I am not going to go to the side of the history of the making of the pie, because it ended up being a story more or less similar to the ones I have been doing lately: that stagnates me from a creative point of view gastronomically speaking, despite the fact that the expectations of the process I was looking for were different and it is irrelevant to raise them in this case, because it is neither the scope nor the circumstances warrant it. What I am interested in rescuing - because there must always be something to rescue and apprehend what is sought - is the surprise of the image that the camera returns to me and the boundaries that are established between my intention and the results of both light and from the shadows.

And I observe this phenomenon not only in the language of images, but also in that of the kitchen, at the time of preparation, at the time of baking, slow cooking ... difficult to transfer its explanation ...

I do not want to believe that I am embracing one technique or another, because I am one of those who consider that one ends up perfecting himself just at the moment his life ends; I always say that I feel privileged - yes - to have the ability to enjoy the pleasure of creating and to be aware of it.

I go back to my zucchini and mushroom cake and I get lost in its textures and flavors ...