Moments: where food comes to life through sound, motion, and vision

A Midsummer Night’s Dream
(The tale of an evening told by Michele Mingrone — guest and copywriter for Kitchen Wishes)

“Through bush, through briar, through flood, through fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon’s sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green…”
(W. Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act II, Scene I)

Who says a dinner can’t become a dream?

I arrive, almost shyly, at the entrance of a magnificent garden where something special is about to happen:
“Momenti”, a multisensory evening organized by a group of brilliant, visionary madmen.

They are the magicians of Kitchen Wishes — Giulia, Elena, and Giulio —
conducting a kind of symphony made up of entertainers, chefs, dancers, mixologists, painters, designers, and musicians,
all united in transforming an aperitif into a moment of alchemical magic.

Those who don’t dream big are destined for mediocrity — and Kitchen Wishes, a place of the soul populated by witches and wizards, is anything but mediocre.

So I step into the garden, ready to be surprised, nourished, and transported elsewhere —
on a journey in stages, like a labyrinth where every corner hides a small reward.

The Journey Begins

At the entrance to the labyrinth, the first taste is simple: water and bread.
Simple, yes — but also the Alpha and Omega.
A fitting way to begin the voyage.

Like a modern Theseus searching for a delicious Minotaur,
I’m invited to sit on a soft pouf en plein air by a young woman dressed in white, her hair blazing red in the sunset.

The first bite: a green, spicy cream paired with a sweet, refreshing drink — perhaps lemon balm.
Ethereal music drifts through the garden as a dancer moves slowly in the fading light.
Every sense is under gentle attack, all at once.

The second stop arrives quickly and playfully:
two girls skipping rope feed me a savory eggplant crostino as I pass.
Two more follow — same base, different preparation — leading me to a floral portico where a cucumber-infused spritz awaits.

Further on, a pixie-like boy slices vegetables, sculpting tiny edible artworks with chickpea hummus, beet sauce, and vibrant greens.
A mysterious woman in antique clothing offers a basket of focaccia and a glass of red wine.

At every stop, the music changes — following the emotional wave of the moment —
and the Kitchen Wishers scattered through the park lovingly explain their creations.

The Magic Grows

At the center of the garden, an elfin dance troupe prepares potato croquettes,
moving rhythmically as the dish takes form before our eyes.
To taste it, you must kneel — and it’s Giulia, dressed in black with aquamarine hair,
who offers it like a small, sacred communion.

From tall metallic towers, the sounds of knives slicing echo in the air —
even the noises of the kitchen become rhythm and ritual.

The final area is shared by a cocktail master and a culinary artist, side by side.
Guests pick their own herbs — thyme, mint, basil — to personalize their drinks,
mixing nature with invention.

The main course area offers three paths, each better than the last:
vegan, vegetarian, and omnivorous.
The format recalls street food, but the flavors —
tiny, colorful atomic explosions — are far from ordinary.

I choose all three:
a stunning Angus burger with ricotta, arugula pesto, and marinated agretti;
a sandwich with mustard, eggplant, and tomato;
and finally, a crostone of roasted peppers, cheese, and dark chocolate — a divine contrast.

Nearby, a guitarist fills the evening with soft arpeggios and swinging rhythms.

A Night Out of Time

As night falls, the dancer-chefs glow in the darkness,
recreating the spell of the “magic croquette,”
while guests wander again through the garden-labyrinth,
re-tasting, chatting, and relaxing on cushions and blankets spread over the grass,
among flowers and laughter.

In another corner of this enchanted forest,
a violinist suddenly appears —
a final incantation to close the night.

The Dream Made Real

Kitchen Wishes is all of this:
Wishes made real — but also Witches of the kitchen,
capable of conjuring a hypnotic enchantment,
a gentle suspension of reality.

For one midsummer night,
they transported me into a world of dancing sprites, moonlit elves, and culinary fairies —
beings straight out of a dream,
ready to delight all five senses with the smile of those who truly love what they do,
and who, every day, still seek to amaze — and be amazed.

“So good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.”
(W. Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act V, Scene I)