"The scene is as old as life. My grandmother who doesn't understand the non-food expression of love, and my grandfather in the living room making fun of women and their desire to continuing to spend the whole day in the kitchen, I on his right, laughing, and thinking I will never be wenches. In my memory today, blood flows from our mouths when we eat their food, as if it were pieces of glass." Through this workshop we would like to invite the authors to our linguistic kitchen to prepare, eat and digest texts on and around the food.