Cinzano Sipped, Gelato Licked and Spaghetti Slurped
Two Little Girls Chapter 15
The miles of porticoes that shaded the trio as they walked around the city meant they didn’t burn to a crisp. Three alabaster-skinned English girls with blonde hair. The Italian sun would have roasted them like freshly plucked chickens on a spit.
The sun relented in the early evening, a light breeze cooled them. Piazza Maggiore and the statue of the naked Neptune and cherubs fountain beckoned. Then Judith took her younger sister and her friend to a café for gelato.
“How do I choose a flavour? Chocolate cherry. Oh, it’s scrumptious!” said Sarah.
Judith did all the ordering. Sarah listened to the melody of the words. She watched as Judith’s hands moved like a conductor’s matching the notes and lyrics.
The three returned to the blissful coolness of Sylvana’s home. Lionel poured Cinzano Bianco. On the rocks. Its aromatic botanicals; heady on her sense of smell.
Sarah reflected on her dad’s custom of Advocaat snowballs at Christmas. But she’d never experienced a grown-up alcoholic drink. In the early days of their romance, Mummy and Daddy enjoyed a Dubonnet with lemonade, ice and lemon.
The chunky, heavy-based glass had an inch of eau de nil coloured liquid. The sixteen-year-old took a sip. The ice cubes knocked against her lips as the Cinzano slid onto her tongue. She held it there and savoured it. It tasted of cinnamon and a syrupy lemon flavour and some other herbs, which balanced the syrup.
The heat of it felt like the Benylin cough medicine she stole from the medicine cabinet. Like one chug of Benylin needed a second, Sarah could have drunk several, but it was an apéritif. And it worked. She was ravenous for dinner.
Sylvana served pasta Bolognese. What else? When in Bologna, eat Bolognese. Tomato, onion and garlic sauce with generous quantities of minced beef and veal. Sarah could taste the fresh oregano and basil. Grinds of Parmesan and cracked black pepper perfected the meal. She wished she could eat this dish until she popped.
On one occasion, the three went out to eat in a restaurant. Sarah noticed roast beef on the menu, so pointed it out to the waiter as the dish she wanted to order. When it arrived, Sarah shrank back in horror. It was oozing blood! Judith saw her horror and asked the waiter to take it away and ask the chef to cook it for her.
After a week, Billie and Sarah left the comforts of Bologna. Sylvana recommended a seaside city called Ravenna. A week in the sun of Bologna turned Sarah’s hair bleached blond. Thanks to the Sun-In bleaching product she’d sprayed her hair with on arriving in Italy.
As Billie and I had walked along the streets of Bologna, we had attracted the attention of the local boys.
“Ciao belle, tedesche?” The olive-skinned and dark-haired boys called out after the young women.
Sarah tutted and replied with irritation, “non tedesco, Inglese!” Proud of England, we pointed this out.
The gorgeous young men would next shout “hai una sigaretta?”
To which we would shake our blonde heads and smile “non, non, non,” and continue walking away from them.
It was no different in the Ravenna campsite. Somehow, we pitched our two-person tent next to a tent with four Italian teenagers. All boys of a similar age to us.
Billie and I watched as they prepared a blue plastic baby bath full of pasta. They tipped in tinned tomatoes, fried onions, garlic, tuna, anchovies, capers, and oregano. The four worked together. Their teamwork delivered enough spaghetti alla puttanesca to feed a football team.
They glanced over at the blond girls now and then, but they pretended to focus on the food or their nails or the sand.
When their meal was ready, they sent one boy over with a couple of plates. He held them out to Billie and Sarah. Both girls went pink. But they took a plate each and went over to join their chef hosts.
© 2018 Karen Madej. All rights reserved.
Sarah Two Little Girls Chapter 1
Bournemouth Skies and Bologna’s Fiat Drivers Two Little Girls Chapter 14
First Love’s Blush and a Smoking Kiss Two Little Girls Chapter 16