Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

A War Between Sicilian Cooks (Chapter 18)

 Pulling everything Piero asked for out, Marlow checked the bread box.

"Ughh! It's been so hectic with school and shuttling you three around that I totally forgot about grocery shopping. There's no bread, but we could use English muffins instead."

"We?" Taking the bag of English muffins from her, Piero clarified that he was the only one who would be cooking. "Do you have a glass about so big?" Piero asked, making a circle with his fingers.

"A glass? Why?"

"I will show you."

Getting him a glass the size he wanted, Marlow leaned her elbows on the counter and watched as Piero cracked open one egg in the sizzling pan. Then, immediately placing the glass over the top to keep the egg white from spreading too far, Marlow snickered.

"You know there are moulds for cooking eggs into perfect rounds, right?"

"Yes, but don't tell Ignazio."

"Why?"

"This is how his ancestors did it. It is tradition and should not be messed with."

Leaving the egg to set up, he twisted the glass and repeated the process with the other two eggs, creating three perfectly round eggs in the skillet.

"Hmm," Marlow said, nodding. "Well, look at that."

Kicked out of the kitchen, Marlow took her glass of orange juice and retreated to the deck; a cool breeze, carrying the delightful scent of pine, engulfed her in morning tranquility. Interrupted by the banging of drawers and cupboards, curiosity got the best of her. Hidden by the curtain half shading the screen door, she observed Piero bustling around and hastily retreated to her seat when he glanced in her direction.

"Breakfast is served."

"Wow! This looks fancy. Thank you."

Placed around the plate's rim, an assortment of juicy strawberries, ripe bananas and fresh orange slices framed an open-faced egg sandwich. Topped with tomato and a generous portion of melting cheese, the top half of a lightly toasted muffin leaned against the perfectly round egg.

"Wait," Piero said, pushing down her fork. "Ignazio always says he is the better cook. I want to send him a shot of our breakfast." Stepping in behind Marlow, Piero leaned his face in close. Holding up her plate, Marlow's breath caught in her throat as Piero took the picture.

Sitting back down, Piero picked up his glass.

"Saluti."

"Do you and Ignazio compare your cooking a lot?" she asked, placing the top half of her English muffin onto her sandwich and pushing down. Staring as a small amount of golden goodness oozed onto the plate, she licked her lips in anticipation of that first bite.

"No. Ignazio is a far better cook. He likes to try new things and experiment with food. Me, I stick to what I know." Holding his breath, Piero waited for Marlow to take her first bite.

"Oh, this is good!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand as she continued to chew. "My compliments to the chef."

"I'm glad you like it."

Carrying on a relaxed conversation, had they been sitting at a small café enjoying the start of the morning, seeing Marlow touch Piero's hand or forearm as he sweetly rubbed her back; strangers would have thought that they were already a couple in love.

"Look," Piero said, passing Marlow his phone. "Ignazio doesn't believe that I made this."

Setting her fork down and wiping her fingertips on her napkin, Marlow took Piero's phone from him.