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I haven’t eaten egg pasta since 1994

I haven’t eaten egg pasta since 1994

It was a sunny day in Milan. The sun was shining and my winter jacket was keeping me way too warm.
I am talking about North Milan.
South Milan wasn’t as good. The sun decided to go for a walk, and the sky looked like the pot of a mean witch; a tangle of grey smokes.
Maybe the sun decided to go into hibernation; the fog finally managed to conquer the scene and cold temperatures were having their moment of glory.
However, the whole view wasn’t that bad; I love all shades of grey and this drastic change of weather and landscape seemed very pleasant to me.

We headed to Zelata, a place immersed into fog, and reached one of those trattoria restaurants with an old sign that I liked so much.
It is so warm inside; yellow walls, wood tables, and lots of grey hats.
It was one of those meat-based restaurants featuring only one vegetarian choice on the menu; rye pasta with vegetables.
I haven’t eaten egg pasta since 1994, but I hate being one of those people who doesn’t eat meat and complains about the fact that “us” vegetarians have such an hard time when it comes to go to restaurants.
This was one of those family restaurants were the dad – who is also the owner – is always running here and there because there is so much to do.
I had the chance to meet Mr Carlo – the dad – only at the end of my lunch. A 84-year-old man blessed by Jesus Christ, the Virgin, lots of white wine and the Holy Spirit.
He was wearing a Champion red hat and a shirt.
“Nice shirt Mr Carlo”.
He told me its brand but I can’t remember it.

He took me for a tour around restaurant and its surrounding. He showed me the veggie gardens, the woodshed, the old ice-house, and even his son’s new house.
“Please, go ahead”.
“Do you know that I have always traveled alone on my bicycle? My wife never wanted to come along, so I have always left on solo journeys”.
“Do you want to photograph me? Please, go ahead”.
And I did photographed him. I even shot a video.

We took our bikes and avoided my number one enemy – the highway – and drove along fields and sheep; the road seemed hanging in the air and it took us all the way to Bereguardo, the perfect spot for a photo shoot.
We drove back along my second biggest enemy – darkness; I came back home knowing that I need a crash helmet, a new muffler, some bike bags. I also need to travel more. Much more (by bike).

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