On days, like a merry-go-round – Butter pan-fried gnocchi with ketchup

Some days are ok. Others are grand. I remember that day when we felt like we owned the world. Kissing at every street corner and not even noticing the happy dance snowflakes made around us.

Yes, that was an august day. And a august-er night, in the winter.

And some days are not so grand. But that’s part of the game. A game we don’t choose to play. And yet we’re here, one step forward, at times two, and three steps backward.

Pulled up and down.
Not unlike a roller coaster.
Not unlike surfing on the waves I thought we’d be in by now.

Yes, today was not the best day. But I put on my favourite red lips. And that dress that floats when I spin. And I spinned, and cried a little too, in the tube. And I made a gif. And had gnocchi, pan-fried with butter until crisp with gold on the out-kind-of-side and yet, soft as a pillow on the in-side. With a side of ketchup, for only excuse that it felt right.

And slowly, like a merry-go-round that never ends, the cacophony turned into music. And really, there was no better place to be than safely nested against that wooden horse. In fact, there is a better place to be, but of this, I will tell you later.

Some stories only belong to grand days.


  1. The game we play it’s a game with a beginning and an ending not decided by ourselves; it’s a game where the most important things just happen, without being planned; it’s a game where the planned things don’t happen, or happen too late, or too soon. It’s a tough game, but it’s an honour to join it. Grand days make it worth it.

  2. perfetti per una pensierosa notte insonne, questi “gnocchi”…! spero tu capisca l’italiano, la prossima volta che farò una capatina nel tuo blog mi obbligherò a scrivere in inglese… per ora good luck al tuo umore ed un saluto dall’Italia!

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