When you cook, your whole story is written down.

Everything you are comes out when you cook. Your history is there in the taste you try to recreate, the ingredients you use, the methods you employ.

And Christmas brings us back to the beginnings. To the earliest memories.

I found a recipe for Panzotti, a sweet  ravioli, filled with chestnuts, chocolate and cinammon. One bite, and I'm four, five, in a cold house with no heating system except the fireplace.  I'm dressed with sweaters and scarves, going to Midnight Mass, with a  panzotto in my pocket, looking forward to sharing it with Baby Jesus.

Our whole life is wrapped up with these tastes and smells.

When you cook, you stir up more than the pot in front of you.