Morrowind English Patch

La torta di grano saraceno e i grandi amici

was a quiet day in mid-November when Mars and Ale Cambiandostrada send me an email to propose this contest .

' It' s very easy 'say to convince me, have fun, I think.

What is this? E 'need to know a friend in the world of bloggers, both important to choose a recipe and publish it on the blog. The best pair is rewarded with a fantastic bright red KitchenAid !

Easy so far. Because with friends like Martha Ale and the recipes are dozens, hundreds, thousands. Not because we cook 24 to 24 hours but because the flavors of true friendships are often chasing the flavors palate. So we searched in memory.

Some dishes created in a scout camp? No, missing key ingredients such as a tent, the sweat, a fire above the rough and fly ash into the pot (if not then the plate falls to the ground).

The olives, the culinary heritage of humanity and of our city? No, I am against the disclosure of the true recipe.
There 's been on for a while, looking for the right recipe ... then there was a memory and a taste that have emerged in the memory.

years have passed. But not a month goes by that I'm not going to review this site on the internet (click here if you want to see too). A haven in the mountains of Trentino. The story of a boy who, with assistance from the family, has put into operation an old mountain town, making it one of his pasture for grazing cows and a warm and loving shelter for those who want to venture up there. A few beds, shared bathroom, the electricity they closed at 21.

The heart and the sympathy of people and real lives. I remember the fire in the central hall. I remember the sunrise and sunset over the mountains. I remember the cheese, the smell inside the barn, the color of the grass. I remember the people with whom I shared these moments and those that I met there.

I remember the food, milk, yogurt, berries. And I remember the most delicious cakes good: that of buckwheat. Simple, rich and poor at the same time, delicious and very old, far from the tastes of plastic snack industry. Rich in history and tradition.

If you want the recipe and the rest of the story, click on more information and keep reading!

If you had the patience to get this far, here is the recipe for this delicacy, preceded and followed some advice from the second part of the story.

Here's the tip: as you work on the recipe, how about a little 'music? I've just discovered the group of Jolly Boy, playing music Chin e provengono dalla Giamaica. Provate a vedere un video cliccando qui e se vi piacciono...

torta di grano saraceno, raffa's cut

ingredienti:

200 gr di farina di grano saraceno

200 gr burro morbido

150 gr zucchero bianco

50 gr zucchero di canna

80 gr noci brasiliane

120 gr nocciole

5 uova

1 cucchiaio di lievito

guarnizione:

confettura di frutti di bosco rossi

ingredients

Here's how it goes. Preheat the oven to 180 degrees. In a bowl, work the butter with brown sugar and half of the white. When it is foamy, add the walnuts and hazelnuts, finely chopped. Then add the buckwheat flour and egg yolks one at a time to act as a binder. Finally, add the yeast. If the mixture becomes too thick, you can make it smoother with a little milk.

the dough as soft as a butter cream, before adding the egg whites

A parte montate a neve ben ferma i bianchi d'uovo con lo zucchero rimanente ed un pizzico di sale.

i bianchi d'uovo montati a neve ferma

Unite l'impasto con il bianco d'uovo con delicatezza, ottenendo una spumosità del composto.

l'impasto finale nello stampo di cottura

Mettete in uno stampo e cuocete in forno per 45 minuti circa.
Quando la torta sarà fredda, spaccarla a metà ed add a layer of jam.

the filling with jam

the buckwheat cake ready to be cut

Serve and eat ...

If you know the recipe, you may have noticed some changes (such as Brazil nuts and sugar cane) that are not just characteristics of the Trentino. Well, I had some change but try it, no?

And here the second part of the story.

I remember in particular this cake. The evening of August, after a day intense and tiring for everyone. At lunchtime, the cabin was filled with dozens of onlookers who had come to see how cheese is made. People for the most part they had never seen an animal up close if not dogs and cats from the apartment. Women in furs and men with rolex wrist and catenoni gold around his neck, went up with unrealistic quantities of machinery and rumori assordanti. I ragazzi della malga avevano servito decine di pasti caldi, spiegato come si produce il formaggio, risposto a domande imbarazzanti (una signora armata di lifting e cerone aveva chiesto se per prendere il caglio dallo stomaco dei vitelli, questi  venissero anestetizzati), pulito le sporcizie che solamente un popolo incivile può lasciare al suo passaggio. 

Ma a fine giornata, nella stube della malga, era partito un piccolo concerto con una chitarra e la fisarmonica. Una festicciola per chi era rimasto, per quei pochi che avevano il privilegio di vedere il tramonto e l'alba a 2000 metri.  Le musiche della montagna , i songs that have accompanied the rise. De Gregori, De Andrè, Guccini ...

The tired of those who work for you when you're on vacation, and also the joy of those who share the good things to strangers.

The cake just before we had been served and that I would remain, and again and again. Just the buckwheat cake that her mother was every day in the kitchen. The decoration with cream of the milk of their cows, those that did turn up the pastor at 4 am for grazing. The taste of wild berries of those mountains.

An ancient taste, a strong emotion.

Why it is good to remember through the senses. A smell, taste, color or a color. And it's even better to share your memories with friends . And feel the music in my ears that night while tasting a piece of your cake fresh from the oven.