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caffè al ginseng cannella carezze

The aroma of cinnamon, caresses and ginseng coffee

by Maria Rosaria Pantone

It was their first breakfast together. Like all first times, between surprise and shyness, there was also a little bit of fear. The waitress came to table 4, the nearest to the window, as if their story was destined for the stage. Protagonists of a moment, of a simple instant, of a dream with the eyes open interrupted by the phrase: Hi guys. What shall I bring you? An exchange of glances and that spontaneous smile. Two wholemeal croissants and two coffees, but his voice was interrupted by the sound of hers: for me, a ginseng coffee, thanks.

 

Here, in his eyes, the certainty of having made a mistake and the tenderness of not knowing.

From that morning at the end of summer their times together are filled with French vanilla, caresses, perfumed candles, soft music and plans. Of words and looks. The pauses, however, have the fragrance of ginseng coffee.

The arrival of something new in life can be destabilising; there’s certainly a change.

Whether it’s unexpected or desired, it’s necessary to learn to be surprised for the attention, the good mornings and the goodnights, to accept that someone is taking care of you. Freeing the emotions in this way as if you have a stick of cinnamon in your hand and the fragrance expands through the house.

Finding complicity and making a cake together, mixing the ingredients, one at a time, coordinating movements with a look and listening to songs that both like to sing softly, turn the house into a unique place. Messing around with the flour and cinnamon, sure that their apple cake, made with simplicity and love, will be a work of art. Christmas is coming, and together with the colours and magic atmosphere in the air, their meeting becomes more special every timeo.

 

Fear disappears while every moment they spend together becomes essential.

The cake is in the oven; she’s on the red settee covered with the blue blanket with the computer on her legs; he’s tidying up the kitchen and looks at her while her fingers run over the keyboard before a screen that fills with letters. She’s beautiful, he thinks, and moves towards her to tell her sweetly. Too often, in the past, they have kept inside what should be said. Now, it’s not easy, but the moment has come to begin to express their sentiments, emotions, desires and even dreams.

 

He, tall and with hazelnut eyes, approaches her silently.

On the tray, shortbread biscuits and her preferred coffee, the special coffee, the one she likes, homemade. “Ginseng & matcha for you”, a new taste for the autumn afternoons they are spending together. He chooses the coffee with care to match it to sensations and emotions. Details are important, an embrace, the perfumed candles, the right song. The glass cup in his hands, and the eyes of someone who feels important, the green hopeful colour and that Japanese taste that give you a feel of the Orient, even just for the time of a sip.

 

The cake is ready. The house is now filled with the fragrance of passion, apples and cinnamon.

For a moment that place turns into a world; there are no geographic coordinates; that small space is much more than a physical location. For him, instead, Golden Milk, another story with a yellow colour, an alternative to the classic coffee. This is the perfect pause to make you feel elsewhere, to construct that path called life and to do it together. Everything in a natural way, exalting their presence, the gestures, the looks, the words. There’s that memory of the trip to Sri Lanka with the aroma of cinnamon; there’s Abruzzo with the local apples; there’s granddad’s eggs and lemons; there’s the taste of matcha with the dream of a journey to Japan; there’s the voice, their voice. There’s the happiness of small things. There’s love.