thing I had was beer, so you know I got my revenge. because, most of them, after apologizing for not having such a thing, gave beer from the house! :))

I remembered the idea of ​​culinary tourism, as enjoyable and eventful as cooking away from home & # 8230

Here is my most beautiful story:

I think that the memories about a special food belong to my childhood and adolescence, when I used to spend my summer holidays in Bihor, somewhere near the Bear Cave, with my grandparents ... and where even now when I go I feel the most intense peace of mind absolute ..
The impressive mountains that surround the village, the fact that it is the last village on the & # 8222line & # 8221, further carrying only the cart roads and winding paths made by cows and goats that go out to graze every day, the village cave and the fact that here the traditions are preserved even now with sanctity and are untouched yet, the fact that collectivization has not reached them..the continued use of animals in field work, cold spring water and clean, clean, clean air .. make this village a paradise for me.
We used to go every summer vacation to work in the fields, to mow, to hay, to catch trout by hand through the mountain streams ... and it was wonderful. And up in the mountains, at an old but durable wooden cottage, without a trace of electricity, the miracle was happening. My uncle, who only cooks in these special situations, used to make and still makes a simple and delicious potato soup. Yes, potato soup. But not anyway, but in a pot of earth and in the spout left by the fire. Put in the pot almost full of fresh spring water next to the finely chopped potatoes a few small pieces of lightly sautéed bacon, hardened onions, fresh or not sheep cheese, peppers and a little salt if necessary because the cheese was usually salted .. and a let it boil there for a while ..
When it was getting dark outside, we would sit and talk, make beds over the sheets in the hay and give water and food to the animals (the cottage is half for people and half for animals).
I don't know if such a wonderful potato soup came out of the mountain air, the wood fire, the earthen pot or the spring water ... I couldn't reproduce that taste anywhere ..
I still think that you have to have a certain mood or to be there in that place necessarily to feel that indescribable taste of a simple ... potato soup.

As soon as I read the post above, my thoughts flew to Sicily and the best pizza I ate there. I came across the day when Ferragosto celebrates, a big celebration of August that ends the summer celebration. It is usually celebrated on August 15 with a hearty lunch with family and friends. I had a big barbecue at lunch and in the evening I witnessed the preparation of a fluffy and very tasty pizza.

That day I arrived at 11.00 at my friends' house which is built a few meters from the sea. After I changed into my swimsuit and found out lunch time, I ran to the beach a few steps from the house. The sun is different in the south of Sicily, more burning but also gentle due to the humidity of the sea. Next to me, a resident was trying to catch fish with just a cane through which electricity passes. While I was tanning, he found some sea urchins and caught a squid chick.

Lunch time has come. Standing in the sun and sea water had made me hungry for days. As I helped set the table, the smell of sausages and grilled meat made my stomach churn. It's time for lunch. There are about ten hungry people in front of plates full of beef and chicken, then sausages, all only well done on the grill by the man of the host family. We each started to enjoy ourselves by garnishing the plate with tame vegetables and grilling them. Who was braver, had at his disposal a garlic sauce that went only well with the wine brought by another friend from his own production. I ate and then talked until the afternoon when I went to the beach again to work on my tan.

In the evening at 19.00 the preparation of the pizza oven started. The ladies of the house prepared the dough for about ten pizzas. I looked like a helmet-mouth handling the dough with such dexterity. It was normal for me to do this only as a teenager. the tradition of making pizza is like making cake with us.
After the oven was ready to receive the good-looking pizzas, the garnishing began. On each pizza were put either prosciutto, olives, spicy salami or mozzarella, tomato sauce, oregano, sardines. Everything you can't imagine can be put on a pizza, they appeared in front of me and baked. A wonderful smell began to dance under my nose.

I love Sicily. We are quite similar to the Italian way of eating. They are noisy and lively like us. That day with the super tasty barbecue, lots of sun and delicate pizza will stay in my mind for a long time.

I want you to end up eating a pizza in Sicily.

Hi, I prefer Italian food I love pizza and pasta but I also opt for the Greek one, I spent my honeymoon on an island called zakynthos, I advise everyone to go, streets full of taverns with welcoming and relaxed people, great food salads , seafood that is ff fresh, tasty cheeses, there is no meal without french fries.
I met a boatman transformed into a traditional restaurant where you can see the very beautiful and romantic sunset.
I can't forget a lamb dish with peas and onions with butter, cooked in its juice, in foil, right in front of us, very ingenious and very tasty at the same time. Zakynthos is an acceptable destination with good food, stunning beaches the kind of island for fun-hungry youth.

My most beautiful culinary experience was in France-Marseille!
Last year for the holidays I went to Marseille to my friend where I fell in love with macarons! I had read so much about them, they were so deified, I even tried to make them in my kitchen as a closet (because I was just a student at that time) they turned out good, but not divine like the ones I ate in France.
Then I discovered the taste that I associate with France: duck confit. It is the taste that left me speechless the taste that I will never forget the taste of perfection!
When I returned home I had 3 bags of which two bags with spices, pots, special oils. Then I realized that the existence of my boxes under the bed (boxes containing my car for making noodles, pots, pans, stuff for cupcakes, cute plates) from my mini-studio were not only there for lack of space but for the love of food.
I'm here again.
There is a show in the Old Port every day: fishermen sell their fish! For two weeks I went every day to see them, but the most impressive market is the small market: Les Puces! A market full of spices, fresh fruit, vintage furniture. A treat of smells! There's nothing you don't like there. I left an Arab with a spice net.

PS: And so far I bought a tagine from here, a copper pan and a porcelain pot that was very beautiful: X and my boyfriend's friend asked me & # 8222Yes, why am I not in Romania? & # 8221And I- I answered If I had bought them from Romania they would not have had a beautiful story. If you would come to me and tell me, you will see what a beautiful vessel you have You tell me what a beautiful vessel you have, I tell you that I bought it from France, that I negotiated in blood with Arabic, that I alone negotiated the price for it with my weak French. And he was surprised :)

And in conclusion I admit: I am in love with the taste of France, but I bet that Morocco would offer me even more tastes!

PS2: I'm glad you keep the stove and the oven in the living room, they feel like guests at your home (they have special treatment) but I bet they can't wait to find their house & # 8230sper like in my kitchen! : P

I never won anything! Why I would win now & # 8230 :(

For some time now, I have been planning my holidays more according to the kitchens and dishes I want to discover, leaving behind the tourist objectives that many have the desire to tick. That's how I arrived in Tenerife last New Year's Eve, looking for sun and warmth in winter and the opportunity to eat fresh seafood. Today's story is not about them, the seafood.
Arriving on the island, I rented a car and received a map that the owner of the company, a real gourmet, wrote down all the restaurants we had to try, insisting on one, Las Goteras, far from tourist routes and frequented only of locals. We arrived in the small town called Guia de Isora, we managed to discover the restaurant, although we did not see any people on the streets and the place was not positioned on the main road and we entered wondering if we would be the only customers. When there, surprise! The restaurant was crowded, probably here were all the people in town, having lunch. We put our names on a list and waited for about an hour and a half. In the meantime we saw people coming and eating packaged food in huge quantities, we being the only tourists there and non-native Spanish speakers.
Well, it's our turn to sit at the table, with high expectations already and an appetite like home. The restaurant does not have a very varied menu, a good sign if you ask me, but it is based on preparing very fresh and quality meat, with an exposed window from which you can choose the piece you want to eat and with an open kitchen where you can see people at work, without the smell of food in the place. How not to eat rabbit - rabbit being one of the specialties of the restaurant, I chose a t-bone steak and a chicken with mushroom sauce. But before the main dishes came, we had already enjoyed a delicious tortilla, but at the sight of the portions you were hungry and instantly hungry. The perfectly prepared meat, the specific sauces of the island (mojos), the prompt and attentive service and the relaxed atmosphere, all turned a simple lunch into an experience to remember and tell to friends and blogs. And because we were so excited we went to the bar once again during our stay there, because it had simply been an experience worth repeating but not retold here, because we had already grabbed enough space and time to read.

My holidays are always accompanied by culinary joys, it is quite difficult for me to choose. Maybe a salmon I ate years ago in an Italian restaurant in Germany & # 8211 was so good, with such a special sauce (how can you describe a taste? It was neither hot nor sweet, neither too salty nor too sour, it was sublime), that I asked the owner of the place to give me the recipe. It took about half an hour to convince her and she finally gave me the recipe, after she made me solemnly promise that I would never give it to a restaurant :)
Will follow!

Hachis Parmentier, under the simple name of potato cake, accompanied me not the holidays but my childhood. It remains a dish that I make and I always eat it with joy.
As for the taste of the holidays & # 8230 In China I discovered that what we call Chinese food there is only served to foreigners, and what is eaten in restaurants frequented by Chinese is completely different, there we ate donkey pastrami and crispy squares, given by sesame and fried, mutton. There was a huge, bubbly fried octopus on the table, but I admit I didn't eat it.
I'd better talk about the taste of my French vacation. In France, I first ate salmon many, many years ago. The gentleman who had invited us to the restaurant insisted on taking salmon, something very exotic, he said. I didn't know much French at the time, so I ordered the salmon, which was marinated with dill! I explained, laughing, to our host that for us dill is not something exotic :)

Good evening, my culinary experiences, I have them every Saturday for 4 years, I cook for my two boys students, the times and the social condition. I cook pizza very often, I wait for it like God, they love it madly and I enjoy it every time. Meatballs, chicken, and bone soups are indispensable and a little sour, children also love them. I cook with great pleasure every time. the menu is not the same, I diversify them because I put myself in their place and I would not like to see the same food for weeks on end. I really appreciate the food I received. I don't have sophisticated culinary experiences, instead I still get inspired by the net, but I look for it not to be expensive, but I diversify even two potatoes. Thank you

In vain! I like to eat vegetables, salads, fruits, fish… I am the customer that any pastry chef would like & # 8211 and would have the right - to strangle him when he orders “a whole spelled cookie without sugar with icing cocoa table. Oh, don't you have any more? Then please a sugar-free espresso, the other sweets seem too sweet to me! ”. I am the one who eats more garnishes at the restaurant than the main course, and at home she prepares her steamed chicken in kuktă. But, I was saying, in vain! I couldn't resist! I asked for an encore!
Let me explain to you: you wake up around 8, not earlier, drink a coffee, eat a huge portion of oatmeal in that thing called oat milk - it's sweeter than soy, but does not contain sugar - then put two apples, a few carrots, almonds and walnuts in your backpack, plus about three liters of water. The faucet, that's a wonder. And the umbrella, and the jacket, and a scarf, and the sunscreen, and the replacement socks, and so on. Then you take her by the sheepfold. The road is paved, as luck would have it, because it is around 15%, after the first kilometers you start to bend like an orangutan. It's hot, the sun is burning. The trees do not cast much shade at first. Later, if you get rid of the peasant's dog that sells honey, it's better, the road turns and you can stop near a bench, under a crucifix, to take the first apple out of your backpack. You notice that you melted the first two liters of water, and you only made a third of the way. No problem: turn right again, the forest road begins, through the forest. It looks like a spiral, but it smells nicer. (How do the spirals smell?) Then left right, left right, like a match of Muhammad Ali. To the left is the Puni stream. I don't know what's more impressive, to look up where it comes from, or to think how low it gets, when it flows into Etch & # 8230 Go down, climb, go down, climb. The road is wide, it smells of satin. They are also fresh. I'm thirsty. Get down. You've reached the bridge. You climb & # 8230, that is, you really climb, if it rains it is better to hold on to the garden fence, not to roll in the cemetery. What a sense of humor these Tyroleans have! You have reached the center of Planol, and in the square of 20 & # 21520 meters are almost all the inhabitants of the village. It's a big holiday. There are beer kegs, pretzels on a stick, prize games. Muscular men but a little weak, hunched over by hard work in the field - oh, what a field, hay I wanted to say, something perpendicular to the path and full of grass. Everyone laughs, though no one is drunk yet. I laugh it's a holiday and they're all in the market. The women have dresses with combs and aprons, and whisper among friends, letting the children run and jump, without babysitting them. No need, they look like cats with nine lives. The music only partially covers the pleasant hum of joy. You sit on the wooden bench, ask the young lady with the red cheeks for two bauerntoasts. It's quite funny, he doesn't speak much Italian, he gestures a lot and we get along: without mayonnaise, a lot of onions and some salad. Pickles are not put!
Black bread, a mixture of spelled and rye, is scented with cumin, fennel, coriander, and other herbs that I use only here in Val Venosta. It does not grow much, it makes a hard shell and the core remains quite soft for several days. It's kind of like a little bigger bun. A few slices of good smoked speck with juniper, not smoky flavor. Two slices of sweet tomatoes. It was harder with the salad, but it was found too! It also offers sachets of ketchup, mayonnaise and mustard. Brr! Okay, mustard may not be a bad idea. The sandwich is hot. Beer is cold. The wind is thin, shy but does not let go. The cat is waiting for a piece of ham to fall on me. The waitress is waiting to tell her if we liked it & # 8230 Two more, please! And how do you dance that?

Sorry for the typing mistakes, at this hour it's a miracle that I still see the keyboard!

It's a very late hour.I didn't really understand what the competition was all about, but with the induction hobs, I had a funny incident. I venture with a pan on the ia but stubbornly she didn't want to take it. I try all the possibilities and I look at the ia as an airplane board. great wonder that he doesn't listen to me in any way. and as we had no other possibility and no other means of cooking, not everyone accepted the idea that the stubborn perfectionist did not listen to us and as such went to the cold buffet. later I discovered that not every cooking pot can put the stove to work. you need special dishes. HOW IS THE BAG AND THE CIRPAL. AT THE MODERN HOB AND SPECIAL DISHES. where to go on holiday with the hob after you and with suitable dishes?

First of all, hello Adrian, I'm glad to meet you and I greet the bloggers who posted before me!
My most valuable culinary experience was a few years ago when I stayed at home with my girlfriend and we had to cook by choosing as a menu a meatball soup like at home mom, pizza and black dessert. Said and done, I went shopping with my friend and cooked that pizza, making it so that it had the fluffy top as she likes, and the cakes were to my friend's taste. After the romantic evening with pizza, wine and blacks, I left to hear the 2nd day when her parents tasted the famous pizza with fluffy top and blacks to praise me on the way out for good taste (the future mother-in-law asked me the secret of the fluffy top ) and at the same time convincing them through my culinary dexterity that I am a boy only good for their daughter. I hope you liked my story. Good luck to all!

Good morning everyone .. and because yesterday my memories filled me, I said that I am writing another story .. from Salaj this time ..
A village with a dirt road, simple people and mostly old people (it wasn't like that when I was a child) .. far from the noise and traffic of the paved national roads, a village where there is still an extraordinary plum brandy :)
My childhood spent mostly and here is sprinkled with beautiful memories, very beautiful .. the kind of memories that I hope to have my children .. How I went in the winter caroling with dad '(grandfather, God forgive him) through the omatul up to my knees, with a woolen bag in which I gathered nuts and apples from my neighbors, as my dad used to do in the valley, even though he knew I was coming home full of mud from head to toe to my grandmother's despair ... memories that I will not I never forget them.
The very dear memory is related to .. pies .. pies with sheep cheese, green onion tails and dill .. it may seem trivial, but the nun (the only grandmother I have left) had a cast iron tip I think, black as pitch, which he greased with a little oil using a wooden stick that had a cloth on top .. on it he put the dough kneaded and left to rise for a while, filled with the above ingredients and brought to the round shape of the pie with the rolling pin .. usually I didn't wait for a pile of 15-20 pies to be made, but I took them hot from the tipsie, I broke them in 4, I looked full of lust at the steaming pieces, at how the melted cheese was spread..mmm. now it was already raining in my mouth ..
For some time now, the nun has not made us pies, because she is old and ill, but I think that at the first opportunity I ask her to make me one more time ... who knows? Maybe maybe..

I like to read recipes and try new ones. For the first time, however, I imagined that I was in France, at Mrs. Daguerre's enjoying delicious food. I am a lustful & # 8230. So diets can not be.
I ate something similar in Thassos, only it was with eggplant. It was a delight. When I came back from vacation I tried the recipe and I'll tell you honestly it's on my favorite food list.

Hello,
I would like to share with you a culinary experience of this year & # 8230
It turned out that we had a wedding on September 15 this year (a dream wedding), and on the 17th we were already leaving for our honeymoon (honey week) in Poiana Brasov.
Everything was very beautiful, romantic, as we had never imagined. The food was very good, but as it was already autumn, the cold did not take long to appear.
after eating during the week only goodies from Chinese chicken with oriental fruits to the traditional pork, it still didn't seem to satisfy me anymore.
As I was telling you, I had a cold and I didn't even have an appetite, but I said to go down to dinner. From now on, the culinary experience begins, which fascinated me due to its simplicity. What to eat? what to eat because I didn't have the appetite, I also had the temperature, in a word I didn't feel like anything.

But the soups on the menu caught my eye.
From chicken soup, vegetables and so on, something curious that I had never eaten before tingled my taste buds: it was ONION SOUP. I thought it was worth a try on this cold. and indeed I was not disappointed: an excellent taste given only by the empty soup of juice without vegetables and only with thinly sliced ​​onions. on top was a large slice of bread over which was grated Parmesan cheese.
It was amazing.

I hope you will be impressed by the simple things in life.

France, for me, is not a country but a boulevard on which I walk, hello to the right, hello to the left, I raise my hat, I kiss a glove, I give luck with several messiahs, I enter a scalpel, I drink a glass de blanc avec un peu de fromage, I sit on a terrace and drink coffee at dusk, especially France is a house of mine where I sometimes retire when I'm made lehamite de mititei and belly soup.
I have never been on a trip or vacation in France, I have not climbed the Eiffel Tower, I have not visited the Louvre or the Jardin des Tuilleries, I have wandered like a wanderer loaded with a backpack of kitchen tools and books, a ragged accordion and always followed by a puppy.
I had the utmost audacity to sing in Marseilles in the port & # 8222des chansons parisiennes & # 8221 however fearing that someone would take my accordion from my arms and make it a collar, I slept under the bridges with the other gentle Gavroche and ambushed by tetrapac wine, at three francs a box, I worked as a dishwasher in country restaurants with few staff and even more customers, but the pearl of my pilgrimages was the peace of mind of staying a few months in Stutzenheim, a town near Strasbourg, where I worked on a truly French summer garden. The mustachioed owner actually came from Belgium, his wife was a German from the Rhine, but the children were born French get beget and all had cheese and butter souls.
I felt great between them, I cooked in turn, I washed the dishes in turn, I swept the garden, and often the customers were confused to believe me the owner of the restaurant.
The restaurant's epoch-making dishes were duck and chicken casserole steak.
And the consumption was something like that - I made a dense broth from several roasted and not scalded ducks, plenty of white celery, leeks and bunches of greens. The forty-liter pot boiled over low heat overnight, and the translucent yellow liquid was served boiling in a tall yellowish earthenware cup with a raw egg in it and sprinkled with a lot of watercress that we bought in plastic boxes. layer of earth. And the watercress had a peppery taste combined with something wild and the hot broth made you soar.
And our chicks were over three kilograms of animals that we lined with flavored butter and kept in the oven in large clay pots, placed on root vegetables, all sprinkled with a strange wine that tasted like Moldovan borscht. For three hours the pans were tormented in a large charcoal oven and served like this, naturally, only with a pale brownness and soaked in butter whose secret no one wanted to tell me, for the simple fact that no one knew it. The butter came from Belgium packaged like salami, in rolls as thick as an arm and probably had some seaweed in it, maybe even parsnips, because, because after eating a quarter of a chicken (more was impossible) you fell into ecstasy.
I'm tired of having memories of dear France Adi, so I feel like taking my backpack (I don't have an accordion anymore) and cutting it thieves to Marseilles. They have a Bouilabaisse there to forget your name and where you come from.

food made with love is the best, it doesn't matter what you put in it but how it is served.

Hi all.
I will start with a gastronomic memory with an exotic flavor and sweet-sour taste, from the heart of China. It is quite difficult for me to dwell on a single dish, absolutely everything you eat in such a distant country is completely different from what you knew, and if at first sight or smell it does not really catch your eye. in the plate, after tasting for the first time it is impossible not to be completely conquered. Among the simple dishes tried there are many dishes that can be found in Chinese and Asian restaurants in our country, but do not be deluded, even if the cook, tools and spices are Chinese, it is not the same.
I will not dwell now on the hot chicken with hazelnuts, nor on the green peas roasted with soy (excellent garnish for our beef), nor on the various dishes based on fish and / or seafood, but on a recipe that bears the very name of my then destination: the Pekin duck (or Beijing, as it is called more recently, after the name of the city was changed from Pekin to Beijing.) We had the privilege of tasting this food in a small restaurant , chic, and very clean (unfortunately cleaning is not the order of the day in China, but if we consider that Beijing has 20 million inhabitants, I think it's understandable). We were seated at a large, round table, which in the middle had a large glass disk, which could be rotated, on which began to sit the appetizers and drinks ordered while waiting for the main guest (or guest). The food was not brought in portions suitable for everyone, but a container was placed on that rotating disk, after which each was rotated on the table and was served from what he had at hand. In this way, if there were 5 people at the table and each order something different, everyone had the opportunity to taste all the present. But I'm moving away from the subject
About 15 minutes after giving the order, a Chinese chef appeared, with a table on wheels, armed with knives about as long and very sharp as he was. Although I was not in Japan, he immediately made me think of a samurai. In front of him, beautifully placed on a porcelain plate, sat a whole duck, fried in oil until the lard and the skin on it had caramelized and taken on an extremely appetizing brown color. After a small show of handling knives, the chef proceeded to cut the meat from the oratanie, in equal pieces, steaming and leaving your mouth watering. Immediately these pieces were placed on the turntable, along with several containers with different sauces, fried vegetables, fresh vegetables and thin sheets of rice pancakes, so we all started to make a kind of & # 8222taco & # 8221 using what what he was doing to us. The taste of the meat combined with a sweet-sour sauce and the tenderness of the vegetables cannot be described in words. thin, which came back into our midst, on the table. He then took out a small pair of tongs with which he began to cut the bones, separating all the pieces that had a little meat stuck to them, these pieces being also deposited in a bowl to the delight of those who love to bite the meat directly from the bone. whose fan I can not declare). Just when we expected to see him throw away the leftovers and leave, the cook asked us in English ... intelligible if we wanted a duck soup from the remaining bones. As the answer was unanimous, the chef disappeared into the kitchen from where in 5-10 minutes he appeared with a huge bowl full of greens, noodles, quite spicy but still with a clear taste of the distinguished lady duck (or Mr. Rat, as the case may be). ).
The rest of the evening, the discussion focused on a single topic, namely the talent and imagination of the Chinese in the kitchen, taking care not to waste any food, while emphasizing the shape and presentation of the food. Upon departure, after the departures of the chef and the waiters (to which I answered them with the same coin, and with the local currency in the bowl for Tips, abundantly after their wide smiles) I left easily, on foot, to the hotel, about an hour and even better, in which the strong air refreshed by a summer rain took care to make us sleepy for days. Or maybe the food was too good and too much? I think I have to try again to clarify this dilemma.

Hi all. I will start by saying that I am not lucky in terms of travel, I did not have the opportunity to visit China, Thailand. the way I managed to taste various dishes from many corners of Romania, and of course the world: I work in Germany, we are a small community of Romanians, here I met people from all over Romania, and inevitably I met Most of all I liked how the Transylvanians cook. Here's a recipe I enjoyed with one of my co-workers: salad soup (a delight). , carrots, celery) while the vegetables are boiling, separate in a bowl, beat about 10 eggs, from them prepare the omelette, which is fried. and set aside. We can also add ham to the salad soup, it is fried until it turns golden we put a cup of broth in the pan over the ham. after the vegetables are cooked, we add the ham and the omelette. at the end we take a green salad we chop it and we put it in the soup, after which we add the borscht with sour cream & # 8230salt and the rest of the spices (pepper, vegeta) we add them in the amount we want, depending on everyone's tastes. This was the recipe that impressed me, I'm from Muntenia, and until 1 year ago, I didn't know this recipe & # 8230

From the cool house with small windows, shaded by the wall of the monastery over 2000 years old, I begin to hear horns on the street and horns, There are no nervous horns, there the streets are so narrow and turn so suddenly that it is impossible to see whether someone comes or not, so on the street corner they honk at each other, and my house happens to be on a narrow street in the shadow of the monastery. All this nonsense is nothing but that the world has come to life. Noisy women are heard under my window shouting, talking loudly, young people with scooters pass at high speed ready to overturn them and they shout at them & # 8221 gualio & # 8217 be careful '& # 8221 then return to the usual gossip. I look at them and realize it's time for the market. I quickly think about what and how I throw myself and go out into the street. Sun, fresh air, I smell the sea, it smells of salt and freedom, and slowly I start to go down next to the monastery wall, there it is not advisable to walk in the middle of the street, it is not known when you can get on a scooter without wanting to .
I am in Italy, in the south more precisely, near Naples, in a village called Avella and from where I descend next to the monastery I have the privilege to see at my feet a breathtaking panorama: Mount Vesuvius, the mountains nearby, many roofs and colorful, and when it's very very clear you can even see the sea. I always had the impression that Vesuvius had not yet said his last word, hopefully I was wrong. And I go down the streets among palm trees, lemons, leanders as big as my father and with flowers to catch your eye, olive trees, chic houses and poor houses, men who spend their time just because I'm blonde and offer me compliments with a relentless Neapolitan dialect (ah, how beautiful the Neapolitans speak), a carabinieri car that stops next to me and asks me & # 8221 do you want a passagio bella? & # 8222, I politely refuse and with unbridled dementia I reach the market. Here, with 10 euros you go home with nets full of vegetables, after you have passed all the Moroccans who try to sell you various, but I go directly to Carmine who comes with vegetables and who shouts happily when he sees me, I return all of the taraba to me & # 8221 Wee, hello Bella, my favorite customer, tell me dear today what you cook beautiful & # 8221? & # 8221 Parmesan aubergines & # 8221 I answer red in the cheeks, I know that if I get excited I get free parsley, a big bunch of san marzano tomatoes, lettuce and other things that Carmine slips into my net while she shoots me he squints. I fill the nets and on the way home I would like someone to ask me if I want a passagio, but no one asks me anymore because the world of the & # 8221 devil & # 8221 already knows me. And I get to work.Cut the aubergines nicely on the length, about 5 mm, after I peeled it down a bit and salt them and let them bite. Meanwhile I make a simple tomato sauce with hot olive oil in which I throw a handful of crushed garlic and muuuulta passata di pomodoro, meaning tomato juice with pulp, obviously made soft and at the end, when the sauce is ready, that is after about 30 minutes I put some fresh basil. Eggplants should be fried on the grill, but I fry them pulled through egg and breadcrumbs because I like them more and after they are fried I put in a pan only two strands of olive oil, then a little tomato juice, then a row of eggplant, a row of mozzarella and a pinch of parmesan and again eggplant, mozzarella, parmesan and so on until I finish them. I like to reconstitute eggplants and put them in such a way that I can remake the eggplant and serve you with a whole eggplant. When I'm done with them, I pour plenty of tomato sauce and Parmesan cheese to whiten everything in the pan, and bake until it looks the way I want.
It is a delicious dish and I wholeheartedly recommend you to try it, I first ate Parmesan Eggplant 6 years ago and since then I always make it, I really made my appetite and this weekend I make a tray. You can also use slices of melted cheese instead of mozzarella, I tried them and they are also very tasty.
In order to come out even tastier and to be able to try other recipes learned in Italy, because I was wandering there for about 4 years, I really need your oven because otherwise I don't know how I can do it without dancing.
Tomorrow I will tell you another recipe, until tomorrow good luck people and keep writing that I will read you all and some have some very beautiful stories!

Hi. I'm Victor and I'm 18 years old. One of my favorite vacations was when I tried to "display" my culinary talents when I was about 9-10 years old at a boarding house by the sea.
I remember perfectly the fact that I was at sea, and like any greedy child, I wanted muffins. My mother encouraged me to make them myself. All in all, the muffins are still muffins, but in my hand they've gotten better. I decided to look for a dish and a bowl and the ingredients: flour, eggs, milk, some chocolate and a cube of yeast and some vanilla essence (the composition was similar to that of a cake). I start to put flour, eggs and whatever else I need and give them to me. From where & # 8230 it was like I was shoveling into the ground so I put my hands in and kneaded. Yes, but it does not homogenize. So until almost midnight I kneaded that dough, of course under the attention of my sister who was an assistant cook. I was shouting at the chef (that is, my mother) to give her opinion on whether it was okay, and she said that it was very good so as not to discourage me. According to the recipe, the dough must rise for at least 6 hours in the fridge, so I put the bowl in the fridge and waited.
After about 30 minutes I shouted at my mother that the dough had risen, and she did not come to see and said that it should be so.
After another 10 minutes the same.
In the morning, when he looked in the refrigerator, he was a little surprised to see that the dough had grown so much that it had come out of the bowl and stuck to half of the refrigerator. The joy was supreme :)). Only the child made muffins that mattered that he had soiled half the kitchen.
Next, I decided to put them in the oven but I had failed to put a drop of oil or baking sheet on the bottom of the metal mold.
They were made to look pretty good but to take out of the shape a bit hard and they were crushed so we ate muffins with a teaspoon. It was one of the most beautiful holidays, especially for my mother, who has not allowed me to make muffins even to this day. :))

I'm a gourmet! I accomplished this in my chubby childhood and matured this grace by later combining a dynamic and healthy lifestyle with a culinary reward in the life of the effort. A true gourmet is instantly transported into a memory by at least one of the four senses & # 8230

The Mediterranean breeze travels through the sinuses and remains in the skin burned by the spring sun in Gaudi's city. The Catalans run on the beach, in parks and cliffs just before the siesta and I, a stranger among them but received as at home, breathe hoping to catch an enticing stream from the air. I'm hungry!

I realized then that Barcelona, ​​unlike Istanbul, is a sterile city in terms of smell. Every new street corner doesn't rob you of a new appetite as long as the air preserves your senses, regulates your needs and tempers your body. Thus, you get hungry at the time when Catalans eat, you are energetic with an entire city and you get sleepy when they rest.

Barcelona is a unique city and its inhabitants are privileged.

Most tapas bars are real aberrations probably generated by the logic of nature in the technique given by Gaudi to this paradise.

Above a neo-modernist shop window, a discreet neon lit up indicating the location of one of the best tapas bars in Barcelona, ​​Cerveseria Catalana. After the door I noticed a whole laboratory hidden behind a granite counter and cold metal inserts. The whole building would have been rather associated with an art gallery and rightly so & # 8230

The showcases on the bar were sprinkled with all the colors of the appetite starting with the classic semi-preparations that we find in any sports bar and that open the menu to the cheese showcase of all kinds that make your way to the showcase of segmented meats for frying, grilling, stove up to a special selection of sausages that culminates with the ceiling covered by the legs of the black Iberian pig from which the famous Jamón is sliced. Separate are the gems of any tapas bar: freshly picked from the Mediterranean are the seafood lying on an ice bed.

The appearance of the bar heats up with each delicacy displayed as the cheese cube in the mouse trap.

Tapas bar is nonsense & # 8230 I would have expected the place where the nobles served wines or cherries covered (tapa) with a delicacy with the sole role of flies not to end in liqueur to have a label on cutlery. I was pleasantly surprised as well by the Muslim cuisine that the Iberians prefer not only a very varied palette of minutes but also hand eating.

I chose an appetizer based on shrimp and I would have expected a complex construction but I was surprised by a slice of homemade bread slightly hardened on the fire and cooled so that the butter does not melt but to accommodate three fried shrimps in the pan enough to keep gummy. Over this appetizer, an inspired assistant chef chose to sprinkle some Mediterranean salt grains that had not yet melted and stung my fingers as I gathered the delicacy on the way to my teeth.

My fingers were covered in butter that had already melted at body temperature along with a grain of salt gave me the feeling I had as a child when I served the salty butter with salt for breakfast.

I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of lemon. He didn't even miss it in a perfect balance of lightly bitter butter with mild salt. The shrimp in itself left its strong aroma like an explosion in a perfectly built environment.

In parallel, I listened to the suggestions of a friend from the lands and I chose Salpicón de Mariscos & # 8211, a distant relative of the beef salad but with variations of sea ornaments instead of beef. In this case, I felt the taste of tuna, which, generally dry and pretentious, found its perfect place among the chopped vegetables seasoned with greens and complimented with mayonnaise.

The tone became the star of a show difficult to explain. A work that requires a simple look for the complexity of the ensemble but also binoculars for the soprano's gestures.

My fingers were slightly slippery. The mayonnaise olive oil lost its way through a mixture of vinegar and lemon when I put my navels together to rub them, and it didn't take me long to get to the texture of my own skin.

I couldn't help myself and ordered two or three slices of each sausage culminating in Jamón. I have not yet met in Romania locally where the cold platter contains sausage from the yard, the trade one being favored. The Catalans don't produce it in the attic either, but the sausage from the shop is from my grandmother at home, as my native friend explained to me.

The fingers slid under the weight of the fat left in the animals with heavy meat but dry enough in the aromatic smoke to be digested in the hottest summers.

The taste varied from predominant to strong meat. From spicy to fragrant greens. I also noticed different peppercorns and nothing disappointed.

The seafood paella came in a small pan that copied the appearance of her older sister displayed in the shop window. A recipe that varies from region to region but grounded in Hispanic character, here was in the foreground a combination of lobsters and shells that could only transport me to the deserted paradise of an abandoned island.

The fingers felt the firmness of the crustaceans and almost cut into the sharp edges of the shells as the taste varied confusingly from the oppressive and heavy but pleasant shell to the gelatinous crustaceans all erased by the slightly spicy rice with vegetables that pushed you to repeat the experience to the bottom of the pan.

One last but strong memory is a mini-steak of tender beef in blood and peppered with a large grinder, placed on a slice of bread heated and sprinkled with fresh crumbled parmesan from the wheel that in 3 bites left its mark on my palette of memories until something more impressive will be able to replace it.

The simplicity with which the slice of meat was presented probably led to the surprise I had, feeling the sweet taste perfectly flavored by the companions found on the same slice of bread.

I wasn't full, at the top, but that wasn't my goal either.

I finished the last mouthful of beer, got up and headed for the port where looking long at the moon I sipped a sangria trying to temper the ecstasy to be carried in other states and the days to come.

Hmm & # 8230 what reminds me of the taste of the holidays is a culinary preparation that has me as its protagonist. It's a funny incident that happened somewhere in August to my grandparents, because that's where I liked to spend my holidays, on the day when my grandmother celebrated her birthday. She had been away from home for some time, and she was thinking of me to surprise her on such an important day, and I set out to prepare a black woman for her. I followed almost all the stages of the recipe with sanctity, but I omitted an ingredient and a rather important one & # 8230cacao. to have it but it was white & # 8230ca and conclusion everything was a success the sweet prepared delighted the taste buds of those present and the funny moments based on the appearance & # 8222black & # 8221 maintained the atmosphere. After the groceries I made, I learned my lesson and cook a delicious blackberry.

If you are still in France, I will tell you about my culinary experience absolutely unheard of in Romania. Somewhere in France, in the Morbihan Bay area, I met the family I have been corresponding with for some time and I asked for traditional food from that area.
The family put boiled water with some spices of their own, inside they poured a net of LANGOUSTINE :) which they boiled as they know and put them next to some live shells (2 kinds) that were served with a kind of lemon syrup (a helas but not so sour, maybe just lemon squeezed with water).
Along with Langustine, they put two types of sauces on the table: Aioli (dijon mustard mixed with mayonnaise and a few garlic spices and a few drops of lemon) and Fennel & # 8211 which goes with several types of fish (eggs mixed with dijon mustard until become mayonnaise with olive oil, salt a few spices and lemon then left to cool).
And not to say that & # 8216mint & # 8217 :) I made my album public on FB and I hope the links to the pictures go https://fbcdn-sphotos-ba.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/35422_2441056784903_2532237_n .jpg and https://fbcdn-sphotos-aa.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-prn1/35422_2441056624899_2445882_n.jpg I know they look awful when you look at them but they are absolutely delicious with that sauce I left to eat on their bread something crispier and louder. https://fbcdn-sphotos-da.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/35422_2441056144887_2168237_n.jpg served with wine .. ask Mr. Daguerre more about these sauces :) (and don't forget to make some delicacies as you cooked in Sibiu La Pasaj) PS: I really need a new hob :))

Buttoning on the internet, Hachis Parmentier caught my attention and reopened a drawer with memories. Beautiful culinary memories, from a vacation, if I may say so, that lasted no more and no less than six years in France. There I really discovered the pleasure of eating, especially to enjoy, because until then (and I was already an age) I did not have impressive culinary memories from childhood, apart from baked potatoes in my grandmother's wood-fired oven, over which he put pasta. tomatoes and fresh parsley and crispy peel from the cakes.
I discovered the pleasure of enjoying and the appetite to eat, through the diversity of multicultural people I met. Thus, I was impressed by the Jewish laurel (if you ask me, I'll tell you how it's done, because I saw them, I tasted and then I did), this being an abundance of various tastes, served on Shabbat with a multitude of salads, as well as Jewish bread, woven, with sesame sprinkled on top, bread in which they put egg and sugar. then I was impressed by the Indian-style chicken cooked by Veronique, who lived in northern India, chicken cooked in coconut milk. From Hiroko, Japanese, I saw and made Asian pasta with hardened endives along with other spices. The Moroccan tried to impress me with endives wrapped in ham, with fresh cream sauce rested well in the hot oven, and be with scrapers and cheese fondant. The Ukrainians impressed with a kind of ravioli, they prepared the coca and the meat filling and the spices, then they scalded them and served them with Parmesan, so that in the end they would entice you with some chocolates with a unique taste, brought from Georgia. I had a different feast at the Liles de Re, an island in the south of France, where I was invited to dinner and I was impressed by the diversity of tastes, above the way they were prepared, then serving black rice, vegetables. exotic, along with lobsters and shrimp. Also on the island we learned to eat fresh oysters, sprinkled with lemon, black bread greased with butter (butter) with sea salt activated by a white wine, duke, in which the sun was inviting (in large quantities, it was certainly intoxicating ! & gt)). I also learned to prepare mussels, with shallots (small onions, a little reddish), wine and greens, but enjoyed with the help of a shell. Oysters and shells were my Sunday joy for a year while I was on the island, and maybe it wouldn't have been so enticing if I hadn't gone to buy them on the island's farms. I remembered that on the island I also found and bought small potatoes, grown in sandy soil, which I cooked in their thin skin, they have a really special taste, different from the traditional taste of the potato we consumed.
The only cakes in the entire French pastry that could be to my taste were Foret Noire and Gateau chocolate.
I left at the end a very simple dish, but wonderfully tasty, which I have, by chance, and in a photo that I would have liked to be able to show here. On a bed of lettuce sprinkled with lemon and olive oil, with a few cherry tomatoes, put a dish made of pipette, hearts and goose liver, a few mushrooms, which were tempered and then quenched with a little wine and gravy. tomatoes, seasoned to taste, with or without shallots, as everyone prefers (our French friend can't stand any kind of onion, so I didn't use it when he was also invited).
The moral of this foray is that we are the women who spend, I think, most of the time in the kitchen, especially for the preparation of traditional dishes, such as sarmales or pies, not to mention cakes.
There I learned that there can be pleasure in eating and especially speed in preparing something really delicious, which will pleasantly tickle your taste buds. So I went from the slogan: I eat to live, to: I sometimes live the pleasure of enjoying a delicious meal.
Good appetite to all, increase your cooking and preparation and enjoy a foray into the enticing world of remembering perfect tastes.

I also remembered the most delicious bread / baguette of the old that I could taste only once, also in France, on the Madame Islands, I think, a bread that melted in your mouth, which did not have much core , but more of a delicious crust. You could only enjoy such bread, as if nothing was worthy of enriching its taste, whatever you put next to it could have beaten that DIVINE taste (this is the most appropriate word).

Hi, I was born in Brasov, so being close to the beautiful mountains of Bucegi, every summer vacation we go to the mountains, with a very well developed equipment by my father who is a good connoisseur of the mountains, but also with food & # 8230I want to mention that at that time (of those who do not know) you could not find sausages and other goodies, so you took vegetables from the garden, bacon, a little meat, cheese, eggs and of course the indispensable canned fish. what we set up at the Malay cottage, my father, who always prepared food on the mountain, made a healthy fire and put the tuciul for the preparation of ZUPULUI & # 8230, a soup that the local shepherds also came to eat. The soup is made like this: cut the small pieces of smoked meat and bacon and put them on the fire, meanwhile finely chop the onion, pepper, carrot and from time to time with a wooden spoon chew in chunks when they are browned add the vegetables cut and leave a little, I want to mention that my father did not put oil because he leaves his bacon enough fat, after about 5 minutes he fills the bacon halfway with water and lets it boil, now we clean the potatoes, wash them and cut into cubes, as for the soup, when the water started to boil, add the potatoes, add a little more water, add salt and wait by the fire enjoying the enticing smell, if we have tomato paste it's ok, if we don't cut 2-3 tomatoes and we put them close to the end together with finely chopped & # 8230 GOOD LUCK

Hi, my name is Melania and I'm 18 years old! I would like to tell you about my most interesting and unforgettable culinary experience. I start by telling you that it all happened 4 years ago, on a beautiful summer day. I was on a vacation with my mother and a very good friend of hers, who happened to have a boy with an older age than me. One day, our mothers decided to go visit part of the city and leave us alone for a whole day, without bothering and bothering about what we have and what we are not allowed to do. let's do it . Said and done ! The girls left for the city and we were bored. And the brilliant idea of ​​cooking came to us, because that very day we had some unimaginable cravings. We went to the kitchen excited, even though we knew we had little idea what we were going to do. All we and you could anticipate was the disaster left after our great experience. In order not to deviate from the subject, I will go directly to the & # 8222 dishes & # 8221. As I was in a foreign city, namely Italy, I decided that we had to make at least one Italian dish that we could easily attach to something Romanian. That guy and I, named Adi, went into the kitchen needing to do what we knew best, disaster! I took the pasta out of the closet, put a saucepan of water on the stove, and started the fun. Adi, more curious, kept wondering what dishes we would make, but also what our mothers would say when they arrived in the kitchen (I certainly thought they would behead us then). I put the pasta to boil, and in a frying pan I prepared the sauce. And what a sauce, with totally weird ingredients but full of love and humor. I put tomato juice, halved cherry tomatoes, a lot of pepper, hot paprika, olives, tuna, a little garlic and a little basil from a pot in the kitchen :). The first course was about ready. Then we both decided that there could be no meal without dessert. Said and done! But as we didn't know how to make cakes or other complicated things at the time, I sent Alex to buy the ones needed to make a fruit cake (not the other way around, but he spoke Italian). I made him a list. which, as far as I can remember, I passed: cake top, 4 tubes of whipped cream, white chocolate and dark chocolate, fruit and pistachios. He finally gets home (after 25 minutes of walking) and we start the cake. He, more jokingly, instead of participating in building the cake, he focused more on my nerves. Going out of my mind, I took the tube of cream and started to decorate it a little, so that it would calm down. To stop me, guess what he did? He covered my eyes with cream so I couldn't see and kissed me. I was stuck for a minute or two, because I didn't know how to react. I went to the bathroom to clean & change, and when I came back, surprise! He had arranged the table so nicely that you said it was for a romantic date, not for a 15-year-old kid's play table. At one point, he also appears, with his clothes changed, and asks me to sit at the table, because I was going to be served by him. I did exactly that. We sat together at the table, laughed, joked ... and when it came time for dessert, I wanted to go to the kitchen to finish it, because I knew it wasn't ready. He asked me to stay at the table, because he would take care of it. And now I remember what emotions and what red face my dear Adi was. Finally, he returns to the table and asks me to let him blindfold me. he blindfolded me with something from his mother, and asked me when I saw the cake to say nothing but & # 8222da & # 8221 or & # 8222nu & # 8221. I didn't know what it was but I assumed it meant whether I liked it or not. When he discovered my eyes, I was left with a statue! It was so beautifully decorated and it looked like it was made with love. The most important thing was that he wrote in jelly letters for the children, the following sentence: & # 8222Do you want to be my girlfriend? & # 8221 (no longer had an A :)) the answer was a logical one. Yes I want. Then followed a huge hug! I think I will remember this meal all my life, because with it, I met the one who makes me happy even now ..and here that after 4 years of relationship, we are equally in love with each other and we cook more well, more and more importantly, we cook with love! It was all the more confusing when we heard that our mothers had conspired to make & # 8222play & # 8221 a reality. Even our mothers lived with the impression that everything is a game, and even now she tells me that she can't believe we are still together. Therefore, a trivial dinner can become a person's most beautiful dream when he least expects it :)

& # 8230very beautiful! Greeting cards & # 8221


Light and creative recipes

The last recipe that disappointed me was the leopard muffin. It is beautiful, good-looking, but it has no taste - I would say a sandwich bread colored with cocoa. And in addition the core is dry. I decided to try leopard cake with this traditional butter cake recipe. And to make it easier to spread, I will put it in the fridge overnight and then, between the different stages in the freezer. It will be longer, but I hope it tastes better. The dough of these muffins came out very fluffy (sorry, I don't like to brag, but I have to describe it) and it keeps very well for even 3 days.
The recipe was for 8 people, a tray, but I made it for 16.

Ingredients for muffin, for 16 pieces of Swiss muffins or 1.2 kg of dough:
- 250 g of butter (leave it for 2 hours at room temperature to become soft)
- 10 cl of milk
- 500 grams of T45 flour
- 20 g of fresh yeast
- 100 g of sugar
- 4 eggs
- 1 egg yolk for browning, before baking the muffins (but for me it is optional, because I put 2-3 tablespoons of water in the preheated oven tray and immediately put the muffins on the top floor on another plate, so the steam colors the crust very well)
- 12 g of salt

Ingredients for pastry cream :
- 50 cl of milk
- 1 vanilla pod
- 5 egg yolks
- 100 g sugar
- 60 g starch (10 g in addition to the normal recipe)
- 25 g butter (butter is not mandatory, it gives a crisp appearance to the cream - you can put up to 50 g, but I put less because we already have a fairly rich muffin in butter)

Ingredients for syrup :
- 50 g of sugar
- 5 cl water
- 1 tablespoon orange blossom syrup (I put Grand Marnier - a liqueur with a strong orange flavor)

And in addition, for the filling:
- 200 g chocolate chips

Start the robot on first gear for 5 minutes, then continue for another 10 minutes on second gear.
Add the soft butter cut into pieces and knead the dough until it comes off the walls of the bowl.

Before using it, mix the cream again to homogenize it and make it easier to spread on the dough sheet.

Preparing muffins :
Take the dough out of the fridge and cut it into two equal parts.

Do the same with the second half of the dough.
Preparation of the syrup :

Put water and sugar in a saucepan and heat until the sugar is diluted. Before 20 minutes to remove the muffins from the oven, add the orange blossom essence or orange liqueur.
Preheat the oven to 180 ° C. Let the pan heat up in the oven at the lowest level. When the oven is warm and the muffins have doubled in volume, put 3-4 tablespoons of water on the hot plate and on the upper floor place the plate with muffins. Thus, steam is formed in the oven, and the muffins are colored very nicely.
Leave in the oven for 12-15 minutes, until the muffins turn a nice color.


What is pillows from carbonara pasta

Guanciale is raw-smoked meat is most commonly used for Italian dishes, but pancetta is also used, and in English-speaking countries, kaizer is often used as a substitute. Ordinary cheese is Pecorino Romano or, occasionally, Parmesan. The recipes differ in the use of eggs: some use the whole egg, others only the yolk, others a mixture - depending on preferences and cuisines.


Home to the Wife



The word perfume, used today, comes from Latin "for smoke"and means"through smoke". filtered and put them back, repeating the procedure countless times.


In Egypt, the production of perfume was reserved only for priests. Therefore, perfume laboratories were set up in temples. Access to perfume for personal use, only priests and emperors had. The Egyptians also used perfume to embalm.




Egyptian scene depicting the preparation of Lily perfume


Under the influence of the Middle East and Greece, Rome declared itself conquered by perfumes. Although at first they used it only for religious events, the Romanians soon proved to be very ingenious in creating new flavors, they were the ones who created the room perfume because they sprinkled the floors and the walls with essences, went so far as to perfume horses and dogs and create fountains with fragrant water.

In India, much of their flavor is based on incense.


Archaeologists discovered in 2005 the oldest perfumes in Pyrgos, Cyprus. These perfumes are about 4,000 years old. The perfumes were discovered in an ancient perfumery. In ancient times, people used herbs and spices such as almonds, coriander, myrtle, conifer resin, bergamot.

The perfume arrived in Greece through the Phoenicians. The Greeks used a perfume for every part of their body. Although Solon (politician and poet) restricted the sale of perfumes by decree in 640, perfume remained the best-selling product, especially perfume.

The Arabs loved amber, roses and musk. They were the ones who invented the still in the 10th century, thus starting to produce distilled perfume essences and thus the perfume paroduction grows. It is said that they mixed fragrant essences even in the cement from which mosques were built.

Ibrahim, still offers to the male visitors, of the Baiazid Mosque built in the 16th century, perfume.

An Arab chemist, Al-Kindi (Alkindus), wrote a book on perfumes in the ninth century, which he called: "Chemist's book on perfumes and distillation". It contains over a hundred recipes for aromatic oils, balms, aromatic waters and substitutes or imitations of expensive drugs. The book also describes 107 methods and recipes for the preparation of perfumes and equipment for the preparation of perfumes, such as still. The Persian Muslim physician, Avicenna (also known as Ibn Sina) introduced the process of extracting flower oil by distillation, today this being the most common procedure, experimenting primarily with roses. Until the discovery of Avicenna, liquid perfumes were mixtures of oils and crushed flowers or petals.. Both raw materials and distillation technology have significantly influenced Western perfumeries and scientific developments, especially chemical properties.

The art of making perfumes became known in Western Europe as early as 1221. Ointment with scents of musk, amber, oils and scented resins appeared. In 1370 a perfume was produced from scented oils, mixed in an alcohol solution, thus giving birth to fluid perfumes (eau de toilette) based on rosemary.

The art of perfume making flourished during the Renaissance in Italy, and in the 16th century, Italian refinements were taken in France by Renato Florentinul (Renato il fiorentino), the personal perfumer of Catherine de 'Medici. His lab was connected to her apartment through a secret passage, so no formula could be stolen. Thanks to Rene, France quickly became one of the European centers of perfume and cosmetics.

Current replica of the famous perfume essences: Damascus Rose, Lily of the Valley and Iris (symbol of Florence)

The cultivation of flowers for their fragrant essence, which began in the 14th century, grew into a major industry in the south of France. Between the 16th and 17th centuries, perfumes were used primarily in the circle of the rich to combat body odors, resulting from irregular bathing. Partly due to this clientele, the perfume industry was created.


Simona's World

I also said that I have a whole list of favorite recipes, but I find that I can't keep up at all. This time I prepared this cake, prompted by some nectarines that were bitter and ready to go .. :)
For the recipe I was inspired by Susu, whom I thank!

17 comments:

A seasonal cake that I like is fragrant with nectarines. Kiss!

yammy! I want a piece too!

Good, fluffy and fragrant. That is 3 in 1.
Kiss you!

I hope you keep me too, I really like it! Kiss you

I came to get two pieces for coffee, it looks really good! Kiss

clear. delicious fluff! but your father. that I eat more around the year :)))
I kissed you!

@ Sara & ampMiki, thanks! Many kisses
@Adnia, I offer you a piece too! Kiss
@Mihaela, exactly! Many kisses
@Cristina, I'm keeping you !! Kiss
@Timea, two pieces are yours !! Many kisses
@Strumfita, thank you! Kiss
@Laura, let me gain weight too .. but I'll get over it too :) Pup

What goodness you have done here! You can see how fluffy it is!

One piece please :) !. It looks great !.

Mmm, fluffy and delicious! Yummy! Pup!

@Haplea, thank you!
@Lavi, it came out very fluffy and fragrant! And as much fruit as you need. Kiss
@Paradis, with great pleasure! Many kisses
@Licuta, sar`mana! Kiss

@Haplea, thank you!
@Lavi, it came out very fluffy and fragrant! And as much fruit as you need. Kiss
@Paradis, with great pleasure! Many kisses
@Licuta, sar`mana! Kiss


Simona's World

It's Easter Lent. Unfortunately I can't keep it, I'm much too greedy ... but I always try to refrain in the last week. And the words of my colleague Liviana: "Am I fooling God with a bowl of potato soup?"!

12 comments:

Very buuuunnneeeeeeeee! It was raining in my mouth. Until I make them, can I serve myself a little one? Kisses1

Mmm, what goodness sarmalute. I'll steal one too! Kisses!

I'm also greedy to know !! and now you've really made me want to !! Kisses!

Guess what I'm eating tomorrow?

These are my favorite sarmales. I don't see those who have meat. I kiss you!

Ohhh, yes! You took it from me before and I want to do them soon. Kiss

How good they are. We really like mushrooms, prepared anyway. Kiss!

@Milica, it's a pleasure to come to your table too! :) Kiss you
@Licuta, I offer you a whole portion! Kiss
@Fantasy, I can only offer you a virtual gate .. I'll kiss you
@Teo, mind you, right? Kiss
@Mihaela, I like these much more, but pap with pleasure and meat. Many kisses
@Cristina, I can't wait to eat from you too! Many kisses
@ Sara & ampMiki, me too! Although I don't know why but I don't seem to eat as often as I could :) Kisses

I wish you a beautiful spring!

@Haplea, thank you!
@Cristina, I kiss you sweetly and I send you the same good thoughts!


1 kg. boabe naut, 400 gr. parsley, 6 cloves garlic, 4 onions, 4 teaspoons cumin, 6 teaspoons water, 2 teaspoons salt, 1 teaspoon hot paprika, ½ teaspoon pepper, 1 teaspoon baking soda.

The chickpeas are covered with water and left to soak until the next day. The next day it is passed twice through the mincer together with the onion, parsley and garlic. The resulting paste is mixed with the other ingredients. Make small round balls and fry in hot oil or chips. Serve with french fries, with thina sauce and shug or garlic sauce.