Sometimes I ride behind someone, sometimes snort to my suggestion of disapproval, sometimes even flying on understanding the why of what I have been saying about the bread.
I'm told "looks to become paranoid with this setting on your bread, its use and its waste."
Well today I still have a memory molto amaro circa questo alimento.
A gennaio del 1940 cinque mesi prima dell'entrata in guerra dell'Italia il governo fascista dette il via alla distribuzione della carta annonaria per il razionamento di molti prodotti almentari tra i quali appunto il pane.
Alcuni di tali prodotti tipo caffè, carne, zucchero e altro o erano introvabili oppure appannaggio soltanto di persone agiate e "borsari neri" che potevano permetterselo insieme ai contadini con i quali nostro padre barattava minuscoli oggetti d'oro di proprietà di nostra madre per patate, cicerchie, carrube etc.
Qui a Roma come tipo di pane era di largo consumo la ciriola o "cirioletta" ognuna del peso di circa 100 grammi che era poi la razione giornaliera pro capite di each family member. Baker
Our confidence in walking distance from home was the Sor Giggetto that, as a witness, is among other things in my statement of birth - 1930.
Every morning she went to him, he performed the ration cards from which to withdraw the stamps on and came home with 600 grams due to our family consisting of parents and four children.
With the progress of the war stocks were running out of flour and, consequently, the bread became almost a kind of luxury.
Sometimes it happened that the Sor Giggetto could not know how to fix a little 'extra bread and then advised us to return in the afternoon to wait in line and hope to get some more cirioletta that of rationing.
Those times failed to remedy a couple of course we were happy but always stood between us brothers of the discussions because our mother had to share the ciriolette
exactly equally and not always successful. We
brothers fought for even a small piece of bread more or less. The first two years my brother and I were the largest contributors to the debate then joined the other two, grew up in the meantime.
My father got tired of those discussoni rather animated and then one day brought home a pharmacist or a goldsmith scale that could weigh only slight things. Just crumbs. I still remember today
the scene while sitting around the kitchen table, watched with alert eyes that our mother was trying to weigh and divide the two accurately ciriolette. A memory
That is in me and stuck in mind that I have never forgotten.
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