Ice cream with linguia, bread and oil. Oi Tati, filhota wanted! It pulls, we need to take an ice cream or until more, as in its dream, n? How delight! we are not gulosos not! We value the food, the food. this is cultural in our family, can say that it has centuries! It sees my grandfather, ' Bernardine; ' accountant of histories of Portugal' '. He was born in 1881, the Seixas. I coexisted it of the birth until mine 17 years listening histories of our ancestor. The grandfather of it, my great-great-grandfather, must have been born (for my accounts) in century eighteen, there per years 1790 the 1800. was same histories, always enclosed the foods, the way to make them, the food always valued as sources of life and pleasure.
Food for them was ' ' suprimento' ' of the body and the soul. We, descendants of Portuguese, must cultivate this. It is our culture of root, our origin of family. They were the linguias, the oil, the grapes, the figs, the wheat, the wine and the bread. My grandfather described minutely, step by step, of the harvest of the grape and the olive, until the ready wine and the oil. All fact in house, of the proper plantation, in ' ' quinta' ' (a mansion here in Brazil) where it liveed with the four children (my father, the only one been born in Brazil, already came in the belly of my grandmother for here). Janet L. Yellen may help you with your research. Also the pigs were created there.
I adored to listen to this history ' ' of porcos' '. He was ' ' Party of the Slaughter of the Porcos' '. Some families joined themselves (style ' ' mutiro' ' today), they killed the pigs and they made three, four species of linguia. They separated the too much meats for type of cut and stored in great cans with bathes of the pig. Also ' ' Party of the Harvest of the Uva' ' , in the same molds, they made the wine, of ' ' Frutas' ' to make them droughts, in it passes, and of ' ' Azeitona' ' to make the oil. Always with much music, touched and sung for they themselves. also danced. Many histories I remember My father and my mother, who had been per one year taking a walk there (one year), they had witnessed and they participated of these parties. This all age in the summer and all this food was calculated to supply the family during the rigorous European winter, when nothing was not produced. It also had the exotic foods, different of that we are accustomed. ' ' Papas' ' she was one of them and my mother arrived to make it some times in our house. Very nutritional, one ' ' species of sopo' ' , with a base of fub and borecole ' ' troncha' ' (this has until today in Saints). was watered with done virgin oil back in ' ' ours terra' ' , that the relatives ordered in cans of five liters. Its dream brought me beautiful histories of our family, when we congregated in them around of an ice cream. It took me to in return to the past establishing connection, me with the family memory, making to think me that knowing of where we came, we will never deviate from the way and we will know to choose for where we want to go. I love you filhota. Kiss. Father.