"bread and cake he knows you ... and at night to put the pot
promise is a true sentence. The talk, or better to say, the monologue of an "almost" retired aligning the bad times "when hunger" with them from now on those who may need to continue fighting for the bread a little longer.
"Since there was ná eating six brothers went to granáo the circle and with a bit of bread, when there, Nah, you know (because of my age ... but muuuchossss were many who had no bread for weeks ...) because we were ready pa tó er day "
With eyes bright as the crystals of those grenades, Don yonoséquién read to her fellow bus an old battle that now seemed so distant. That's the thing wounds. Never close completely. And I never went hungry unless a choice (and for a short time, I have no desire whatsoever to the fast) I wonder how it will not just pass it as a child, with all the damage that that entails, but how will you feel the fear back to pass in old age when nobody wants to work but you also get to live a board that has all the views into utopia.
"Luckily my mother was a magician, Nah, you know. With Na and meno muriéramo got no one. And look how puny we were .. eh. But a mother at that time was able to do with a few chickpeas a university, see what I say ... two years ago has died the last of these, my brethren, and all because of cholesterol, diabetes ... and whatnot. How is life ... do not die of hunger and yet ... "
The seatmate, a young and probably a strict regimen now that spring is coming, just looked at one man, yet sleek and handsome. Surely both look very far ... the years of famine and years where fear begins its silent procession. And off the bus complaining that he had an old heavy battles. Her friends understand but maybe not his father, who walk in a parallel universe with one unknown.
"I told my mother was the smartest women on the planet ... well ... it looks daughter that she knew the day had hardly eaten and dreaming of the gut can not sleep. She put the pot in the evening (in my town puts the stew pot was made with what little they have ... you understand, right?) ... so there we sat the nine, my six siblings, my parents and my grandmother probecilla, before the Puna soupy dish with chickpeas and sometimes a piece of cod pa handed out. Not that that took away the hunger, but to have something warm in the stomach as we went to bed and slept soundly. And TO thank the wit and wisdom of women of that time ... "
She pressed the stop and some anxiety is reflected in the face of that man. Not only hunger is concerned. Nor is only the uncertainty of how you will work almost two years, to 67, to retire if hardly stand holds so many years gone to the scaffold. is perhaps the hunger for more. The hunger for understanding the early death, from the days where you eat a can of tuna in spite of having a refrigerator full. The little tenderness that includes the youth movement and how little of his mother looks at another woman since the death of his own. It is the hunger of the magic that haunts him. He who has no education, never refuses a little conversation with their neighbors, as was always done to the people of his village.
'm sure of it despite not having seen it.
"Ten cuidao the puddles when you get off, my daughter, since it is raining in Seville, is ambulatory filling people with things started ... "
The bus door opens. She says a "bye" that looks like a door. Don yonoséquién and I shrug to resist the coup. And when it appeared that hopelessness was going to eat me alive, the driver turned, complicit smiles at me and fills me with green dots like the lights.
Then I moved from place to tell my people yonoséquién in order to sleep warm, grandmothers preparing a "pulley" with flour, water and little sugar could get. Because if the mothers were Magas ... grandmothers were the Good Fairy of the stories, who knew that a child sleeps better with something sweet in the belly.
Pulleys Recipe
Ingredients:
Squares fried bread croutons
two teaspoons anise (anise)
Cinnamon stick
Lemon Peel Sugar
five tablespoons flour
four tablespoons milk
three quarters
Ground cinnamon to taste
rely bread in olive oil and set aside. P oner in a container an oil chorreoncito fry pan, add the anise in grains, milk, lemon peel and put in the fire. Before it starts to boil remove most of anise grains with a strainer, no matter are few, add the flour, sugar and stir until it thickens once thick add the fried bread and place on plates removed from the top to add cinnamon.
should not be too thick and that later will be very hard. Espesito leave and the last rennet do at the plate
