by Rosie Genova
“Outside, Lockhart.” Tim swept past me, shoving the back door open, and Cal was instantly on his heels.
“Fine by me, brother,” he said.
“What the hell, guys?” I said, scurrying after them. “Please don’t do this. You’re both crazy. This is ridiculous!” I shouted. But neither guy was listening.
They stood eyeing each other in silence, and for a moment I thought they’d both give it up. Without warning, Cal threw the first punch, a quick cross that caught Tim’s jaw. I winced as his head jerked back, his eyes wide with surprise as he hit the ground.
Cal stood over him, his hands on his hips. “Sorry about that, brother. But you had it comin.’”
He took my hand and kissed it. “You’re a wonderful woman, Victoria. And I am your friend for life. Remember that, will you?”
“I’ll do that. And you take care, okay?”
I watched him drive away, Tim still sitting at my feet moaning and rubbing his jaw. I dropped to the ground next to him and turned his face to mine. The left side of his face was an angry red, with a bruise already forming along the bone.
“You know, this is the second time in twenty-four hours I’ve seen a guy felled with one punch. The novelty’s starting to wear off,” I said. “He’s right, by the way,” I added.
“About what?” he asked, still out of breath. “That you’re a catch?”
“That goes without saying.” I grinned at him and he smiled back painfully. “No, that you had it coming. You didn’t catch us in some big clinch. We were saying good-bye, you idiot.” I sighed. “And you acted like an ass.”
He leaned back on his elbows and nodded. “I’ve been acting like an ass for eight years.” He turned to face me, and I was startled to see tears in his eyes. “Back then, I walked away from you, Vic. I set you aside like you didn’t matter. Like your love was something I could afford to lose. And it was the biggest mistake of my life.” He dropped his head and let out a groan.
“Is that your broken heart talking or your broken jaw?” I asked. “We should really get some ice on that.”
He sat up again and grabbed both my hands. “In a minute. Just let me get this out, okay? The surfer dude who thought he was God’s gift—that’s the guy who took you for granted. But I finally grew up. And if you give me the chance, I’ll never take you for granted again.” He pulled me toward him and briefly pressed both my hands against his lips. “Victoria Rienzi, you are the best woman I’ve ever known. I’ve never stopped loving you and I don’t deserve you. But will you let me try?”
Our eyes held for a moment, and it was as though our whole history was unfolding in front of us, with all its joys and all its sorrows. “We’ve loved each other for half our lives,” he said softly. “How many people can say that?”
“Not many,” I whispered. “And it’s something that’s too precious to lose a second time. Or to take for granted.” I looked at his bruised face and tear-filled eyes, and my heart turned over. But I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “So there are conditions.”
“Anything, Vic. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”
“You’re going to court me. A good old-fashioned courtship with dates and flowers. You and I are going to get to know each other again. Who we are now, not who we were eight years ago. And do not expect me to jump right back into—”
“A relationship?” he asked with a grin.
I patted the good side of his face. “You understand me, then.”
“I do,” he said, leaning closer. “But is a kiss allowed?”
I pressed my palm against his lips. “Not just yet—there’s one more condition.”
“Name it.”
I took a breath. “You have to teach me to make fresh pasta.”
He laughed and then winced, but pulled me to him anyway. And there, sitting on the dusty asphalt of the Casa Lido parking lot, Tim Trouvare and I shared our first kiss in more than eight years. Unlike most things in life, it was as good as I remembered. Heck, it was better. Too bad it was interrupted by the sharp sound of my grandmother’s voice.
“You’re making a spectacle of yourselves. Get up off that ground right now.”
I scrambled to my feet and Tim followed, though more slowly, holding the side of his aching face. As he stood next to me, we linked hands, at which my grandmother gave a snort of disgust. She held out a towel filled with ice and handed it to Tim.
“Put ice on that right now, Timoteo, and then hear me well.” She gestured to the two of us. “I don’t like this between the two of you, but there’s nothing I can do about it. There never was.” She stepped close, squinted up at him through her glasses, and jabbed her finger in his chest. “But you hurt my granddaughter, and you will have me to reckon with. Understand? Now go clean yourself up. Get that jaw seen to. And then come back here and start the sauces; I don’t care how much your face hurts. Tu capisci?”
Tim held the ice to his jaw and nodded slowly, clearly too shocked for speech.
“Good,” Nonna said. “Now go.” After he was dismissed, she turned slowly to me. “And as for you, missy—”
I steeled myself for a lecture, but soon realized that wonders were unceasing today. My grandmother, Giulietta Rienzi, was actually smiling at me. Then she reached out and patted my shoulder.
“You’re a good girl, Victoria,” she said. “And much too smart to have your head turned by two men fighting over you. You’ve worked hard here in the restaurant and you’ve stood up for the family.” She nodded to where Tim was making his slow way to his car. “What you see in him, I’ll never know. But at least the boy can cook.”
I looked at her in shock. She was still smiling, and I smiled back. “Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me, Nonna. I—”
She squared her shoulders, her face back to its usual expression of disapproval. “Now get back inside. Those tomatoes need chopping. And make sure you fold those napkins the right way for dinner. And find out if Lori has the coffee set up. You girls always wait till the last minute . . .”
She was still talking as I followed her back with a grin on my face and a spring in my step. I took a deep breath of the late-summer air and turned my face toward the ocean. I couldn’t see it from here, but I knew it was there, bringing familiar comfort with every ebb and flow of its tides. And while I didn’t know what the future held for Tim and me, there was one thing I was sure of: Nonna and I had weathered the storm. And though I had taken the long way around, I was finally and truly home.
Author’s Note
Except for Enoch “Nucky” Johnson and Paul “Skinny” D’Amato, who were real people, the gangsters appearing in this book exist solely in my imagination. But I was certainly inspired by Atlantic City’s colorful history, including that of Ducktown, an Italian immigrant neighborhood in the early half of the twentieth century, so named because a number of residents raised waterfowl there. I thought it would be fun to have Grandpa Rienzi delivering produce to the eateries in that section of the city, and it didn’t seem like a stretch to imply that restaurants there may well have been under mob influence. Ducktown is still home to a number of Italian restaurants, many of them family-owned with long histories—just like the fictional Casa Lido.
My real life sister-in-law, Teresa Genova, serves up this lovely antipasto at family gatherings. It was handed down to her from her mom, Anne Guerriero, affectionately known as “Mrs. G.”
Teresa’s Antipasto
One can of Italian tuna packed in olive oil (or water if preferred)
Genoa salami and mild provolone rolled together (with cheese inside the salami), approximately a dozen rolls
6 to 8 stuffed mushrooms, homemade or jar type, quartered
6 to 8 stuffed roasted red peppers, homemade or jar type, quartered
6 to 8 celery stalks stuffed with cream cheese
6 to 8 hard-boiled
eggs, quartered
8 to 10 pieces of sharp provolone, sliced in strips approximately a dozen whole cooked string beans or asparagus spears
cooked shrimp, if desired
sliced cucumbers
black and green olives for garnish
1. If you are making this for a crowd, you will need to use a large, circular tray.
2. Line the tray with romaine or Boston lettuce pieces. Starting in the center, place the Italian tuna in the middle of the tray in a small bowl.
3. From there, place the ingredients in a pattern, alternating each item so that everyone has access to the variety of foods on the tray. For example, line the edge of the tray with the salami rolls; next, place the stuffed pepper pieces in between the salami rolls. Place the stuffed mushrooms in random areas on the tray. Do this with each food choice until all items are placed on the tray.
4. Take a picture for future reference.
This vinaigrette seems to be a favorite in my family, as I always end up in charge of dressing the salad! This recipe makes more than enough for a large, family-sized salad. Leftover dressing can be refrigerated, but remove the garlic clove if you prefer a milder flavor.
Rosie’s Vinaigrette
one garlic clove
good-quality extra-virgin olive oil
white balsamic vinegar, Italian imported
Dijon honey mustard
salt and pepper to taste
glass measuring cup, 8 oz. size (with demarcations)
About an hour before dressing the salad:
1. Peel the garlic clove and bruise it slightly with the side of a knife. Place it in the measuring cup.
2. Pour the extra-virgin olive oil over the garlic until it reaches the ¹⁄³ cup mark.
3. Add enough water to bring the mixture to the ½ cup mark.
4. Pour in the white balsamic vinegar until the mixture reaches the ¾ cup mark.
5. Add several twists of coarsely ground black pepper and salt to taste.
6. Add a generous teaspoon of mustard, and using a small whisk or a fork, beat it quickly to create an emulsion. Let the garlic steep in the dressing until it’s ready to serve. Remove the garlic and emulsify again before dressing the salad.
Like Victoria, I adore a good Bolognese sauce. This recipe is adapted from my favorite cookbook, Italia Cucina (McRae Books, 2001).When Tim makes this for Vic, he serves it over his homemade tagliatelle, which is flat, ribbon-shaped pasta. However, this hearty sauce works well with many kinds of pasta, including rigatoni and penne.
Tim’s Bolognese Sauce
4 Tbsp. of butter
2 oz. of pancetta (Italian-style bacon) diced
1 small Spanish or Vidalia onion, finely chopped
1 to 2 stalks of celery, finely chopped
1 large or 2 small carrots, finely chopped
4 oz. of ground beef
4 oz. of ground pork
4 oz. of ground veal (Italian sausage may be substituted here)
1⁄8 tsp. ground cloves
Dash of cinnamon
½ tsp. freshly ground black pepper
28 oz. can of imported tomatoes, chopped
1 cup whole milk
salt to taste
1. Melt the butter in a heavy-bottomed sauce pan and add the pancetta, onion, celery, and carrot. Sauté mixture over medium heat until the onion is light gold in color, about five minutes.
2. Add the beef, pork, and veal or sausage and cook until all the meat is lightly browned. Add the clove, cinnamon, and black pepper. Stir in the tomatoes and continue to cook them over medium heat for 15 minutes.
3. Add the milk and season with salt. Turn the heat down to low and let it simmer for at least 2½ hours, stirring occasionally.
This recipe comes from my friend Tom Ficarra, who discovered it while traveling in Sicily. Tom is an enthusiastic foodie and Italophile (and has more than a little in common with the character of Father Tom).
Father Tom’s Cold Tomato Sauce
10–12 fresh plum tomatoes
5 oz. package of fresh arugula
1 to 2 cloves of garlic, depending on taste
about ¾ cup of olive oil
1. Chop tomatoes, arugula, and garlic well; place these in a large bowl and mix thoroughly.
2. Pour in the olive oil.
3. Let the mixture marinate for at least three hours, taking care to stir it several times.
4. Serve sauce over hot linguine with a generous amount of grated Romano cheese.
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