The Case of Italian Indigestion

by B R Snow

  “Don’t tell me you got lost coming in?” Rosa said.

  “Yeah, a bit,” Chef Claire said. “We somehow ended up heading north on the road running around the west side of the lake.”

  “It can be a tricky road,” Marco said, nodding. “I still have trouble with it from time to time.”

  “See?” Josie said in mock protest.

  “It certainly got my attention,” Chef Claire said. “And we almost got run off the road by a very cranky guy in a Ferrari.”

  “A Ferrari?” Marco said, raising an eyebrow at his wife.

  “Yeah, he was in a big hurry,” Chef Claire said.

  “What color was the car?” Rosa said.

  “Bright yellow,” Chef Claire said. “Why do you ask?”

  “I’m not sure,” Rosa said. “But I think you might have been dealing with Emerson Kingsley.”

  “Why does his name sound familiar?” Josie said.

  “He’s an industrialist from California,” Marco said. “Big money, even bigger ego. And he was late for his tee time.”

  “Industrialist?” Josie said. “What does he do?”

  “He manufactures various types of machinery and heavy equipment,” Rosa said. “And if you believe the rumors, he dabbles on the dark side. You know, selling stuff to people who shouldn’t have it.”

  “Lovely,” Josie said with a frown.

  “He’s staying here at the villa?” Chef Claire said.

  “Yes,” Rosa said. “He and his wife are enrolled in the cooking school. It was her idea, but he agreed to come as long as he could play golf. There’s a course on the western side of the lake he wanted to play today.”

  “Bronwyn,” Rosa said, shaking her head. “Wait till you meet her.”

  “Don’t start, dear,” Marco said, mildly chastising his wife. “They’re paying good money to be here.”

  “I know,” Rosa said. “But I really don’t like her.”

  “What’s she like?” Chef Claire said.

  “Beautiful, but entitled,” Rosa said. “And she has an annoying habit of constantly taking selfies. As soon as she gets a look at you two, she’s going to hate you. She won’t like the competition.”

  “Aren’t you sweet,” Chef Claire said, laughing.

  “Come on,” Marco said. “Let’s get you settled in. I’ll have your bags brought up.”

  They strolled toward the front door.

  “You have two restaurants now?” Rosa said.

  “We do,” Chef Claire said. “And both are doing well.”

  “No surprise there,” Marco said, then glanced at Josie. “Chef Claire was the best student we ever had at the school. She was destined for greatness.”

  “Stop,” Chef Claire said, taking another look around the grounds. “Speaking of doing great, it looks like you’ve got something very special here.”

  “Yes,” Rosa said, squeezing her husband’s arm. “We’ve been blessed.”

  Marco held the front door open then followed them inside. Chef Claire and Josie looked around the massive foyer and nodded.

  “Wow,” Josie whispered.

  “It’s amazing,” Chef Claire said.

  “Thanks,” Marco said. “We like it. I’ll give you a tour later. Follow me. I’ll show you to your rooms.”

  They followed him up a long stairway leading to the second floor. Marco came to a stop at the top of the landing and pointed at a door off to his left.

  “That will be your room, Chef Claire,” Marco said. “Josie, you’ll be right next door. The rooms adjoin, and if you like, you can open the inside door and turn it into a suite.”

  He motioned for them to follow him. He opened the door to Chef Claire’s room and waved them in. Again, Josie and Chef Claire glanced around, stunned.

  “It’s incredible, Marco,” Chef Claire said, then walked across the room and stepped out onto a large balcony. “And look at the view of the lake and mountains.”

  “We thought you’d like it,” Rosa said.

  “It’s amazing,” Chef Claire said, then glanced at Josie who was focused on a different view. “What is it?”

  “Take a look,” Josie said, nodding at a large pond near the villa.

  “You gotta be kidding me,” Chef Claire said, glancing at Marco. “Are they all yours?”

  “The dogs?” he said, grinning. “They certainly are.”

  “Gorgeous,” Josie said, continuing to stare out at them.

  “I take it you’re a dog person?” Rosa said.

  “Yeah, you might say that.”

  “Josie’s a vet,” Chef Claire said. “And she and our friend Suzy run a Doggy Inn back at home.”

  “Interesting,” Rosa said. “How many dogs do you have?”

  “When we left a few days ago, we had seventy-six.”

  “We thought having four was a lot,” Marco said, frowning. “My, that’s a lot of dogs.”

  “Yeah, you’d think so, but not really. Would you mind if I went down and said hello to them?”

  “Of course not,” Rosa said.

  “I have two Goldens,” Chef Claire said. “But after looking at your guys, I might need to pick up a couple more.”

  “They’re very happy here,” Rosa said. “And, of course, we spoil them rotten.”

  “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Chef Claire said, laughing. “So, what time does class start in the morning?”

  “Nine,” Marco said. “We’re making pasta tomorrow. “Breakfast starts around seven-thirty. And dinner tonight is at eight. We’ll be eating outside on the veranda. Weather permitting. Don’t forget to bring your appetite.”

  “No problem there,” Josie deadpanned. “I packed an extra one.”

  “What?” Rosa said.

  “Nothing,” Josie said. “Don’t worry, I’ll do my part.”

  “Okay, we’ll get your bags up here, and you can get settled in,” Rosa said. “Since you’ll be playing with the dogs down at the pond, you might want to hold off on your shower.”

  “Got it,” Chef Claire said.

  “And there’s a bowl of tennis balls sitting on the reception desk downstairs,” Marco said. “You don’t want to show up empty-handed.”

  “Thanks so much. It’s so good to see you guys.”

  They both gave her another hug then waved to Josie and headed out.

  “What a nice couple,” Josie said, glancing outside at the four Goldens.

  “They’re the best,” Chef Claire said. “I was surprised when I heard they were selling the culinary school and buying a villa in Italy.”

  “I think they made the right call. Okay, let’s go get our dog fix.”

  Chapter 3

  Josie did her best to duck but got caught in the crossfire. The onslaught came from three different directions, and the attack of the wet Goldens left her drenched and laughing. She knelt down and hugged all three tight. The other dog, a gorgeous male named Leo, sat in front of Chef Claire waiting for her to throw the tennis ball he had dropped at her feet. She fired the ball back into the large pond, and all four dogs tore off in hot pursuit then jumped into the water and swam toward the bobbing ball.

  “The water has got to be cold,” Chef Claire said, staring out at the dogs.

  “It is,” Josie said, wiping her sleeve across her forehead. “But they don’t seem to mind.”

  “You think we could handle a couple more house dogs?” Chef Claire said, firing another tennis ball into the water.

  “Uh, no,” Josie said, laughing. “You about ready to head in and grab a shower?”

  “Yeah, we should probably get going.”

  They started walking back to the villa and were soon caught by the dogs. Judging by the looks on their faces, they were wondering where the heck their playmates were going.

  “We’ll play again tomorrow,” Chef Claire said, kneeling down to pet all four.

  It was her turn to get drenched, and she patiently waited until the dogs finished shaking. She and Josie continued the walk. The d
ogs raced toward the back of the villa as soon as they spotted Rosa holding a gate open. She closed it behind them and spent the next few minutes doing her best to say hello without getting drenched. Eventually, she gave up and laughed and shrugged at Josie and Chef Claire.

  They climbed the short set of steps leading to a veranda stretching the length of the front side of the villa and spotted a young man setting the table. He paused to give them and their wet look the once-over.

  “It hasn’t been raining, has it?” he said in English with a strong Italian accent.

  “Chance of wet dog, one hundred percent,” Josie said, extending her hand. “I’m Josie.”

  “Oh, you’ve been on pond duty. You’ve made four new friends for life. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Enrico,” he said, returning the handshake before turning to Chef Claire.

  “I’m Chef Claire.”

  “Oh, the famous Chef Claire,” he said, shaking hands with her. “Marco and Rosa are always talking about you. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “Infamous is more like it,” Chef Claire said. “How do you like working here?”

  “It’s wonderful. And Marco and Rosa are very good to me. I do a lot of different things around the place. Officially, they call me the caretaker.”

  “Well, mission accomplished,” Josie said. “This place is amazing.”

  “Thanks,” he said, counting the plates on the table. “Well, I need to finish setting up for dinner. It was nice meeting you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

  They smiled and waved and headed inside. As they walked up the stairs to the second floor, Josie again wiped a sleeve across her face.

  “He seems happy.”

  “He does,” Chef Claire said, nodding. “And why wouldn’t he be?”

  “Can’t argue with that,” she said, coming to a stop outside her door. “Is an hour enough time?”

  “Plenty,” Chef Claire said, reaching into her pocket for her key. “I’ll knock on the inside door when I’m ready.”

  “Perfect,” Josie said, inserting her room key.

  They both paused when the door of the room next to Josie’s opened. A man’s head appeared, and he glanced to his left then flinched when he looked in the other direction and spotted them staring at him.

  “Oh, hi,” he said, his face reddening. “You caught me by surprise. Is it raining?”

  “Only dogs,” Josie deadpanned. “I think the cats must have the day off.”

  “Okay,” he said, frowning. “I’m Georgio. I take it you’re both here for the cooking school.”

  “We are,” Chef Claire said.

  “Good, good,” he said, nodding. “I’m looking forward to it.” He continued to nod his head as he searched for something to say. “Yes, it should be good,” he said, still red-faced. “Well, I should go get ready for dinner.”

  He waved, glanced around as if he was unsure where to go, then headed down the stairs. They watched him go then frowned at each other.

  “That was awkward,” Chef Claire said.

  “Indeed,” Josie said. “Are you thinking the same thing I am?”

  “If he just came out of his room, why would he go somewhere else to get ready for dinner?”

  “That’s the one. I have a funny feeling it isn’t his room.”

  “And the way he looked up and down the hall before coming out was curious,” Chef Claire said.

  “To say the least. He didn’t want to be seen leaving,” Josie said, opening her door.

  “Color me intrigued,” Chef Claire said, heading into her room. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  Josie raised her glass of Prosecco and clinked glasses with Chef Claire.

  “Well, here we are,” Josie said. “Okay, let me see if I’ve got this right. A glass of something before dinner is called the aperitivo, right?”

  “Very good,” Chef Claire said, taking a small sip. “After this, we’ll be having the antipasto course. I imagine it will be something like the ones we serve at C’s.”

  “Works for me,” Josie said, glancing around the room. “Should we go introduce ourselves?”

  “It looks like they’re all in mid-conversation, so let’s hold off. I’m sure Marco and Rosa will introduce everyone as soon as we sit down for dinner,” Chef Claire said.

  “Excuse me for interrupting,” an attractive woman somewhere in her forties said as she approached. “But aren’t you, Chef Claire?”

  “I am,” Chef Claire said, frowning. “You look familiar, but I’m sorry. I don’t remember your name.”

  “I’m Betty. Betty Smithsonian,” the woman said, extending her hand. “Like the museum.”

  “I know we’ve met before,” Chef Claire said. “This is Josie.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen you before, but only in passing,” Betty said, beaming at Josie. “I live in Ottawa and have eaten at your restaurant in Clay Bay several times.”

  “Of course,” Chef Claire said, nodding. “I remember. It’s nice to see you, Betty.”

  “You drive down from Ottawa just to eat at the restaurant?” Josie said.

  “At least once a month, weather permitting. It’s so worth making the drive,” Betty said, then looked at Chef Claire. “You’re here for the cooking school?”

  “We are,” Chef Claire said.

  “You’re a guest lecturer?”

  “No, just one of the students,” Chef Claire said.

  “That’s odd,” Betty said, frowning. “Do you really expect to learn anything new?”

  “Of course. We can always learn, right? But I will also be doing some one on one work with Marco and Rosa outside of class. I’m trying to do a deep dive into some of the regional techniques.”

  “I see,” Betty said. “My goal is to be a better cook at home. How about you Josie?”

  “I’m afraid the only deep dive I’ll be doing is into several bowls of pasta,” she said, laughing. “But I would like to improve my skills in the kitchen. Chef Claire casts a long shadow.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a great cook,” Chef Claire said, then shook her head. “Pity I can’t say the same thing about your ability to read a map.”

  “Funny,” Josie said. “Are you here by yourself, Betty?”

  “I am. None of my friends could make it, and I didn’t want to wait until next year.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I work for the Canadian government,” she said, then shrugged it off. “It’s pretty boring. Well, I’m so glad to see you. It should be a great week.”

  Marco and Rosa approached.

  “I think we’re ready to sit down for dinner,” he said. “It’s a bit chilly, but I think we’ll be fine eating outside.”

  “Lead the way,” Chef Claire said.

  They followed him to the table, found their name cards and sat down. Chef Claire ended up sitting between Marco and Rosa. Josie was on Rosa’s immediate right and Betty was on the other side of the table a few chairs down. Two servers approached the table each carrying a large tray. They set them down on opposite ends of the table and topped off everyone’s glasses with Prosecco.

  “Please help yourself,” Marco said to the table. “It looks like we’re missing one of our guests, but I’m sure she’ll be along soon. So, let’s get started. I’ll handle introductions, but please feel free to jump in whenever you like.”

  He waited a few minutes until people had served themselves from the antipasto trays then continued.

  “Rosa and I would like to welcome everyone. We’ll be spending a lot of time together over the next week, so introductions are definitely in order. This is Chef Claire,” Marco said. “She was a former student of ours back in the day when we ran the culinary school. She now has two restaurants, one in New York on the Canadian border, the other is in the Cayman Islands. And Rosa and I are delighted she’s here.”

  A polite round of applause followed.

  “Next to me is Chef Claire’s friend Josie. She’s a vet and her goal for the
week is to improve her skills as a home cook.”

  “And eat,” Josie said, eyeing her plate.

  “A vet? Thank you for your service,” said a heavily-jeweled, young woman from the other end of the table. “Which branch of the service were you in?”

  “Canine corp,” Josie said. “Actually, I’m a veterinarian.”

  “Oh, of course,” the woman said, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Josie said. “It was a logical assumption.”

  “That would be a first.”

  The bejeweled woman glared at the man sitting next to her then forced a smile and slid a piece of cheese into her mouth.

  “Cheap shot,” Josie whispered.

  “It certainly was,” Rosa said, nodding as she snuck a glance down the table.

  “Okay,” Marco said, sensing tension. “I’d like to introduce Emerson and Bronwyn Kingsley. That’s a lovely necklace you’re wearing, Bronwyn.”

  “Thank you, Marco,” she said, slowly chewing her food.

  “Emerson is a successful industrialist based out of California. Bronwyn tells us her major goal this week is to learn how to make pasta from scratch.”

  “It is,” Bronwyn said, nodding. “I’d love to master it.”

  “Mixing eggs and flour?” Emerson Kingsley said with a laugh. “Gee, I don’t know if I like your chances, dear. It sounds like a real challenge.”

  “What a jerk,” Chef Claire whispered into her glass as she took a sip.

  “Indeed,” Rosa said, glancing over at her husband. “Move things along, Marco.”

  “Good idea,” Marco said to his wife. He glanced around and his eyes settled on a couple sitting next to the now very cranky Bronwyn. “Next, I’d like to introduce Donato and Maria Peccati.”

  They both smiled shyly and gave everyone a small wave.

  “The Peccati’s run a catering company near Milan and are thinking about opening a restaurant,” Marco said.

  “We are,” Donati said in halting English as he reached for his wife’s hand. “Hopefully, sometime early next year.”

  “That is our goal,” his wife Maria said, also struggling with her English.

  “How exciting,” Chef Claire said, raising her glass in salute. “Good luck.”

  “Thank you,” the couple said in unison.