He moved with the grace of a conductor. First, a thick swipe of —bright orange and smoky. Then, thin ribbons of prosciutto that had been cured in the mountain air until they were translucent. He added a handful of wild arugula for bitterness and a drizzle of truffle oil that caught the dim light of the shop.
"This," Marek said, sliding the plate across the marble counter, "is the recept (recipe) for a day that went wrong." recept delikatesov
"You look like you've forgotten the sun," Marek said, slicing the bread. He moved with the grace of a conductor