La Piada
In the 1800s, the Italian poet Giovanni Pascoli wrote a poem about Piadina...........
..."Il mio povero mucchio arde e già brilla:pian piano appoggio sopra due mattoniil nero testo di porosa argilla.Maria, nel fiore infondi l'acqua e poniil sale; dono di te, Dio; ma pensa!l'uomo mi vende ciò che tu ci doni.Tu n'empi i mari, e l'uomo lo dispensanella bilancia tremula: le landetu ne condisci, e manca sulla mensa.Ma tu, Maria, con le tue mani blandedomi la pasta e poi l'allarghi e spiani;ed ecco è liscia come un foglio, e grandecome la luna; e sulle aperte manitu me l'arrechi, e me l'adagi mollesul testo caldo, e quindi t'allontani.Io, la giro, e le attizzo con le molleil fuoco sotto, fin che stride invasadal calor mite, e si rigonfia in bolle:e l'odore del pane empie la casa."-- Giovanni Pascoli (1855-1912). "La piada"
..."My poor heap (of twigs, etc.) burns and already is bright: slowly, slowly I place the black griddle of porous clay on two stones. Maria, you mix the water in the flour and put in the salt; gift from you, God, but think! Man sells me what you gave us. You fill the seas (with bounty), and man dispenses it in trembling balances; you make the land a feast, and yet the tables are empty. But you, Maria, with your calm hands you master the dough, and then stretch and smooth it; and here it is, smooth as a leaf and as largeas the moon; and on extended hands you bring it to me, and place it carefully on the hot griddle, and then, step away. I turn it, and with the poker tend the fire underneath, so that it squeaks from the heat, and inflates with bubbles: and the odour of bread fills the house".
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