Hey, my name is Luana
and I live in my kitchen
Whenever I talk to my mom on the phone and ask her “where are you?”, the usual standard answer is “I’m on my natural habitat”. It’s always been like that. Do you want to find mom? Go look in the kitchen.
And as the saying goes… the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. It really doesn’t! And how proud I am to be able to say that the kitchen is my natural habitat. The same kitchen that leads me to so many loving memories.
My grandma from my father’s side making pasta, tomato sauce, soup… My grandma from my mother’s side baking cake, making cheese bread, polenta… My grandma blending lemon and passion fruit juice… Mummy making a bit of everything (except baking) in a home that held 3 dinner manus a day in order to please everyone… Daddy making grilled cheese on the frying pan and the small of burning bread on the kitchen…
In the end, as we already knew, we confirmed that food is filed with feelings. It’s sharing, it’s love, it’s tenderness, it’s caring.
And it’s so damn tasty!