FLORENCE, Italy – Fifteen minutes – that’s all there was.
An outsider would surely see this as a ridiculous proposition: being a minute late meant a missed train to Italy’s culinary capital Bologna. But on the inside of those minutes to spare was a chance to satisfy a long-standing craving: a nice, spicy curry.
Despite the long list of stunning tastes and meals that we’ve been lucky to try, nothing ever hits the spot for me like a good meal of rice and curry – typical meals from my home country of Sri Lanka.
Fine and delicate food was good, but real food, my parents taught me, should be an assault on your tastes buds: the spicier the better.
And that’s why I was running.
An amusing crossing of cultures, Bengalis, Bangladeshi and Sri Lankans have managed to make a sizeable community in Italy’s major cities. Just three years before, I heard my native tongue Sinhalese spoken on the streets of Florence, Italy. A mental note stuck in my head – next time you’re there – ask around. (more…)