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A year of Italian cooking


Kevin72

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I make my own pasta, but only handroll it very occasionally. I was debating doing it this time but ran out of time in the kitchen.

ahh...honesty! Well, good for you for at least making the pasta! It really does make a difference and its just not all that hard or time consumming.

Looking forward to whatever is next!

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Earlier last week I made penne carbonara, another classic Roman trattoria dish: pasta that is dressed with cured pork (bacon in this case) and an emulsion of raw eggs, ample black pepper, and parmigiano and pecorino cheese. The heat from the pasta cooks the eggs.

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One of the first threads I remember luring me to eGullet was the "Spaghetti Carbonara" thread (too lazy to look up the URL, sorry) discussing among other things, the dish's origin. As I said earlier, Dowden has a number of interesting sidebars on certain dishes, and in the case of carbonara, he does explore its somewhat acrimonious origins. He dismisses the popular myth that it was created for or by American GIs in WWII and goes with the theory that it originated with the charcoal-makers, who would venture into the forests outside Rome for weeks at a time, tending the long, slow fires necessary to turn wood into charcoal. They needed to bring with them food that wouldn't go bad, hence the cured meat and cheeses, and they probably brought chickens too for eggs and ultimately meat. This does beg the issue of them bringing along a large pot and enough pasta to live off which seems impractical, but the history has a romantic appeal to it.

The secondo was saltimbocca alla Romana: chicken breast wrapped around prosciutto and sage, braised with marsala and mushrooms.

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Edited by Kevin72 (log)
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Friday was another Roman seafood feast.

Appetizer was bruschetta with spicy shrimp, mint, and fennel.

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This is thoroughly bastardized from the true Roman dish that Mario Batali orignally made: scampi with nepitella. Nepitella is a wild mint favored by the Romans. Batali says that it tastes like a cross between mint and fennel (fronds), but most other resources I've read say it's more like mint and oregano or marjoram. Dowden offers using pennyroyal as the best substitute; they are in the same family. I tried growing pennyroyal last spring and it never got big enough to harvest, then withered in the summer heat.

Scampi, aka langoustines, look like shrimp crossed with lobsters or pink crawfish. Central Market here in Dallas carried them for a short time right when they opened but then discontinued them when they predictably didn't sell well. I only got to try them once and of course now regret not snapping them up every time I saw them. Shrimp >sigh< had to stand in their place.

The secondo was striped bass with clams, tomato, olive, and fennel seeds.

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Saturday's meal was a recreation of some of the dishes we had at La Campana, Rome's oldest continuous restaurant, which we ate at on our first night in Italy and is discussed in my Top 5 meals thread.

Antipasto: Fried artichokes

Primo: Bucatini all'Amatriciani

Secondo: Lamb chops "scotaditti"

Contorno: Green beans with mint

Dolce: Cherry tart

The antipasto is a loose translation of carciofi alla giudea, the famous fried artichokes of the Jewish Ghetto, Trastevere. In the traditional version, baby or large artichokes are trimmed only of their tough outer leaves and then fried whole in olive oil. Like french fries, they are fried twice: the first at a low temperature to cook them through, then finished at a higher temp to brown and crisp them. As they cook they are pressed against the bottom and sides of the pan to spread their inner leaves out, so that they wind up looking like a fried flower when served.

I modified this dish because of the poor quality of artichokes available in Texas. They are usually a little more dried out and so crack and split easily, and American artichokes have the large, copious choke to clean out, which further endangers their structure. To make it a little easier I trim and halve them, scoop out the chokes, then sliver them and fry them that way. You loose the aesthetic appeal of the real dish but retain that golden, crunchy, delicious flavor.

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Bucatini all'Amatriciani is my second or third favorite pasta dish (neck and neck with linguine with clams), and the first thing that springs to mind when I think of Roman cooking. This is probably the reason I wanted to get guanciale since when I tried it in Rome it gave the dish a meatier depth of flavor. Standing in for the guanciale was the bacon I discussed upthread, and while that "meaty" flavor was missing from the sauce, I must admit I like the faint smoky flavor it gives up in return. Further affronting tradition, I use onions and garlic, two no-no's according to Dowden's research on the dish. In fact according to Dowden, 1the version I've made is Pasta all'arrabiatta, since Amatriciani sauce can only be made with guanciale, and any other cured pork makes it arrabiatta style.

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For the secondo we had lamb "scotaditti", usually served right off the grill, and are named thus because they look so good you burn your fingers grabbing them right away. At La Campana I think they were pan-seared, and may have even had a flour coating on them. To protect them on the grill I wrapped them in pancetta, which melted nicely into the lamb. My wife admitted after this that she is now a lamb convert, so Resolution #1 that I mentioned way back is a success!

For the contorno it was another variation of green vegetables slowly braised in olive oil and a trace amount of water and then finished with mint, this time green beans.

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Dessert was a cherry tart. I've finally conquered my pastry fears and can make a pretty good pastry dough (thanks to Carol Field's book The Italian Baker). But I still can't get a damned lattice to save my life. It's either too thin, or falls apart trying to put it on, or the filling absorbs it.

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Continuing to slap Roman traditions in the face, for Sunday brunch I made "fake tripe" alla Romana.

Tripe available here in the U.S. is noticeably pungent and organ-y, and even if my wife would have gone for making it, I don't think I'd want the hassle of scrubbing and blanching it, not to mention the smell it would leave. So I based this off a "fake tripe" dish Mario Batali made using thin fritatte cut up into ribbons. I mixed braised pork shoulder in with the eggs to give them a meatier depth.

The whole reason I wanted to cook the dish even so heavily modified was just as a vehicle for the spicy tomato and mint sauce and blankets of pecorino cheese, which would even make the average high schooler's sneakers taste good.

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Format note: I try to do all the entries at once. Is it preferable to keep them in one long entry or break them up? Long entries keep the number of pages down and tend to keep one month's worth of cooking on a page, but may make for monotonous reading, which is why I've started breaking them up into multiple entries.

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I have to say this is the most under-rated thread on eGullet.

I stop in every once in a while to see what Kevin is up to, and every single time it's a delight. I always learn so much and your thoroughness and dedication are wonderful. I don't always have time to comment, as there is so much going on on eG, but I wanted to let you know there are lots of us cheering you on. I feel like I'm discovering the wonders of Italian cuisine along with you.

Thank you for sharing, and keep up the good work!

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Ciao Kevin! Hah! I ate first before looking at your thread....I'm learning. Slowly. But surely! :laugh:

And now for my eternal questions:

What's on the artichokes? Parsley or mint? There is a restaurant in NY, Col Legno, that makes the most incredible fried artichokes. I can eat many, many of them, but they finish them with chopped mint. At first I thought that was a strange combo, but its marvelous.

Beautiful job on the scotto ditto! That is also one of my all time favorite dishes, only I could never get my butcher in NY to cut it properly for me, and he was from Naples. Go figure.

And eggs vs. tripe? Works for me! I have had enough organ meat and stray body parts in the last few weeks to last me for a good long time. Personally, I think its good to be the king! I want the cuts reserved for nobility! :laugh::biggrin:

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The secondo was saltimbocca alla Romana: chicken breast wrapped around prosciutto and sage, braised with marsala and mushrooms.

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Mouthwatering!!

But it isn't saltimbocca alla romana: saltimbocca alla romana are made with veal, prosciutto and sage (not marsala, but dry withe wine such as Frascati)

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What's on the artichokes? Parsley or mint?  There is a restaurant in NY, Col Legno, that makes the most incredible fried artichokes. I can eat many, many of them, but they finish them with chopped mint. At first I thought that was a strange combo, but its marvelous.

Both. Yeah, we all agreed we could put away plates of this stuff. My wife and I bickered over the one 'choke when we ordered it in Rome. Next night we got two to cut down on the squabbling.

Beautiful job on the scotto ditto! That is also one of my all time favorite dishes, only I could never get my butcher in NY to cut it properly for me, and he was from Naples. Go figure.

What's the way they're supposed to be cut? These were just some Frenched lamb chops from >coughcough*Costco*cough<. I started trimming fat off them to cut down on the lamb-y flavor my wife doesn't like and then realized that was challenging their integrity. They got a little floppy and ungainly.

Hey, what did you think of the fennel fest I did with the shrimp and bass?

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Mouthwatering!!

But it isn't saltimbocca alla romana: saltimbocca alla romana are made with veal, prosciutto and sage (not marsala, but dry withe wine such as Frascati)

Actually, the chicken dried out a little. :angry:

Well, you busted me on the chicken/veal thing. But both Culinaria: Italy and Mario Batali (whom I got the recipe from) use marsala for the cooking liquid. Dowden's version though is like the one you posted. I went back and forth on which one to do.

Edited by Kevin72 (log)
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Fantastic thread Kevin.

I haven't made much Italian since I married this French guy  :hmmm: but it's one of my favorite cuisines. I'm inspired now.

Well, you gotta show him who's boss, that's all there is to it. :biggrin: I won't say more since I don't want a "Dissing France on the Italy Board" thread started, but it's an effort.

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First of all, congratulations on a fantastic thread! I only started to read it the other week and I still have a lot of catching up to do. This rome month has really expanded my view of this region further than that of the most famous dishes. Now you've got me longing for a trip to Rome but I'll have to settle for the Downie book for now.

But I just lost interest and went out and bought a 2.25 lb slab of bacon from my butcher here in downtown Dallas. I blanched it  to remove some of the smoky flavor as some cookbook authors have directed, and then re-rubbed it with sugar, juniper, rosemary, and black pepper and will let it sit a few days to give it an additional flavor boost.  Let's see how it works out!

That sounds like a great way to treat smoky bacon to get it more pancetta like. I'll have to try it. Have you considered curing your own (flat) pancetta from scratch?

Bucatini all'Amatriciani is my second or third favorite pasta dish (neck and neck with linguine with clams), and the first thing that springs to mind when I think of Roman cooking.  This is probably the reason I wanted to get guanciale since when I tried it in Rome it gave the dish a meatier depth of flavor.  Standing in for the guanciale was the bacon I discussed upthread, and while that "meaty" flavor was missing from the sauce, I must admit I like the faint smoky flavor it gives up in return.  Further affronting tradition, I use onions and garlic, two no-no's according to Dowden's research on the dish. In fact according to Dowden, 1the version I've made is Pasta all'arrabiatta, since Amatriciani sauce can only be made with guanciale, and any other cured pork makes it arrabiatta style.

I've seen at least two receipes for amatriciana sauce that uses onions. These may not be true to the origins though. Have you checked with any other sources than Downie on this?

Well, you busted me on the chicken/veal thing.  But both Culinaria: Italy and Mario Batali (whom I got the recipe from) use marsala for the cooking liquid.  Dowden's version though is like the one you posted. I went back and forth on which one to do.

Almost all recipes I've seen on saltimbocca alla romana uses marsala. Why, one might ask, if a true roman version uses white wine?

Christofer Kanljung

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Bucatini all'Amatriciani is my second or third favorite pasta dish (neck and neck with linguine with clams), and the first thing that springs to mind when I think of Roman cooking.  This is probably the reason I wanted to get guanciale since when I tried it in Rome it gave the dish a meatier depth of flavor.  Standing in for the guanciale was the bacon I discussed upthread, and while that "meaty" flavor was missing from the sauce, I must admit I like the faint smoky flavor it gives up in return.  Further affronting tradition, I use onions and garlic, two no-no's according to Dowden's research on the dish. In fact according to Dowden, 1the version I've made is Pasta all'arrabiatta, since Amatriciani sauce can only be made with guanciale, and any other cured pork makes it arrabiatta style.

I've seen at least two receipes for amatriciana sauce that uses onions. These may not be true to the origins though. Have you checked with any other sources than Downie on this?

Be careful young Jedi :cool::biggrin: . Amatrician/Matriciana is one of those topics people could argue forever upon. Take a few Italian foodies, lock them in a room and ask them to discuss their version of Amatriciana and come back a six hours later... they'd still be arguing :rolleyes:, and that only if they haven't stabbed each other to death first.

I'll try to sum up what I know without taking parts (which I secretly do :wink: ).

Amatriciana comes originally from the city of Amatrice, in Latium today, but formerly belonging to Abruzzi. The original dish was simply pasta (spaghetti or penne, definitely not bucatini), guanciale and pecorino, eventually with a little dried chili pepper. The introduction of tomatoes seems quite recent since regional recipes collections, like Anna Gosetti della Salda's "Le ricette regionali Italiane" still has a white Amatriciana recipe. That said today the version with tomatoes is called Amatriciana while the white one is usually called Gricia.

The change from "purist" Amatriciana to the version with onions and also to the name Matriciana happened in Rome, where quite a few people from Amatrice had moved to right after the WWII. Apart onions, and occasionally garlic, the recipe also included a dash of white wine or even vinegar in some versions, like the famous one from the late Italian actor Aldo Fabbrizi, brother of Lella Fabbrizi, the original chef/owner of the restaurant "Da Sora Lella" on the Tiberine island in Rome. Some people even argue that the version with tomatoes originated in Rome and moved back to Amatrice.

Well, you busted me on the chicken/veal thing.  But both Culinaria: Italy and Mario Batali (whom I got the recipe from) use marsala for the cooking liquid.  Dowden's version though is like the one you posted. I went back and forth on which one to do.

Almost all recipes I've seen on saltimbocca alla romana uses marsala. Why, one might ask, if a true roman version uses white wine?

Good question, I can only agree with calimero that the Roman recipes I have (my mom's too, and she's a born and raised Roman) call for "vino dei castelli", i.e. whites form the Castelli Romani area like Frascati, Est!Est!!Est!!! and similar.

One reason I could think of for the marsala substitution is that Frascati used to be mainly amabile, i.e. a wine with a certain residual sweetness, in the past, less so today. So maybe the Marsala just tries to simulate that sweet note.

Il Forno: eating, drinking, baking... mostly side effect free. Italian food from an Italian kitchen.
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That sounds like a great way to treat smoky bacon to get it more pancetta like. I'll have to try it. Have you considered curing your own (flat) pancetta from scratch?

Actually I'm more interested in doing guanciale. As with any curing meat (unless someone can correct me on this) it almost seems like you need a separate fridge to suspend the meat in and let air-dry. I suppose I could arrange the meat on a wire rack over a tray and let it drain off that way, but it still requires quite a bit of room that I don't have. Plus if it does somehow go bad I'd want to minimize the damage.

The bacon I got was of really great quality, very nearly that dry-cured consistency that most Italian salumi have. Unfortunately blanching it reconstituted it somewhat, so I traded the texture for getting rid of the smoke. When I re-rubbed it with the spices I had let it sit for 4 days and it discharged an amazing amount of liquid. I removed all the rub then and wrapped it in paper towels and have been using it since.

I've seen at least two receipes for amatriciana sauce that uses onions. These may not be true to the origins though. Have you checked with any other sources than Downie on this?

Almost all recipes I've seen on saltimbocca alla romana uses marsala. Why, one might ask, if a true roman version uses white wine?

Yay, controversy at last! :biggrin: I know I've seen elsewhere someone say that "true" Amatriciani doesn't have onions and, especially, garlic but I don't have a definitive resource off the top of my head.

On a side note, I will say that when I had tomato sauce in both Rome and Puglia, it was just straight up passato (sp?), a puree of whole tomatoes, no aromatics or herbs in there at all. Sometimes it worked (in fact the Amatriciani I had in Rome was done this way) but other times it was just too tomato-y: I mentioned earlier the beef rolls that were sauced last minute with this passato. Also, one of the pastas we had in Puglia was sauced with passato and it was overwhelming. Funny as it sounds, onions and garlic seem to add something else like a lightness or zip to the sauce.

"Alla Romana" seems to be a broad and fairly abitrary term, and has nothing to do with local ingredients, so there's no use trying to penetrate its meaning attached to a dish with "foreign" ingredients like Marsala. Any time I start getting hung up on that terminology, I shrug and think, "hey, it's ROME!" and move on.

Thanks everyone for the input! Alberto just might have to get a credit in my bibliography if he keeps this up! :biggrin:

Edited by Kevin72 (log)
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Good lord, if you locked 6 Italian foodies in a room, there is absolutely no telling what would happnen, as each one is completely assured that they are 1000% correct on any given subject.

I have a whole new appreciation for the minutae of food origins...

Back to scottoditto: in my Umbrian neck of the woods, the lamb is very thinly cut, think half the width of a normal chop, and much more rough cut so that fat, gristle, bone are worked thru each piece and you have no choice but to burn your fingers and eat it.

And your fennel and shrimp looked superb!

Its a revelation to me how much fennel is used in Italy, its certainly undervalued in the U.S. Secondo me!

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That's funny you mention how the fat and gristle work their way into a proper scotaditto, Hathor.  When I had them in Rome in fact I remember that the only thing I'd change about them is that they were too gristly (probably a shoulder shop cut) and would remake them using loin chops instead.

But...then it wouldn't be scotto ditto. You have to munch and gnaw your away around the bits and pieces and get grimy and black grit under your fingernails. :raz: Uhmmm...its not a first-date meal... if you know what I mean..wink..wink... :laugh:

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Finishing up Rome.

Dinner one night last week and lunches the rest was a spicy soup of beans, fennel, and tomatoes. It was finished with parsley, basil, fennel fronds, and mint all chopped together and stirred in off the heat, then topped with pecorino and chili oil.

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The night I made it the herbs were very much a presence in the final dish and added a great counterpoint to the earthier tones. As it sat overnight though, the herb flavor predictably cooked out. The soup was still good but not as great as the first night. Also wish the fennel had played a stronger role.

Dinner Friday night was ricotta and mint gnocchi with a spicy sausage ragu, taken from a Mario Batali episode.

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Dessert was an attempt at the famous "chocolate truffle" of Tre Scalini in Rome. The truffle is a scoop chocolate gelato that is folded around a single preserved sour cherry and then rolled in more chocolate, and refrozen. The truffle and Tre Scalini are both given a writeup by Downie (*checks the name to make sure it's right*). We actually did manage to go in Rome on our last night there and, like Seth, I was really disappointed. We got stuck for the "sit down" trap of 24 Euros for two truffles and two capuccinos. Ugh. And I ate the cherry in mine without even knowing it.

Anyways, when I tried making them, the gelato melted too fast to work around the cherry, and furthermore I had accidentally bought a can of cherries pureed into syrup for a pie filling instead of whole cherries. I wound up just mixing the can in with the gelato and re-freezing the whole thing.

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The wife was out of town last weekend until last night, so it was bachelor food and leftovers for me.

That wraps up Rome. This has been the most fun and enjoyable cooking month for me so far (not that any of the others weren't), so much so in fact that Rome now moves into my coveted #2 Regional Italian cuisine spot.

Okay, Alberto, now do you want to guess what the next region will be? :biggrin:

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For May, I will be doing the spartan, earthy cuisine of Puglia.

I have long held a certain sort of fascination with Puglia, culminating of course with the trip there earlier this spring. But from my first encounters with it in cookbook literature, I was drawn to its straightforward, simple style, and any regional writeup on its cooking always left me impressed. It takes alot of confidence in your produce or seafood to grill it up and then serve it dressed only with olive oil and lemon juice, and that's how quite a bit of dishes in Puglia are done.

Puglia seems to combine elements of other great regions of Italy into one cuisine: like Emilia-Romagna, it has a rich, fertile soil and elaborate, handmade pasta traditions. Like Tuscany, it has an affinity for rustic, simple, homestyle cooking, plus a great reverance for baking and bread. Like Lazio and Rome, the Pugliese worship vegetables and are adept at cooking them, and like much of the rest of the South, they have a spicy kick to their food (but not as pronounced as in Calabria or Basilicata), and a great number of desserts and confectionary to draw from. Finally, combine all that with cooking traditions from Greece and Spain, both of whom occupied Puglia for long periods of time, and you have an endlessly fascinating cuisine, and one of the most micro-regional I've run across in my research.

Sadly, cooking literature on the subject is hard to come by. Primary reference for this month will be Nancy Harmon Jenkins' woefully short Flavors of Puglia. Despite my issues with Marlena di Blasi, her section on Puglia in Regional Foods of Southern Italy is one of her best. The Puglia chapter in Culinaria: Italy is also a standout.

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I kicked off Puglia by cooking its best-known dish, Orecchiette with bitter greens (I used broccoli rabe).

This is a dish I first read about in Marcella Hazan's The Classic Italian Cookbook, which is also where Puglia first caught my eye. It stood out because here among all these rich, robust pasta Northern dishes with sausage and butter and veal and cream was this simple, humble dish of bitter greens and anchovies. Too, Marcella does a great job in her introductory write-up of Puglia, an even more obscure region in 1979 (when this book was published) than it is today. Yes, she does give the telltale slips of more Northern Italian cooking: the pasta dough is made more of all-purpose flour than the traditional semolina flour, she omits the chilies, garnishes the dish with parmigiano, and even uses butter(!). Still, in a book filled with Northern Italian recipes, this dish stood out all the more, and I have to give her credit for starting my interest in this region.

I didn't make the pasta dough but did use orecchiette we bought on the trip. When I saw the package in the store, I bought it without thinking, excitedly believing it was the "burnt wheat" pasta that Ore so vividly described. It wasn't until after we left the store that I realized it was just whole-wheat pasta. I was actually surprised at the number of whole-wheat bread and pasta we ran across on our trip; I had fallen into the belief that most everything would be made instead with semolina flour, which grows in abundance in northern Puglia, near Foggia.

Still, the wheat flavor added a different touch to a dish I'd made many times before, making it seem even more humble and earthy. Basically, you braise bitter greens in plenty of olive oil with anchovies, garlic, and chilies. I pre-blanch the greens first though, to get rid of their overtly bitter edge, so I'm not a Pugliese yet! Rather than cheese (despite the cheese grater prominently in the background in the pic below), the dish is topped with toasted breadcrumbs to give it a textural crunch.

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Edit: What does "al Cruschello" mean? That's what the package of orecchiette calls them.

Edited by Kevin72 (log)
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I just wanted to add my congratulations Kevin - I hadn't checked up on this thread in a few months, and I'm really impressed with your dedication, I know that if this had been my resolution, there's no way I would have done such a thorough job or kept it up for more than a few weeks.

Cutting the lemon/the knife/leaves a little cathedral:/alcoves unguessed by the eye/that open acidulous glass/to the light; topazes/riding the droplets,/altars,/aromatic facades. - Ode to a Lemon, Pablo Neruda

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