In this, the fava bean holds an important role. Sweet and insatiable, an example of how people have a common, simple identity, yet still it is an irreplaceable one.
Our wines, that flowed and went down throats to compensate for joys and pains. The salt of a Frascati Superiore and a fine sea-salt covering that water-green delight (which I challenge any painter to match on his palette!) that was the Roman Fava bean.
Then the sweet breeze, May-day with its Red Flag, and us, on our way home. Me hidden under mum’s skirt, that little man who was his father’s great expectation. "Go on! Forza! where are you all! Get a move on!" Now we have another year to wait, but Ferragosto will soon arrive, with the water melon cooling in the well, our summer treat.