Minneapolis, my house, your car's dashboard Marcos a bunch of dried flowers cover the filler air and dust and scatters petals when she leaves the air conditioner. The Hundai is his girlfriend, who has many problems every year to renew the visa and get the stamps start from Ho Chi Minh City. The forced stop for about a month, so he's left the car. He faded flowers reminiscent of a weekend of love in Tenneesee, I do not run a superstitious dad. Tear off a pass to my neighbor and friend Marcos, allow me to fill the refrigerator, which in a month I had not done since the distance between the bus stop and my house is exactly one mile and I can not bring too many parcels. If I think of the concept of a stateless person dear to my teacher in high school letters, Marcos is the archetype: gentiori Japanese, born and raised in St. Paul University in Maryland, Ph.D. in Minneapolis girl in Vietnam, three languages \u200b\u200bfluently, no historical depth ( Marcos who? Me?; That weird guy Lula, I know nothing of HIM; Mussolini? Is he still the chief? ). It physiatry, currently vivisection mice and one Sunday I have helped grease the future victims: I'm sorry, but there are no numerical models for many types of disease, a mouse costs $ 1 and is similar in some respects to the man (I had always suspected). Marcos asks many questions about the Italian food amongst other things because it is an excellent cook, invent recipes, always invites me to prove his soup (the last one, a bell pepper with a touch of raw garlic) and opts for vegetarian cooking. Passing between the supermarket, I wonder about brands, combinations, ways in which you eat certain cheeses. I am frankly tired of the tomato minnesotese, a sort of highlander the fridge that shrivels even after a month, sweet, watery and unfit sauce, pasta Da Vinci goes soft after a minute and red onion in Wisconsin that mimics that of Tropea without having the flavor. I do not try Italian food, I avoid them with care since whenever disappoint me, I buy vegetables, meat and rice. As long as the sausage stand, the index of Marcos tip a corner sheltered from beef loin and pork chops: is it Italian? Mild Italian Sausage. The sausage in packs of 6 for $ 3, there is a 3 to 2 with six dollars and will take home 18. Half an hour later, 18 salami, 6 of which are flavored with fennel, traveling to my home in the trunk of Hundai. Let's go back to seven and now I feel it: Preheat the griddle, a drizzle of olive oil, a clove of garlic finely chopped, a little onion, open the sausage in half and crushed it against the plate by turning it several times on both sides. When I put in the bread is cooked, add tomato slices, onion, mayonnaise and salad: the missing spice. The first bite me back in Argonne Avenue corner square Fusina, 300 meters from home. Arabic or French? Telma French, put the spice. Nostalgia rogue. I put two sausages on plate, Marcos name and appearance. It is a culinary experiment: he hates junk food, hamburgers and hot dogs disgusted. But the experiment works, it's like sausage and asks me if it is very popular in Italy because Brazil has never eaten. He wants an encore. Skald a sliver of Asiago, add it to the sausage flavored with fennel, two beers and one begins. We finish a pack, three sausages each, an evening mumbling and talking about women and sausages. The sausage, as well as highly successful social experiment in culinary, friendship and camaraderie ago: Marcos, usually confidential, I looked through books and CDs, I wonder if soon Neruda's poetry that does not know who (I guess it has drawn the cover), look in the closet and I envy the sweatshirt from the squatter Rebelot bought for 20 €. The effect lasts a long sausage because only one and half chose to go up in his apartment. When I close the door, I see the deal: a sandwich kiosk in Copacabana, with a half-Ciccio for salama da sugo and Tomino Novara, the center sends the Piedmontese beef sausage from Unity Day and holds happiness in four square meters. You know we do instead? Let's go, let's go to Brazil, we think, in Brazil, take a ... Moraldo steamer, a steamer and set off.
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