The white & pink checkered tablecloth, a cup of hot, intense americano, and a little basket full of croissant or pain au chocolat.
I don’t ask for anything else, while I think that I’d like nothing more, on Saturday morning while I go downstairs on my way to the kitchen. I open the shutters and press the button of my beautiful white kettle, with its sinuous profile, and I sit on the stool of the large oak table waiting for the gurgle of the boiling water.
To me this image represents absolute peace, a place where to each simple, individual action I can allocate its natural time, without the turmoil and rushed gestures typical of the weekdays.
However the reality is that on the table there is almost everything, with the exception of the freshly baked pain au chocolat.