Casatella

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We are now on our way back to town, sitting in our wet swimsuits wrapped with towels, and I can feel like the drops of water are running down my thighs to finally soak into the upholstery of the sofa of the car. Mauro drives wearing the dressing-gown and with his hood on. It’s completely dark and the road is rough but it is no surprise to me anymore.
–         You need to try casatella! – After we reach some suburbs or something it looks like, Mauro stops his car at the front of a bar, which, what a surprise, is still open and full of people!
–         But you realize it’s 2 in the night, do you?
Mauro steps out of the car still hooded in his blue dressing-gown and slippers laughing out at my ridiculous comment. He doesn’t say anything but he goes directly into the bar without even looking at us. I’m trying to pull my shorts on my wet swimsuit, how horrible… But I can see that nobody is paying attention to his “evening outfit”, nobody is staring.
After we finally reach the bar, Angelo gives us half round cookies covered with white sugar. They are pieces of shortbread filled with sweet ricotta cheese and raisins. It’s still warm, not too sweet, not like other Sicilian sweets that are cloying to a point of being inedible. This is really good. Something that you will always come back for here. Casatella.
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