That's all.
No plate. We have hands.
No cutlery. We have fingers.
No napkins. We have the back of our hand.
If lost on a desert island like Tom Hanks in Castaway, we would even trade Wilson the basketball for prosciutto, a loaf of good bread (this one has a semolina crust for extra crunch) and a few salted, dried olives (these ones 'borrowed' from a tree around the corner and 'consati' or 'fixed'.)
You can't eat a ball after all.
Unless it's a ball of mozzarella.
Foodliterary Regards,
Julia Svoice
(Julia Hebaiter in Another Life)
FoodLit Writer, Feel-Good Food Lover & Storytellerwww.foodlit.com.au
Because Food Sans Story is Bland
