Page 63 of A Place in the Sun
‘Giovanni is a wise man,’ I say.
‘He is.’
‘Well, I’m going to make today the best I can to try to repay him for how he’s helped both of us.’
I move towards one of the tables in the kitchen and Luca moves to its other end. Together, we start to create three distinct working areas.
‘Team work is how kitchens function,’ I tell Luca. It’s as if I’ve slipped into a pair of comfortable shoes, not the old pair: new ones that are twice as nice.
He giggles. ‘Try telling thenonnas that!’
Suddenly I’m nervous again about today. Even though I’ve had the deposit from Harris Headhunters’ bank, a list of arrival times, I’ve passed on accommodation details and the minibus is booked, I’m still on edge about pulling this off.
I pick up a piece of chalk next to the painted wall that acts like a blackboard for recipe ideas. I’d have liked a printout of the recipes for everyone, but there’s no way thenonnas were going to tell me that much … or maybe they can’t. After all, Nonna Lucia reckons her lasagne is all about the dish she makes it in. And Nonna Teresa whispered to me that it’s the way she cuts the garlic with a razor blade. As for Nonna Rosa, it’s down to the order in which she adds the ingredients.
So, I write up the plan for today, and leave blanks where thenonnas will tell me what we’re cooking.
Welcome to La Tavola Cookery School.
Friday – Venerdi
Primo
Secondo
Dolce
I just hope I can trust thenonnas to work together. I gaze around the dining room, with the hanging vines of cherry tomatoes, the red and green chillies Giuseppe grew on his smallholding and delivered for the weekend. And the bunting Caterina made – she’s been sewing all week with the clothes she’s been repurposing from Casa Luna. And the big arched doorway is wide open. I go outside, through the courtyard, out of the gate, across the cobbled road and swing my legs over the low wall in front of the blanket of fields that runs away from the village. Giuseppe’s goats are happily grazing. I give them a pat and bend to pick some wild rosemary and oregano. Back in the cool of La Tavola, Luca has found some empty jars and we put the herbs and greenery I’ve gathered from the field into them, then place them on the three different work stations. The room smells amazing.
Having set everything up, I look around, just as I used to do before service in the restaurant, enjoying the peace before the performance, before the curtain goes up. The company has paid a lot of money for thisweekend. I know how important team-building is to big businesses, even more so now that so many people work from home. It’s important they get together, let their hair down, work as a team. I have everything crossed that it goes as planned, that thenonnas behave, that they don’t fall out and refuse to cook with each other. I look at the time on my phone. What if thenonnas don’t come? What if they come and refuse to cook? What if this was all a terrible idea?
Suddenly I hear voices.
‘Come on, Teresa. You have the speed of an old mule!’
My heart lurches and I hold my breath.
And there, in the arched doorway, stand the silhouettes of the threenonnas. They’re here! I start to breathe again. In the middle, taller than the other two, with turned-out feet, in a smart navy-blue dress, is Nonna Rosa. Next to her, shorter, her hair pinned up neatly, a pasta rolling pin under her arm, is Nonna Lucia, and then, leaning gently on Rosa, is Nonna Teresa, bent over and catching her breath.
‘You’re here!’ I throw my arms open. Luca and Aimee appear beside me, smiling.
‘Of course!’
‘We gave our word.’
‘Your word is worse than nothing.’
‘Madam, my word is my badge of honour.’
‘Honour, what honour?’
Suddenly, I’m worrying again, but then they laugh.
‘Just friendly banter,’ says Nonna Rosa.
They’re here, and now I can relax. It’s all going to be fine. Just as I’ve planned.
‘Come on, come in,’ I say, smiling. ‘Would you like coffee?’
