stigghiolaro I was the best of Palermo and then in the world. My secret? I had no secrets except to buy my own meat, choosing one for the slats one, discarding the ones that seemed too greasy or dirty. Roll up the gut with force, so that then they cook evenly. Salavo lightly washed in a bath of vinegar and water. Then cooked on the spot: they are not in favor of the barbarism of stigghiola prearrostita and then just heated on the grill, well, it saves time, but the flavor will suffer a lot. I had a hut made of metal blackened by the parties to make money. People knew me knew me well and also dogs in the neighborhood, I had to kick to throw them out. The smell of white stigghiola clouded the street, attracting hungry crowds of Palermo, ready, including a stick and a glass of wine, to complain about something or someone bad mouth: two of the most popular sport in the capital. Now things have changed. Finding the raw material is very difficult and then I happened to be attacked by people crazed by hunger. The worst was a Scared: with her white coat and a nail him. I have scarventato ground. I tried to defend myself with my knife, but the guy with the hook was agile and I slipped the weapon with a shot of the stump (one of the other hand) in the lower abdomen. I am fat, the heart began to parlpitarmi. I can not breathe. The sky turned black as charcoal. When I awoke I was robbed of everything, even the knife had been taken and the orange plastic dishes. So I stopped with stigghiole. Now I have a lot of free time. But I'm missing something, I feel without many prospects, like a coiled stigghiola evil.
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