It's a very mild Autumn this year, still temperatures reaching 20 degrees Celsius.
I'm looking forward more to crisp air and cold cheeks accompanying my walks through the fields,
shallow arch of sun and increasing darkness while shuffling through fallen leaves and Fall colors.
This year, not just harvest and storing for Winter occupy me,
sometimes waves of sadness come, tsunami waves of melancholy.
And so as not to fall too deeply into that vein
how about some funny stuff.
When I started writing this blog and was unsure of a title
Lothar asked, „What are your three favorite foods?“
No question about that ---Chicken-Tomatoes- Pretzels.
We've done Pretzels, Tomato sauce, Chicken soup and
stuffing, so how about a funny chicken story.
I love inviting guests for dinner, trying new recipes,
practicing old favorites. The limit to how many people
we invite for dinner is usually set by how many chairs we have (and fit in our small living room).
Then I cook all day.
I did the same in Italy, sometimes for Lothar's sculpture colleagues, sometimes with the Italian neighbors,
sometimes visitors from the States on their way somewhere else.
For this dinner I wanted to do roast chicken, and the poor things
offerred at the supermarket didn't look very appetizing.
Qualcose un po piu grande- Do you have something a little bigger.
And the young Italian, his white butcher's hat senselessly balanced above the black curls
wallowing out from underneath went to look for something bigger.
Will this do? Holding the bird by its feet, the feathers still on its head
so as to fascilitate the certainty of its freshness for discerning Italian cooks.
Then he placed the bird, spiraling downwards like a Nautilus on to the scales.
Want the feet? Chop.
How about the head, want the head? Chop.
I think I remember only silently swallowing in amazement and
that my share was happily devoured by our guests
oblivious to the story.
So no tangible recipes this time.
Instead a recipe for Autumn blues.
John Cleese's Ministery of Funny Walks