Lessons Learned, Healing Hearts

Cooking 101 (Chapter 30)

One would think that doing nothing would make the hours drag by, but that was not the case for Piero and Marlow. Between catching up on laundry and sneaking in extra breaks, the day turned out to be everything Marlow had wanted; slow, easy, and full of smiles and laughter. Folding a T-shirt, she looked up when Piero appeared in her doorway.

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

"He is? Why?"

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

"Let's do it, Marlow said, grinning as she tossed aside the unfolded clothes. "I would love to see him again, too."

***

Knocking once and opening the door, Piero hollered, "Igna, siamo arrivati! Dove ti sei nascosto?"

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

Guided to where Ignazio was, it quickly became apparent that something was obviously in the works as flour was strewn everywhere, including a small strike of white dust on Ignazio's temple, and a dark apron covered in handprints.

"Ooh, what are you making?" Marlow asked, inhaling the heavenly scents.

"Pizza from scratch."

"Yum!"

Wiping his hands on his apron, Ignazio leaned in to give Marlow a kiss on the cheek, being careful not to touch her back with his messy hands.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Sto moto bene grazie. E tu?"

"Bene, bene." Flashing a dimpled grin, he tossed aprons at both of them. "I have a wonderful surprise for the two of you. Welcome to Italian Cooking 101."

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

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

"Listen, you cannot come to Italy and not take a cooking class from an Italian cook," Ignazio said, puffing out his chest.

Marlow easily fell back into a brother/sister tease. "And that is you?"

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

Sharing a private giggle, Marlow finally understood just how seriously Ignazio took his cooking skills.

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

Ignazio's enthusiasm was infectious, and his two pupils watched and listened intently as his hands kneaded the soft, floury lump on the countertop.

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

"It helps to make the crust a mix of tender and crispy."

"Do you know how to spin dough?"

Ignazio stood taller, a proud grin spreading across his face. "You are looking at a master pizzaiolo. My mother owned a pizzeria, and now my sister continues the tradition. If music hadn't called to me, I probably would be spinning dough for a living."

"You could do both," Marlow said. "You could call your business, The Singing Pizzaiolo." Wiping her hands on her apron, Marlow grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. As the boys huddled around her, she quickly sketched a pizza slice sporting a big Ignazio quaff hairstyle, belting into a microphone. "This could be your logo."

Bursting into laughter, Ignazio attached the drawing to his fridge with a magnet. "I'm going to keep it there, for future reference."

"Can you show me how to spin pizza dough?" she asked.