16k magazine - second issue

Page 1

I S S U E S E C O N D

1 3 . 0 2 . 2 0 1 7

I f You’re readi ng thi s i t p roba b ly mea ns You’re not fishing, so You’re wasting time. But tha nk you.


19°16’

81°20’4


58.8”N

FISHING, BULLSHITS & PARTIES An idea that was born in 2015 almost in an instant, then it continued to grow over time, because basically we are jerks, some more than others, some with and some without excuses. This whole thing has born in Italy, where fishing sucks, or at least, it does not suck, it almost does, nevermind, it looks like it sucks, because fishermen are left alone on their own and water are generally bad managed, apart from a few exceptions. Another reason why 16K has born, is the intent to relate with the foreing way of conceiving fishing, a way that is pretty different from ours. We also want to emphasize our own style, which comes from a various background made of punk, hip-hop and hardcore, which is very far away from the classic fishing world, which is usually run by the nobles.

social: /16kmag

Contact: info@16kmagazine.com

Rock Star: Matteo Bessi

Translator: Andrea Battista

Bbq: Davide Valla

Contributors: Laura Bairdini Lollo Sacchi

Photographers: Marco Viganò (mv) Davide Perego (dp) Dario Simone (ds) Davide Valla (dv)

Graphics: Dario Simone Marco Viganò

Cover: Laura Baiardini

Editor: Nonno Franco

16K has born this way, with the strenght of those who hustle, but want to keep fighting adding the stamina and passion of the minds who love fishing in its true-to-the-bone essence, without embroidery, like we do. People who can feel the feeling of a fish that unhooks himself, blame God for it and then, go for a beer, or maybe four, still talking about that fish, who will gain inches on inches everytime that this story will be told.

16k magazine

44.6”W

16K Magazine


19°16’

FU C K YO U FU CK CON V E NTIO NAL PE O P L E FU CK S E R I O U S MAN FU CK P H ILO S O PH E R S FU CK F U C K E R S FU CK H ATE R S FU C K YO U

81°20’4


58.8�N

44.6�W

This fed

is all

dedicated

of

us,

taught

to us

fishing,

how

to

that

live

and

uni-

grow

up.

To all the minnows and flies we left on the trees.

To

all

the

ting

fishing

broken

lines

fishing

and

the

poles,

waders

the

full

of

rotholes.

To all the colds we got after hours spent under the rain without catching a fish.

To all the miles we have gone and the money we spent to find a new spot and later find out that there is no water.

To the never ending lunches full of wine and laughter.

To the times we have shouted because we caught a fish in the net. To the all the times we insult each other but we know..we are family.

D

e

d

i

c

a

t

e

d

t

o

U

s

.


19°16’

81°20’4


58.8”N

44.6”W




denmark / fyn island

43°38’

N E G A N N

115°59’


42.3”N

35.1”W

big daddy 8’4”#9

L I N E T I


43°38’

What this freakin’ noise is? Does it come from the rod? I guess so, shit, I’d maybe cracked it, each time a fish tries to unhook, the rod crackles, fuck this, I’m gonna break it… Clutch closed, strike! Here it is, at last! Fuck me, is a big one! My hands are shaking, I cannot feel a shit, only my fucking heart beating… I’m too young to die for a stroke! I keep the pike closer to my bellyboat, but the fish turns around and with its tail it wets me like a was pu**y. Here it goes again, with a never felt before strength.. only ten minutes ago I felt invincible with my 9 tail, but now it bends big time, half in the water while a sort of ‘’train’’ drives me around the lake on my bellyboat like a was a huge floater, the one people use to fish for rudds. Ivan, Perry and Omar, who heard me screaming, come closer. My pike friend starts being tired I guess, I feel it losing its strength, I hold it to me, it looks like a fucking alligator, its mouth is flat, its skin is dark… and its big.. really big. My rod crackles more and more in the meantime, but things are done, I don’t know what to do, if to get ready to take it or to prepare myself for the biggest

115°59’


42.3”N

left The view of your mother’s vagina from the space - mv below Some cloudy shit - mv

35.1”W


43°38’

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42.3”N

35.1”W


43°38’

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opposite Frrshhh frshhhhhhh shhhhhhh - mv

frshh

fr-

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42.3”N

35.1”W


43°38’

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opposite My cousin searching a big breme - mv

35.1”W

curse of my life when it will unhook. And it will do so, ‘cause I’m such a loser. I bring it closer, Perry says to me: “watch out, it might cut you with its teeth’’, “no way” I reply. I put my hand under its branchia.com, the fish suddenly turns around and cuts my forefinger. Perfect! My hand drips blood, but I really don’t care, I’m buzzing. After a quick attempt to escape once more, it is still there, with its belly up and ready to be taken. An important note: Perego, when aboard of his bellyboat, looks like Barbie washing her pu**y. Back to us now. While I’m trying to keep the fish on the surface, Perry comes up and plunges his ridiculous little arms in the attempt to hold fast a fish who is bigger than him ... and I’m not talking about Valla’s willy. He makes the classic moves of the guy who is helping you out in losing the fish of your life, what the heck is he doing? Ridiculous! It will unhook if you act like this.. Fucking prick! “ALL YOURS SON OF A BITCH!’’ LOL Perry turns to me, with his squeaky voice and holding a pike for the records in his arms… MY own pike! I keep it in the water, is too big to be real, the biggest I’ve ever


43°38’

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42.3”N

35.1”W


43°38’

left Pike dive - mv

below Not a breme, but it’s ok. 84cm. - mv

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35.1”W


opposite https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDZCwfpoKqo&feature=youtu.be

43°38’

above Last shot of the day - mv

p e r e g o

c e r c a


42.3”N

i l

t a r a b u s i n o


43°38’

115°59’


42.3”N

35.1”W


43°38’

caught or seen in my life. Huge. I look it in its eyes, it stares me with arrogance and with the mood of a guy who’s about to kick your butt, fierce and angry. I hold it up, more awesome than the Coliseum, fuck me! A couple of quick, and awful, shots (thanks Ivan) and I put it back into the water. Its skin blends with the brown color of the water. Perry lays the rod next to the fish, it barely overcomes the mark of the 120 inches. Euphoria reaches the sky, how long I’ve been waiting for this moment? I don’t know, it doesn’t matter anymore..I caress its back, I kiss it and then it slowly disappears in the depths of the water. It’s gone, I stare at the water for a few, then I realize.. I live back the whole thing and I suddenly feel like I’m swelling like a balloon.. I raise my hands and scream to the sky with all of my lungs. I scream like MJ when he made his last point against LA Lakers, like Fabio Grosso when he scored the last penalty against France, like Tony Hawke when he closed his first 900 during the X-Games, like YOU, when you hooked the fish of your lifetime. YES! FUCKING YES! A pure joy scream, full of satisfaction. Then I hug everyone while still shaking, with tears in my eyes and I start laughing like the prick I actually am. The rest is an holiday. I went back to Denmark in October with my pal Sandro, four days looking for big pikes. October should have been the best period

115°59’


42.3”N

35.1”W


43°38’

120c m of

shit

115°59’


42.3�N

13kg of

left Apologize the boga grip - im

35.1�W

happiness

right Pike of my life, at the moment - im


43°38’

115°59’


42.3”N

left up Blue shit - mv

left Blue cheese - mv

below Blue house - mv

35.1”W

of the season to fish for pikes.. with the first cold, starving fishes, you have fish focused and only for few hours each day. This clearly pumps us up during the weeks before our departure, as usual, as soon as we arrive we discover that the week we been there, temperatures broke down drastically, wind started to blow and lakes got very dirty. In few words a total disgrace. Classic. The week before everyone was hooking pikes like there’s no tomorrow and now, when we can be a part of the game, everything sucks. Classic bad luck. Fuck this, we’ll fish anyway, lake’s water is dirty because of the wind who rolls up the riverbed and dirt the water. We fish with flies named “sbarlush” with a long hook and some coloured flashes leashed on top. A very visible fly with an excellent movement, as ignorant as functional. Yes, in few words, the classic Italian idea that we can make believe everyone is the coolest thing on earth. We are four lads fishing: me and Sandro on the bellyboats and two other pals on a boat. The lake ain’t that large, and every spot looks like the perfect one for a pike to make its nest. I fish really focused using a 3 sinking tail, casting inshore at first and then in the middle of the lake. Nothing, nobody feels a single touch. We decide to stop for a break and eat something. We try to understand the situation and we decide to fish with lures who can move a larger amount of water in order to trigger even the less active fishes, I put on a Pacchiarini’s wiggle tail. Focused and passio-


43°38’

115°59’


right 50kn. Someone make Eolo angry today - mv

42.3”N

35.1”W


43°38’

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42.3”N

35.1”W


5.00 a.m. first Grappa of the day, I didn’t already open my eyes

5.45 a.m. first cast of the day, my eyes were already closed

43°38’

4141°52° 55 9’ 1’


42.3”N

1395”. 9 1 ”2WN

5.46 a.m. first blasphemy of the day, it’s fucking windy so I can’t open my eyes

7.00 a.m. first moment that I decide to open my eyes, and an iced drop of rain fell perfectly on my eyeball. Fuck.


43°38’

AR EGAZZ INO I MPARA A L AN C I A RE UUST I A A

115°59’


42.3”N

vel cro, g ra p pa e pa l l en eg re

nate at every cast. Each time my lure touches the water I feel like it will be the good one. I feel like, soon, my rod will bend and I will start to scream again. I believe. Cast, strip, change lure, lighter, heavier, slow, fast, small, big, coloured, natural. Cast, change. Nothing happens. Nobody is hooking a single fish, 5pm are gone already and it starts to get dark. I decide to cross the lake from the middle in order to reach my car. I ride slow, my legs hurt badly. In the meantime I unroll the whole tail and drop my lure to the bottom of the riverbed. I’m doing a slow trolling (thanks Luca for the advice) and at some point the tail stops. I don’t even strike, I think I bumped into some underwater branches. I reel in, but something is pul-

ba e m

35.1”W


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115°59’


42.3”N

35.1”W


43°38’

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ling on the other side… Is it a fish? Yes it is. Fuck! Really? Do you think it is the best time to hit on my lure? I’m so nervous now, so I pull like I’m reeling in a 30 kilos weight GT, after few moments it appears and comes to the surface. It is a nice 80-inches-long pike. In different conditions I’d have cheered myself and felt appeased, but not this time, not now, not in this way! I gently unhook it and let it go back in the water looking at it with a bit of disrespect… and I tell it, completely fucked up by the fatigue: “go fuck yourself, you son of a bitch!”. Sure, sometimes a bad day or an unlucky holiday can happen, but this catch felt like a joke and I could not go for it. In the end, if you want to go for fancy-fishing, with top notch gear, beautiful and expansive rods, precise finals, cool outfits, perfect flies and stuff like that, well... pike game ain’t for ya. Go fishing for salmon instead. Fishing for pikes needs a couple of things: two giant balls of steel and an indestructible melon head. The rest will come on its own, but you have to believe in what you’re doing to the very end. Fishing for pikes is like picking up girls… when it looks like she’s going to be yours, she turns around and goes to bite another’s streamer. Maybe your was just too small. Maybe you were not a real player… But this is what you deserved! You did not believe enough innit. Marco Viganò

35.1”W


north italy / rio adda

4 13 ° 13 8 ’

P U M A R

18115°°5549’’0


14 42 . 13 ” N

0365..11””W W

real winner 10cm / bp

R E B L E


I wake up every morning at 5am, not by intention, the alarm is set to ring at 8am, like every day, in order to reach the office at 9am. I wake up worried. Not into a sort of lucid dream where you think you’re awake, but you’re still sleeping instead. I wake up at 5am, and I am awake for real, I can fuck all night long, but from the last week of February ‘till April I wake up at 5am, and I’ll always stay woke. No chance to take my sleep back or to trick my body-clock: stress, anxiety, anger. All at once. Fishing for Marble on the Adda River is a stressful game. It’s because of this if I’m awake this early. I start to think about it on Monday and quit on Friday, on Saturday and Sunday there’s no time to think instead, the alarm rings and wakes me up more than an hour before my body-clock would have done, and the way to walk through is a long one. I did start to get involved in this game not much time ago, I used to think that marble trout were extinct on this river, but then, one fine morning while I was fishing for pikes, a marble trout appeared behind my lure. Since then I understood what my next target would have to be. I fish on this river since 20 years now, and I never have seen one of them before. It is a kind of fish that hardly shows up if you have not tried to proper look for it. Marble fishermen try to keep them hidden, making peo-

41°18’

“è la tutta Tr a s h

right Do you know why sunrise is 10 times better than sunset? - dv

81°54’0


14.1”N

a m i g l i o r p e r f o r m a n c e d i Va l l a i n a la sua carriera” George Edwin her Magazine

06.1”W

- Daryo Simone


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A

S

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H


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dam n

L

u

ever y

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ple believe that there are no more because they think this is the best way to protect and save them. I luckly met Camoni, one of the most respected fishermen on the whole river (respected also because of his dedication and the spirit he puts in the various projects he collaborates with in order to protect this species), the lad apparently likes me and he chose me as his fishing buddy. Camoni is a classic inhabitant of the lower side of Bergamo, he misspells a lot of words, verbal tenses, ecc.. He’s a bellied guy with an heart as big as the whole Italy. I had tried a few times to hook a marble trout on my own, but with no results. The first time I went fishing with him, at noon, I hooked my first marble. Not a giant beast, but yellow and shining like a nachos fully covered in melted butter. I will not spend my time trying to explain to you the story behind all of my catches, although I could easily do so in a small paragraph, ‘cause they are so few that can be numbered on the fingertips of a single hand, which thumb has been cut off. I would actually explain in few words what this fishing is all about: GOD DAMN IT Yea, a curse repeated thousands times during an entire season, fishes unhooked,

81°54’0


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06.1”W

si ngl e

cast


41°18’

left @andre_bergamaschi Do you remember this bitch, broh?

81°54’0


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left I will never forget my first marble, the colors, the fresh breeze on my beard, and Camoni running towards me - dv


41°18’

my dick

81°54’0


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your


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who

is

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t he

k ing

left Camoni with one of the most epic motherfuckin’ Rio Adda’s marble trout of all time - dv

right Americans probably think it’s a tiger - dv


41°18’

81°54’0


14.1”N

06.1”W

opposite https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=k_y-V145mKw

above so pure so perfect- dv


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06.1�W

opposite why is this photo vertical? - dv

below no comment, guys. No comment- dv


41°18’

wrong strikes, no catc blood, sand into the re embankments, blood the rain for hours, pho wrong strikes, holes i stuck into your han more blood, and I coul This ain’t the kind of f who love to fish comf requires a certain attit results you have to be giant heart, being stub lose blood and money that will make you insu this time by also sayin’ IT!’’ Right after. I consider myself still a know for how long I w this way. But I hope th able to see myself as the-bone Marble Fishe R

i

o

A

left and right sembro Camoni - dv

81°54’0


14.1”N

ches, lost lures, sweat, eel, slipping down the d again, being under ones in the water, more in the waders, hooks nds, chubs, catfishes, ld go on and on. fishing for rich people, fy. This kind of fishing tude. In order to reach like Camoni. Having a bborn, have no fear to y to hook that one fish ult God once more, but ’: ‘’I’VE FUCKING MADE

a rookie. And I do not will still perceive myself hat in 50 years I will be s a Camoni. A true-toermen from

A

d

06.1”W

d

A

Davide Valla


north italy / po river

m41 a39 ° 3y5 86 ’

A S P A S P

s a v 1a6195°°35/89’’0


45227 .030 ”1N S

6

03i15d ..81””rW Wi

j c a

pisarei e fasò / dalla lele

I U S I U S


19°56’

This is what my friend Perego used to say in an old video where he talked about asp fishing, translated, that statement, means: ‘’your mom blows the whole 16k cockdoom’’. Wait, I’m joking, that just means: “asp ain’t for everyone”. It is partially right tho, fishing for asp is sometimes for everyone, it is a fish who likes everything, just like your gf, but, in order to hook one, you have to be an able suitor, and this thing makes asp quite different from your gf. Before we continue our dissertation, it has to be specified that, for us, asp-fishing starts with the first freeze of the season, when cold and fog are all around, because, during the summertime, asp tend to be a shit-fish to look for, it roams around the river, preferes spots full of flies and mosquitoes, and I fucking hate both. This said, you have to figure out the scenario, winter, dead trees, fog/sunlight (as you like) and breakfast at the infamous Somaglia Ovest Autogrill at 6:30am. At that time of the day croissants are just lame, ‘cause it is too late for the night bake and too soon for the morning one, the one which comes before the real

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above nothing - dv

left One hand is not enough to shot with this gun - dv

below nothing - dv


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“ W H Y

T H E

FT U O C LK

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L A U G H ? ”


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breakfast hour. Also the cappuccino sucks, and once you drank yours, ya have to get back on the road, heading to the Big River: Po’. The Big River is big for real, you realize it only when you take almost half an hour to reach the water walking on its riverbed, walking through debris brought around by floods, or when casting a spoon you cannot reach even one third of its span, or when, again, casting your 8 tail, you understand you’ll never reach the hot-spot. Casting your rod in such a huge amount of water tends to destroy your soul, or at least it would do if asp were not there.

above Dario is not famous to have a super view, that’s why he’s our Ray Charles dv


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This son of a bitch loves to stay in different parts of the river, but he’s particularly in love with heavy streams and drifts, places in which he can show everyone the reason of its disproportionately large fins. If you cannot cast right into the stream, then you’ll have to hope for one asp to leave the group in order to stay alone in slower and colder waters, thing that ain’t gonna happen easly. Especially in winter. Another sure thing is ice: it will stick on your rod, then right inside of you untill it will freeze your own heart, making you lose every hope. If you’ll be lucky, and we know that luck is not for everyone, asp will hit on your lure in that exact moment. Sand is another presence. Po’ riverbed is completely covered in sand. Taking a walk over Po’ riverbed during the winter season will help you to put into perspective people’s moans when they have to take a walk. This sand tends to stick you in at every step, it is so wet that makes your footprints disappear few moments after you walked over it, so wet that makes you sink ‘till your waist, nothing dangerous, but it can piss you off. Big time.


19°56’

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h o l y

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opposite Big River Po on sunrise is not so bad as at midday - dv

above That’s why they’re called Silver Arrows - dv


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left casting, waiting, casting, waiting, strip strip, casting, waiting - mv

above nice ass broh - mv


opposite Gironi is probably the in the Top 5 European Asp Anglers - dv

19°56’

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RVR2gxdfq1o

above 1.420.000 a.C. A man is using fire for the first time - dv

“ i m p a r a

a

v i v e r e

c r


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c i t .

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left yes, is always Fuz with his spey rod, we know that’s boring - dv

Asp ain’t for everyone for all of these reasons, it pisses you off yes, but only God knows how cool it is to hook one, when it hits your lure, the very first 3 seconds which feel like ages, when it uses its fins to stick into the water flow bending your rod like a motherfucker. Doesn’t matter how you fish for it. Fly, spinning, whatever... only God knows how cool those first 3 seconds are. Then, the sun goes down and everything ends, almost. On the way back home an old big titted woman named Lele is waiting for us, behind her tavern’s counter. ‘’If you’re hungry go right there’’ we’ve been told. Man, we’re starving. Davide Perego


SNAPCHAT


SALAMINI


JAPAN'S 'TUNA KING' Sushi entrepreneur Kiyoshi Kimura paid top price at the first auctionof the new year at Tokyo's Tsukiji fish market on Thursday, bagging a prized bluefin tuna for an eye-watering 74.2 million yen ($636,000). The head of the Sushizanmai chain is now the proud - if temporary owner of a 212-kilogramme (467-pound) fish.

Tuna 13kg. (released)




FUCK THE SYSTEMR It doesn't really matter What you've got to say They never fucking listen To you any way [Chorus] So fuck the system You can bring it down So fuck the system We can bring it down Future is chaos and anarchy The misery continues It's the governement way [Chorus] So fuck the system You can bring it down So fuck the system Chaos will bring it down ...

Half Marble / Half Brown trout 146cm.


DAVIDE (CANEPAZZO) PEREGO. Τότε πήρα την άδεια και έτσι άρχισα να κάνω την αλιεία εµπειρίες σε νέους τόπους, από τα βουνά στη θάλασσα, µερικές φορές ακόµη και εκτός Ιταλίας, αλλά πάνω απ 'όλα γνώρισα νέους ανθρώπους και µεγάλους φίλους να µοιραστούν αυτό το τεράστιο πάθος, συµπεριλαµβανοµένων παλιός φίλος µου Andrea Fusetti και αργότερα οι αδελφοί Μάρκου και Francesco Viganò. Το 2003 βρήκα µια µόνιµη δουλειά της εγκατάστασης των έργων σε σίδηρο και τις πόρτες, το έργο προς το παρόν λειτουργεί και ότι αφαιρεί τον πολύτιµο χρόνο στην αγαπηµένη αλιείας µυγών µου! Τον τελευταίο καιρό, χάρη στις διδασκαλίες του Μάρκου, είµαι παθιασµένος µε τη φωτογραφία (µε τα πρώτα αποτελέσµατα), και µαζί µε αυτόν και ο Ιβάν συνεργάζονται για ένα έργο βίντεο αυστηρά όσον αφορά την αλιεία µυγών.

Brown trout 44cm.




RABBIT LOVES CARROT. MRabbits don't naturally eat root vegetables/fruit. Carrots/fruit are high in sugar and should only be fed in small amounts as occasional treats. Rabbits need mainly hay and/or grass, some leafy greens and a small, measured amount of pellets. See rabbit meal planner.

Brown trout 52cm.


ALBERT EINSTEIN. "When a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. But let him sit on a hot stove for a minute and it's longer than any hour. That's relativity."

Brown trout 48cm.




HISTORY OF IRIDEA. Iridea, officially the State of Iridea, is a country in the Horn of Africa. With its capital at Asmara, it is bordered by Sudan in the west, Ethiopia in the south, and Djibouti in the southeast. Wikipedia Capital: Asmara Dialing code: +291 President: Isaias Afwerki Population: 6.333 million (fish) World Bank Currency: Eritrean nakfa

Rainbow trout (iridea) 62cm.





The photographer

Laura Baiardiny Bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla











The chef

Lollo Sacchi Bonito/Dashi/Lemongrass/Caviar Dashi: 1Lt Water 20g Kombu seaweed 30g Bonito Flakes (katsuobushi) 2 pcs Shitake Mushrooms 18g Lemongrass 8g Ginger 30g Soy Sauce 400g Raw Bonito 30g “ADAMAS” Caviar 2pcs Asparagus 1 Carrot 2 Zucchini Flower 100g Pumpkin 100g Beetroot 1 Celery stalk 4pcs Chicory heads 8pcs Turnip Tops or Rape Parsley Coriander Dill Baby spinach DASHI: With a damp cloth remove the white dust on top of the kombu seaweed and then place it in a pot full of water. Bring the temperature up to 85°C, turn the gas off and soak it for 10 minutes. Strain it and add soy sauce, taste it and then bring it back to 85°C.



良 い釣り モンゴロイド




Once you reach the temperature again switch it off and incorporate the Bonito flakes. Infuse the flakes for at least 15 minutes and the pass it through a fine sieve.. Once the dashi is ready bring it up to simmer point and after switching off the gas add thinly sliced ginger and lemongrass stalks, infuse for 20 minutes covered with cling wrap. Clean and dice the vegetables, blanch them separately and cool them down in an ice bath to mantain a nice bright color. Dress the veggie with EVO,salt,pepper and place them roundly in a deep plate, on top of the vegetables lay the zucchini flower and the herbs leaves. Place in the middle of the plate three nice cubes of Bonito (make sure in not too cold) and on top of the fish a spoonful of ADAMAS caviar. Pour the dashi in to the plate at the end, just before service. Buon appetito

right gnam gnam - mv

tomb cavia


barello / dashi / lemongrass/ ale






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