WHAT: American pancakes with strawberries, banana and syrup.
WHY: l was a groupie and I didn’t know. My friend Gab is very good with internet, she can be the perfect detective. Starting from a single detail she discovers worlds. Well, she found out that the nice escaping father of my kid is a musician in an unknown (for me) indie rock band. And he was probably in tour when we met in Amsterdam. This explains lots of things, for example why he disappeared so soon and why he never talked about his job. Also, why my baby is so inclined to music, so attracted from any instrument or object that can emit a rhythmic sound. Since he was 9 month-old he asked (by gestures of course) for me to let the i-pod play, he asked for music and he danced with it. Unfortunately, things are not always what they seem to be. That gorgeous musician was not the man of my life and these two giant pancakes are not as wonderful as they look. There is a list of qualities that make them imperfect; too soft, too sweet and yet not savoury enough, the syrup is tasteless and the strawberries are also worst, plus they’re heated by the warmth of the pancake itself. I bought them in a franchising yogurt bar and they probably use a ready to use mix. In Sicily nobody sell homemade pancakes. In this case you better look for a good recipe on line and make pancakes yourself. But, can I do the same with the father of my baby? Can I just look for him trough the web?
WHERE: Modica
WHO: me
The greediest 