Food is not wounded here, it rises again  happy on to colored palettes of the good tast,  when the appetite formulates to the beautiful display window that recurrent question: “Is there anything good today?”

There are: velvety soups, fried grass, caponata, stuffed omelettes, olive cunsate, spicy cheeses, full-hot cold cuts, grilled, boiled, baked vegetables.

Our cookery speaks in the aromatic dialect about those small foods allied of the bread  and the wine. They make the loquacious joy of Mediterranean eating.

The formulas of the taste are: snacks of average morning, joyful pasta of the noon, salted afternoon snacks and sweet sandwiches, fillets of fish in a sea of essences that browse from the large port of the lunch to the small port of the supper.

Well, a kitchen that recognizes the own identity and builds the great plates of the abundance with the small dominos of the moderate measure, quite right to the rapid bolts of the appetite.