Somehow, since moving here and the puff pastry becoming ubiquitous, I had forgotten my own humble origins. How a bite of a simple pastry could make my life feel rich and sumptuous. Because in the 10 minutes that I took to eat the egg puff (for at least an hour after), I forgot about how I was the awkward one in class, that my skin was too brown for a fairness obsessed culture, that I had no pretty clothes (OMG! that horrendous high waisted jeans I had! :O), that I was the weird kid in class who wore so big an A-line skirt that it looked like a ball gown because my mother chose the cheap tailor. No, for those minutes, I felt equal to the nobility who probably were the only ones who could have afforded such a pastry, only 50 years prior!

But Instagram brought it up! That community of food obsessed and passionate rekindled me. It all started with Giulia’s post on the Puglian rustici…!