You want to know about cucina povera? Ahhhhh, I was bred on that. My mother would go out in the countryside and pick the cicoria and puntarelle, the same ones that are growing wild out in your field (similar to dandelion greens) . . . just the tender tips, and then she would chop them and make a frittata. Ohhh. That was in the spring, when we had more eggs than she could sell. That was the time when the first salame was ready to eat, still pink and heady with the aroma of fennel seed and sweet meat. Pasqua (Easter) was the best. We really ate until we were full. On those days, we could imagine what it meant to eat like kings.” —Virio Neri