The increase in the price of bread becomes the symbol of a historic crisis, of a catastrophic two-year period marked by the pandemic, by the disintegration of the social system, by the pollution of the cultural system, by war, by speculation on the price of essential “materials”. Have we returned to the days when the poor ate “black bread” and only the rich put “white” bread on the table?
Ingredients: slices of stale bread, 1 glass of milk, 6 eggs, 2 tablespoons grated provolone del Monaco, extra virgin olive oil, parsley, butter, salt and black pepper. Collect the breadcrumbs from the stale bread in a bowl, cover it with milk, after a while squeeze it and add it, in a bowl, to the already beaten eggs and stir with a fork, grated cheese, parsley chopped, pepper and salt. Mix delicately until you obtain a perfect amalgam which you will place in a non-stick frying pan, already “veiled” with oil and butter. Cook it like a normal omelette, turning it over so that both sides are golden brown. The bread omelet should be served warm, preferably (www. the silver spoon).
We will hit rock bottom and so we will rise again. Homemade bread will open our eyes, it will push us out of patterns of selfishness and the belief that there are only two people in the world, “me and me”, will allow us to rediscover the values of community. . It’s an illusion, perhaps, but in these sad times we ask illusions to rescue us from the coils of absolute grayness, and to help us view with disgust the most disgusting aspect of human history: the wealth of a few nourished and consolidated by the poverty of all the others. I remember what Piero Camporesi wrote about the “misty chimney” which, in peasant houses, “was a kind of astral conduit which placed the interior in communication with the distant immensity of the heavens” and attracted the people’s attention to the voice of the wind that “fans the flame and imperceptibly lifts the ashes in which the old men read the “fortune”. Of course, all this will not come back, but homemade bread will not disappoint us: its power has no limits. Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher emperor, wrote: “When the bread is baked, certain parts break, and these cracks, which in a certain way contrast with what the art of the baker promises , have their own grace and stimulate the appetite in a very special way. Likewise figs, when fully ripe, open. And to olives left too long to ripen on the tree, the fact that they are on the verge of rotting give a particular beauty time.” In bread there is everything, as in wine: mythology, religion, the mystery of life and death, the mystery of the resurrection of Christ, food, image – archetype of vitality. Bread radiates its symbolic power over the entire system of which it is the center: the earth; the ear; the sheaf; the weed that threatens crops; the scythe and the reaper, the cupboard. Bread was always kneaded with the right hand: the ecclesiastical courts, still in the 16th century, were severe against women accused of kneading bread with the left: if they had not respected the ritual procedure of kneading and baking, they were certainly planning to “hire” the man to whom they would offer this bread. Even blacker suspicion falls on the women who hid the ashes of the “bread ovens”. The bread is not thrown away. And speculating on bread – and on pasta – is not just games of ill repute: it is sacrilege.