Tasting History: when a bite brings back the past

For Kitchen Wishes, Food Is a Key to Deep Emotion

For Kitchen Wishes, food is a key — a way to unlock deep, hidden emotions.

That’s why, when I talk about history and memory, I’m not referring to the rediscovery of medieval or Renaissance recipes,
but to something much more personal: our own stories.

Every dish we’ve ever eaten has triggered networks of thoughts,
towers of memories, entire sensory cities.

To seek out those specific tastes and aromas
is to embark on a journey through time and space.

I’ll admit it — my own culinary memories are rather questionable.
As a child, I used to love mozzarella with sugar (not buffalo mozzarella, though — there are limits)
and onions baked with béchamel.

I miss my grandmother’s patate in garbo — steamed potatoes with bay leaf and white vinegar —
but, if I’m honest, it’s mostly because I miss her.
The memory of the day she taught me how to make them is especially dear to me.

On the other hand, in the darker corners of my mental pantry
lie some of my worst nightmares:
the revolting chicken liver tagliatelle my mother insisted on serving at regular intervals,
despite the family’s collective looks of despair —
and worst of all, the infamous butter-and-raw-garlic crostini
that, for mysterious “therapeutic” reasons,
I was forced to eat for breakfast around age twelve.

The social consequences, as you can imagine, were catastrophic.
Let’s just say my therapist probably owes his yacht to those garlic toasts.

As you can see, none of these dishes would exactly make a gourmet’s list.
But don’t worry — in Kitchen Wishes, I’m the one who writes.
At the stove you’ll find Giulia and Elena,
whose culinary memories, I assure you, are far better than mine.

Still, today’s “recipe that doesn’t exist” isn’t my own —
mainly because I doubt anyone else would enjoy it.
It’s my story, after all.
Not yours.