Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

Cooking 101 (Chapter 37)

One would think that doing nothing would make the hours drag by, but that was not the case for Marlow. Using the downtime to tackle some laundry and take several well-deserved relaxation breaks, the day was everything Marlow wanted. Folding her laundry, she looked up when Piero came into her room.

"It seems that Igna is bored out of his mind," he said.

"He is? Why?"

"I don't know. But, since we wanted to leave the house anyway, how about we go visit him? I know he would love to see you again."

Tossing the rest of her unfolded clothes to the side, Marlow declared, ""Let's do it. I would love to see him again, too."

***

Knocking once and opening the door, Piero hollered, "Igna, we're here. Where are you?"

"I'm in the kitchen," Ignazio hollered back.

Guided into the kitchen, it was impossible to miss the evidence of culinary activity as flour was strewn everywhere, including a smudge of white across Ignazio's temple.

"Ooh, what are you making?" Marlow asked, inhaling the rich aroma of garlic and spices.

"Pizza from scratch," Ignazio replied.

"Yum!"

Wiping his hands on his apron, Ignazio greeted Marlow and Piero with a kiss on each cheek.

"How are you?" he asked Marlow.

"Sto molto bene grazie, e tu?" she answered.

"Bene, bene." Chuckling, Ignazio handed his guests each an apron. "Welcome to Italian Cooking 101."

"Did you know about this?" Marlow asked excitedly, tying the apron around her waist.

Shaking his head, Piero appeared just as surprised as she did.

"Listen, you cannot come to Italy and not take a cooking class from an Italian cook."

"And that is going to be you?" she teased, falling back into a brother/sister vibe.

"It is. I am going to teach you how to make an authentic Italian pizza pie from scratch."

Glancing at each other, Piero and Marlow shared a private giggle. Ignazio really did take his cooking skills seriously.

"OK, you two. Let's get started."

Entirely in his glory, Ignazio's pupils listened intently to his instructions.

"Igna, why do they spin the dough?" Marlow asked, patting her ball of dough with a little more flour.

"It helps to stretch it out and also helps to make the crust tender in some spots and crispy in others."

"Do you know how to spin dough?" she continued to question.

Standing taller, Ignazio flashed a dimpled grin.

"You are looking at a master pizzaiolo. My mother owned a pizzeria, and now my sister owns it. If I had not gone into music, I probably would have become a pizzaiolo."

"You could have been both. You could be the Singing Pizzaiolo." Wiping her hands on her apron, Marlow eagerly asked for a piece of paper and a pencil. As the boys huddled around her, Marlow quickly sketched a pizza slice with a big Ignazio quaff hairstyle, singing into a microphone. "This could be your logo," she said proudly.

Ignazio burst into laughter and attached the small logo with a magnet to his fridge. Returning to his friends, he said, "I'm going to keep it there, just in case I need it."