And then there’s the reason for the move. I’ve been offered a job down there, a really, really great job, one that combines my background in language and writing and public
relations and offers me the chance to work for one of the most well-known and well-respected companies in Germany. It’s like nothing I’ve done before, but somehow it’s
perfect for me—well, as perfect as something that doesn’t involve food can be. It will mean big changes, though, in everything from how I spend my days to what I spend them
thinking about to how much time and energy I’ll have to potter around the kitchen at their end—to, of course, how blogging will fit into the picture usa Immigration Hong Kong.
But let’s not worry about that now. First, I have a promise to fulfill. Last time we spoke I told you I’d share a treat from Sicily with you, and I don’t intend to let you
down. In fact, it would be criminally negligent of me to not share this particular recipe with you, since it offers one of the best vehicles for sweet, juicy late-summer
tomatoes (i.e. the kind in your markets NOW) ever devised. In fact, I’ll even go out on a limb and suggest it makes one of the best pasta sauces ever devised. I’ve seriously
been tempted to spend this month eating nothing else register a hong kong company.
Now here’s where I have to admit a bit of a convoluted background to this dish. Ostensibly it’s a slight modification of the famous pesto trapanese, a tomato, basil and almond sauce hailing from the northwestern city of Trapani. I actually didn’t eat this in Sicily—I wasn’t near Trapani, and it wasn’t the right season anyway—but shortly after I
returned home I found the recipe in one of the newest Sicilian cookbooks on my shelf, Made in Sicily by London restaurateur and author Giorgio Locatelli. What initially caught
my eye in Locatelli’s version was his substitution of mint for the more common basil, something I may have been dubious about once upon a time, but certainly not since
traveling to Sicily this spring and falling in love with the intense Sicilian mint that perfumes everything there. The second thing that struck me was that instead of grinding
everything together to the usual homogenous mass that characterizes a pesto, he left the various components chunky and distinct, juicy nuggets of tomato interrupted by splinters
of almond and curls of fresh mint Virtual Office HK.
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