More than a recipe, this is a memory. When I was a little girl, my dad took us to the beach every single Sunday in summer (from December 21st to March 20th – he’s extremely punctual). My mum was, as always, in charge of food. She packed a big container full of tuna sandwiches and two huge soft drink bottles (a Coke and a Inca Kola because tastes in the family were divided). Once in the beach, between swimming and sun-bathing, they bought us snacks: some sort of sweet tuile-like cylinders, delicious natural fruit ice pops (I usually got mango, my sisters and mum loved the coconut ones) and/or regular…