Excuse me, may you repeat the last sentence? Yes, this one. Again, please.
So you mean to tell me that the food does not change the world? You mean to tell me that the world does not rotate around the food? You mean to tell me that breakfast made with love, and cooking made with love, and love made with love does not make sense?
Well, let me cook breakfast with love for you then.
▩ We whip the hell out of egg whites until they look like peaks of the Alps.
▩ The yolks we mix well with the handful of spinach.
▩ Into the pan we put some coconut oil and wait until it gets pretty hot.
▩ We, then slowly start to mix both of the joys: egg yolks with egg whites.
▩ We pour these United Nations into a pan. Lower the temperature.
While our eggs’ wonder is cooking, we make hummus: the dish of million (at least) flavors.
◮ We take canned chickpeas.
◮ Put them into the food processor together with pieces of garlic, two to-ma-toes, pepper and salt (better sea salt, especially if you kind of have missed the sea!).
◮ We let the 21st century’s invention to the job.
◍ Avocado. We slice it and sprinkle with pepper, salt (again, the same situation) and a little bit of lemon juice.
▩ We get back to our situation at the pan. We carefully take out our wonder. Put it into the plate. Add goji berries, walnuts, some slices of Parmigiano Reggiano and rocket with a little bit of salt and pepper.
And now...
Excuse me, that the food what…?
Ginta
