Entré and dessert. Entre-actes. 9 eggplants thrown into the Romanian zacusca. Don’t ask how many red peppers. Many. Best olive oil following the inner eye. The pineal gland’s apple in the eye made up by Zeus, the Greek finest olive oil – or that's what they claim. Crossing something to the des(s)ert. On a fish marinade's back. Then to the Romanian many divine names, ‘cozonac cu nuca,’ the walnut cake, the muse. The whole 900 grams of walnuts crush your palate into a sublime ‘everything is as it should be.’ Everything. When La Déesse gets cooking, all the fools that go through her without getting it are doomed to walking in the rain. A soft rain that will never let go.


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