It was cold morning. I woke up. I fed the kids. They went off to school and I had to clean the house – thank God. I cleaned and tried not to think about what's to come. I knew they would deliver it soon, but to be honest, I was a bit afraid to see it.

It was my 9th book, but this one scared the hell out of me – because it was all mine. Not just the recipes and texts, but everything: my pictures, my texts, my ideas… I really liked it when the risk of something going wrong was shared with someone, usually the photographer, but in this case it was just me.

So I washed and cleaned and tried not to think about it until the moment he arrived – with 350 books to sign and my first copies fresh from the press, still smelling divinely good. Smelling fresh.

I saw the cover and it was all good. I sat down feeling peaceful, opened the book and went through it, page by page. And I loved it. I felt like a child who had been given the biggest wad of cotton candy, bigger than me. I love my new book “52 Omelets – 1 omelette for each weekend of the year”.

The book actually was inspired by my trip to Tuscany last year. We lived there for a month with friends, and one morning we asked our husbands to pick up eggs from the farmer on the way up to the house. They stopped by and asked, but he wouldn’t give them any. So we, the ladies, took a bowl and went down the hill to see what was wrong with that man. He did not speak English and we did not speak Italian, but we knew the secret words – eggs and Rocco (that is THE guy of the area). He smiled and gave us the eggs, arguing about not taking money (we still gave it), and we went up the hill, sweating like pigs and thinking about showering.

When we came back, I opened the fridge, took out some zucchini flowers, salsiccia, and fresh ricotta and made and omelet. And we did the same for few more times. I returned home and started to make omelets – every weekend till I realized that I wanted to write a book. I asked for support and here it is – just three months later: 52 omelets, 160 pages, and some stories about eggs. All mine. I still have lots to learn, as we all do, but I already love the road I have started on.