Mediterranean Food Page #7

Let's go. We're making the cream.

Thanks!

Thanks, really!

But I'm not

the best cook in the world.

And I'm not the best mum,

nor the best daughter,

nor the best wife,

nor the best friend.

Ina

The only thing I can do

is what you all do: cook.

The more I cook,

the more I see cooking

is something big.

It's so big I got lost myself

and can't go back home.

And suddenly Sofia gets back

the four ?avors of life:

Savory,

acid,

sweet,

savory:

Sweet,

bitter,

savory:

Acid,

acid,

sweet,

savory:

Savory:

Sweet,

bitter,

sweet.

In all these years

I learn something:

It's OK to make mistakes,

the main thing is

to keep on searching.

Come on, come on.

I won't make it! I won't!

The jacket, Alex.

Son! Careful with the stew.

Sofia 3 last children

is about to be born.

It's a woman and it's me.

Think of something else.

Let's breath and think

of something beautiful.

The sun, the beach, the sea...

The sea, fine. The sea.

I'll weight 3 kilos and 800 grams,

and I'll be very dark.

I'll have Toni's green eyes

and Frank's ?eshy lips.

That's it, I got it.

What?

I just saw the dish

I've been dreaming all my life.

What is it, honey?

For nine months, my mum

has fed me the story I just told,

but I'll forget it when I'm born,

H! be too busy

learning how to live.

I love the name my parents

chose for me:

It will be Monday.

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