Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Monday, 18 February 2013
Italian breakfasts (an anecdote)
I have blogged before about Italian breakfasts. For some reason I thought about it today, maybe because my breakfasts often consist now of sweet things. Italian breakfasts are sweet, high in sugar and well, decadent. From my experience, they often consisted of Nutella spread on bread slices, figs, Amaretto biscuits (in the morning!) and sometimes... Well, sometimes heavier things. So today I remembered one particular Italian breakfast, after a night out in Bergamo, when my closest Italian friend, her boyfriend and some friend of theirs brought me to a bar that was serving Guinness. It had been a hot Italian night, lots of Guinness had been drunk (for some reason the Italian guys I knew then really loved Guinness, they couldn't stop drinking it, even in a heatwave, I might make it the topic of a post one day). So the next morning, I was nursing a powerful hangover at my friends's place. There was breakfast. It was a chocolate cake. "Heavy cake", as my friend said, seemingly satisfied that we had such filling breakfast. To this day, I do not understand how I could eat such piece of cake with the state my stomach and head were in. But I did, because I survived. And since then, I don't find it weird when I occasionally crave chocolate cake or blueberry pie or dessert in the morning. I still share a certain taste for shameless gastronomical Italian decadence.