Back in my chilhood, when everything was good, one of the first really good memories about food, I remembered that my dad and mom make me taste something that stuck with me all these years.
It started by digging a hole in the ground, like finding a treasure, and carefully opening a bottle. It was the taste of sunshine, hinted with garlic, and bay leaves, transmuted into gold maybe?
A tradition that it is lost, that I am trying to revive.
