Night in a Portuguese kitchen

One night, just before Christmas eve, I had to make countless trips between my house and the second kitchen my family constructed some years ago. There was always something missing; an ingredient, a knife, spices, wood and so on and so on. Fortunately the rain did not show up and one could proceed with the short trips without getting wet, unlike most of the years. On one of the trips I decided to take a picture from the porch of my parents house. The thing I like more about this picture is the contrast between the light on the exterior and those inside. The lights on the outside are more soft and warm while the lights inside are bright and aggressive.
This is well in order with the Portuguese nights before Christmas; on the outside all seems calm and peaceful, you can hardly ear a sound on the street. Meanwhile, inside Portuguese kitchens, the pots and pans don't cool down while mothers conduct elaborate oven-symphonies with sugar violins and cinnamon choirs.