The Ingredients for Happiness

by Lucy Knott

  *

  Three hours later and Louisa was certain all her carefully applied makeup had melted off her face in a puddle of sweat. She felt exhilarated yet drained – like she had just run a marathon, when in fact she had barely moved a muscle as she watched her models take the stage. Now she was being handed back her garments, placing them delicately back into the bags and hanging them on a rack. The models had been stunning; a beautiful mix of elegance and fire, all different shapes and sizes and all representing her work in fine form. She couldn’t have felt more thankful for each one of them.

  ‘I can keep the dress, no?’ Bianca asked, a small smile curving up at the edge of her rosy-pink lips, as she ever so gently handed Louisa back the black dress with a black collar, baring a sparkling silver stitched feather on each side of the neck and a pearl-trimmed waistband, that all came just above the knee. Bianca had long brown hair that glistened. Giulia had straightened it to the point where Louisa couldn’t remotely hide her hair envy. Rapunzel, eat your heart out, she thought, unable to hide the longing look she gave Bianca’s tresses as she received the dress. Her cheekbones were starting to sting with the beaming smile that appeared on her face after hearing Bianca’s words and that she hadn’t been able to wipe off her face as her models and her clothes hit the catwalk amongst some of Italy’s top up-and-coming fashion designers.

  Of course, the judges had remained poker-faced throughout the entire event, so she had no idea if her work had been well received or not, but she had done it. In a matter of two and a half months she had designed and created, alongside Giulia, five bespoke pieces that she truly adored, and had gotten them ready for a catwalk.

  She shook her head, suddenly aware that she was staring at the bagged-up dress in her hand and had not responded to Bianca. ‘Grazie mille,’ Louisa said softly and Bianca smiled up at her sweetly, Rapunzel eyes to match her hair. ‘Your work e bella. The detail e magnifico e delicate. Brava,’ Bianca added, before turning her attention back to getting dressed. The backstage area had already started to disperse, makeup artists were finishing packing up their colourful trays of blushes and shadows, and the models were slipping into more comfortable attire. Louisa couldn’t believe it was all over. She wanted to do it all over again; she’d take the sweat and all the anxiety just to see her pieces floating along the runway once more.

  ‘Sei pronto?’ Louisa heard Giulia ask from behind the boutique’s clothing rack. Giulia was experienced in this field; her models were already fully clothed – coats, scarves and all – to meet the March chill, her outfits all zipped up, makeup gear and hair tools away, which left her stood waiting for Louisa, giving her a mock impatient flutter of her wispy lashes.

  ‘Aspetta, aspetta, wait,’ Louisa sang, quickly taking her garment bags off the back of the makeup chairs and adding them to the rack. ‘Is everyone okay? Have you all got everything?’

  ‘Si, signora,’ they all echoed, making their way out of the cubicle, waving at the other makeup artists, models and designers on their way out.

  There had been a relatively short thank you speech from the judges when the show finished, but there would be no winner announced today. They would receive a call in a few weeks on Palm Sunday. So now, Louisa could put her worries to one side and simply relax and enjoy the rest of her Saturday, right? She wouldn’t think about winning the opportunity to have her pieces spread out in Vanity Fair Italia. It wasn’t a big deal. Her cheeks stung once more from the grin stuck on her face.

  ‘Amore mio,’ Luca shouted as the Italian breeze met Louisa’s neck, sending a shiver down her spine. It had been so warm in the building that she hadn’t yet put on her coat. Luca widened his strides and was quick to greet her, immediately wrapping her up in his tall frame, warming her with his touch. ‘Wow, you blow me away. You did it, amore,’ he said, bending slightly so his piercing blue eyes met her brown ones. He held her out at arm’s reach so she could see the excitement in his face – his mouth open, his eyebrows raised with such amazement and pride. Louisa reached up to his face, her coat balancing over her forearm, cupped his cheeks and kissed his cool lips.

  ‘Grazie, for believing in me,’ she whispered, pulling away from the kiss and planting a gentle one on his nose. Luca’s eyes sparkled with her words. He stood up a little straighter, kissed her on her forehead and then seemed to take her in again, his brows drawing in with concern. ‘What do you do, amore? You will catch a cold,’ Luca said, nodding at her coat and then quickly shifting his focus to the clothes rack, giving Giulia a congratulatory hug and steering the clothes towards the car. Louisa whipped her coat around her and hugged herself tight to ward off the chill, hooked arms with Giulia and raced after Luca to the car.

  The tiny towns whizzed by in a blur of colourful tapestries, beautiful almond blossoms and iron gates, as Louisa shuffled in her seat trying to get warm. Giulia had closed the boutique for the day, so they were heading to Alfonso’s for afternoon coffee and cake. Louisa was ready to devour all the cake, give her Nanna a giant bear hug and see what she thought of the whole fashion show thing. It wasn’t too far from the showroom in Positano back to Orzoro; with her nerves having settled a touch, Louisa sat back and enjoyed the views Italy blessed her with every day.

  Once they had pulled up in the square and made the short walk to Alfonso’s, Luca guided them through the hot and busy kitchen, the smell of freshly baked sfogliatelle and ricotta torte making Louisa lick her lips. She hadn’t eaten much all day because of the nerves taking up most of the room in her stomach. She greeted the pastry chefs and kitchen staff with cheery waves and grateful hellos before stepping into the café.

  If the dizziness from the lack of food hadn’t floored her, the sight she walked into was incredibly close to doing just that; her legs suddenly felt like frail twigs that might snap at any moment.

  Her zias and nanna were gathered together, along with Matilde – Guilia’s little daughter – and Luca and Giulia’s mamma and papa, in the alcove at the back of the shop that was usually reserved for small parties or meetings. There was a sign above their heads reading ‘Congratulazioni’ a tower of struffoli, a large dish of tiramisu, a bright white and fluffy Italian cream cake and champagne glasses sparkling with champagne and Aperol spritz laid out across the table. Glittering confetti decorated the white tablecloth.

  Cheers erupted in the small space when the families saw Giulia and Louisa. Matilde made a dash for her mamma and Nanna eased out of her chair, her hand gripping the table for support. Louisa dashed over to her, helping her to her feet as her nanna cried, ‘Cara mia, cara mia.’ Once steady, Louisa met her nanna’s glistening eyes. ‘What did you think, Nanna?’

  ‘You are magic, my granddaughter, magic. I would like to have each dress in my size,’ Nanna replied, touching Louisa’s cheek. ‘You have made me so proud,’ she added. Louisa bent down and hugged her for the second time, not really wanting to let go.

  ‘I cut the cream cake,’ Zia Rosa announced. Louisa squeezed her Nanna; she might just let go for cream cake.

  ‘Come on Nanna. Cake is calling,’ Louisa said, with a wink. ‘And, thank you, thank you for everything,’ Louisa whispered, dropping a kiss on her nanna’s soft grey hair. She then aided her in sitting back down, before wandering around their small party, receiving everyone’s congratulations and helping Giulia serve cakes.

  She stopped and squatted down to Matilde’s level when she saw the little girl sat cross legged on the floor at the end of the table, a handful of stuffoli in a bowl resting on her lap. They discussed which cake was the best for a few minutes which made Louisa chuckle as Matilde had it all figured out. ‘You have to have all the cakes to know which one is best.’ Her baby-blue child eyes were wide with wonder and most likely sugar. ‘That makes sense,’ Louisa replied, to which Matilde popped up, shouting out to her mamma, ‘Louisa said it is a good idea to have all the cake!’

  ‘She likes you, I think.’ Louisa jumped up at Luca’s silvery voice. He was leaning against the alcove’s wooden
arch, a maroon apron over his crisp white collared shirt. His arms were folded as he drank her in, his shirt taught against his biceps. He gave her a side smile that sent any inhibitions she could possibly have about extreme PDA in a café full of people, into orbit.

  She marched up to him, he stepped forward to meet her, and she flung her arms around his neck, breathing in his vanilla scent. Her body relaxed against his, a warmth settling in her stomach when his hands rested on the curve of her lower back.

  ‘Thank you for this,’ Louisa mumbled against his neck. Luca brought a hand up to brush back the wavy strands of hair that had escaped Louisa’s ponytail during the whirlwind of outfit assembly from earlier that day. ‘Amore, the clothes you make were meant for the runway. You did amazing, no? This, you deserve it. We are proud,’ Luca said, his voice soft as he gestured around the room at their families. She rested her head on his chest and looked around the room. Her chest rose with pride and satisfaction at what she had accomplished today. It had been a dream come true and, despite missing her sisters, she had done it.

  Chapter 12

  Nutella Cupcakes

  Ingredients:

  Sugar

  Eggs

  Butter

  Vanilla

  Pernigotti cocoa powder

  All-purpose flour

  Baking powder

  Salt

  Hazelnuts

  Homemade chocolate spread (Nanna’s recipe)

  Icing sugar

  What to do:

  Beat sugar and butter together until fluffy.

  Add eggs one at a time and vanilla and combine.

  Combine baking powder, flour, cocoa powder and salt in a bowl.

  Add dry ingredients to wet ingredients and stir.

  Scoop into cupcake cases and bake at 180 degrees for 25 minutes or until spaghetti comes out clean.

  Beat icing sugar with chocolate spread until thick. (Doesn’t need to be stiff – don’t add too much icing so it’s too sweet and sickly – mix to taste.)

  Spread on top of cupcake once cooled and decorate with a single hazelnut.

  Amanda uncurled a tiny piece of paper from her pocket, placed it down beside her and got to work. She didn’t want to be bothered by doubts or to dwell on the hole in her heart that seemed to be growing, making it hard for her to breathe this morning. She just wanted to channel her grandpa and cook. That would surely stitch up the hole that his absence was causing, right? She immediately relaxed as she read the recipe before her. Both she and her nonni didn’t care much for exact measurements, cooking was something they felt – it was in their blood, something that brought out so much love and passion in them. It had always been funny trying to write down the ingredients as Grandpa told them to her. Each recipe read more as a visual, as a mini film playing in her mind as she could see Grandpa in his element making it up as he went along. She simply repeated his actions, almost like he was standing right beside her.

  Manchester had been eerily quiet when she had left Dan sleeping in her bed at 4 a.m. this morning and made her way to her café. Her supply chef, Lauren, was already outside waiting, which had eased the heavy thumping in Amanda’s head about staff not turning up and everything going wrong. A little small talk and a tour of Torta per Tutti later and Amanda was comfortable in Lauren’s presence but only a bit less anxious, handing over some of her nonni’s beloved recipes and leaving Lauren to make them. And Amanda accused Sabrina of being a control freak?

  Three hours passed in a pleasant calm of happy baking. Lauren had been working wonderfully beside Amanda, listening to the odd instruction and following the recipes Amanda had set out for her without any qualms. Cornetti, focaccia and all kinds of breads were cooking slowly in the convection ovens, lemon cupcakes, banana and cinzano muffins and two different types of biscotti had filled up the cake counter; a pace had been set and a rhythm had followed naturally.

  Amanda brushed her flour-coated hands on her favourite ‘I can’t keep calm, I’m Italian,’ apron and rolled her eyes catching sight of the words that she once found amusing. Not today, she thought, not today. A loud knock at the door made her jump. She nervously cast her eye over her lemon-shaped clock and swallowed back her panic. Why was she panicking? She still had over an hour before she officially opened, and the food was coming along nicely.

  She rushed out to the front of the café and could hear the shuffle of people outside all nattering over each other on her doorstep. She couldn’t decide whether her family being here, so full of enthusiasm and pride, made her feel more or less nervous. She didn’t want to let them down. She fussed with the lock and opened the door to allow everyone to come tumbling in. They immediately sprang into action. Sabrina made fast friends with Kate, who was busy booting up the coffee machine and pressing keys on the till to spur it into action. Kate had only just let herself in through the back door five minutes ago and already she was blazing through her morning’s to-do list.

  Before questions could tumble off Amanda’s tongue or she could divvy out tasks, Kate spoke. ‘I’ve got it out here boss. I went over the table layout last night. When the other guys get here, I will give them their designated areas. I will manage the till. I’ll shout through if I need you and keep you updated on what’s selling. It’s entirely up to you if you make more or if you’d prefer the “once it’s gone its gone” concept. That might be trial and error after today, to see what you like.’

  There was more fiddling of the till as Kate checked over the change Amanda had stocked it with last night. Amanda had really grown to like Kate and in that moment, she wondered if it would be deemed unprofessional to hug her. Sabrina was now leaning on the counter, watching this exchange with a smile as bright as her yellow nail varnish.

  ‘I’ll be around all day today too, so if you need anything at all Kate, just let me know. I can mill about with the customers and get a feel for what they think of the place, sound good?’ Sabrina quipped.

  Amanda nodded/ ‘You are both amazing, thank you. I appreciate it a thousand-fold,’ she said, her hands coming together in prayer position, her eyes wandering over to the clock, her stomach performing another gymnastics manoeuvre.

  Amanda headed back into the kitchen, but not before pausing to take in her mum dusting down tables, her dad sweeping the wooden floor and her dear friends, Levi, Dylan and James pottering about helping Kate with the coffee bar while Sabrina read out today’s special baked goods for Dan to write on the special’s board. Catching Dan’s gravelly voice asking Sabrina, ‘Got it, what’s next?’ sent a bolt of pure love to Amanda’s heart. Dan was sporting his skinny black jeans, long-sleeved printed loose shirt and his hair tied up in a high bun, now that it was long enough. If the paparazzi’s signal hadn’t gone off the minute that this specimen stepped foot outside Amanda’s house this morning, then Amanda would be extremely surprised. She sighed, knowing she needed to pull her eyes away from him and her incredible family and get back to the kitchen.

  Lauren had replaced the cornetti in the oven with the sweet breakfast loaves that Amanda thought would be perfect accompanied with a dollop of butter and a strong espresso. The cooling crisp cornetti filled the kitchen with memories of sunny days in Nanna and Grandpa’s kitchen learning how to roll up the pastry to make the delicate cornetti shapes. This was it – her café was filled with her family and food made with love. Amanda felt like she was in a daze as she picked up her phone and texted Louisa to wish her luck for the fashion show and let her know that she missed her and was thinking about her. Amanda placed her phone out of the way on the counter and was momentarily stumped for what to do next. For some reason her emotions were torn; one second she felt pure excitement and delight, the next fearful and lost.

  ‘Boss, I don’t mean to alarm you, but I can’t get hold of the front-of-house staff. They haven’t turned up and doors officially open in fifteen minutes. But the good news is there is already a line around the block.’ At Kate’s words, Lauren looked up, eyes wide, meeting Amanda’s blank stare. Ama
nda gulped, wondering where the last forty-five minutes had gone.

  ‘Erm, right, let’s go,’ Amanda said as Kate marched back through the double doors leaving Amanda glued to the spot still watching Lauren.

  ‘Is everything okay, hon?’ Lauren asked, taking a moment away from the prosciutto she had moved on to slicing.

  ‘Erm, yes, I’m going,’ Amanda said, not moving, her legs feeling like jelly all of a sudden. ‘Okay, Lauren, have you got everything under control in here?’ Amanda asked, walking around the kitchen island to check on the ingredients she had put out for the Nutella cupcakes she was supposed to be making. Amanda had been excited to add these to her menu for the kids; it was something Italian that people would recognize, as she didn’t want her very authentic Italian menu to intimidate customers.

  ‘Yes, all good. I’ll bring out the breads shortly and get them in the window. It’s going to smell beautiful out there. It’s like heaven back here,’ Lauren replied with a sweet smile.

  ‘Amanda, where are you?’ Amanda heard Sabrina shout. God, she was dawdling, getting distracted by the food, she needed to be out front. She needed to officially open Torta per Tutti. It was time; two months of construction, grafting, failed plumbing, disappearing decorators, ninja paparazzi, snooty men in suits, and a dream that she had harboured since first stepping into the kitchen with her grandpa as a child, was about to come true. Her lips started to tremble, her eyes became blurry. Stop it, stop it, Amanda said to herself as Lauren guided her to the kitchen doors where Dan took her hand. Amanda looked around the café; Mum, Dad, Levi, James, Dylan, Sabrina and Kate were all waiting for her by the bay window. Stop it, her brain said more forcefully to herself this time. The tears were making it hard to see where she was going, the hole in heart threatening to tear it in two. She couldn’t do this now. Please don’t do this now, she begged of herself. But it was no use, in this moment, even when surrounded by people that loved her, she felt so very alone. It was in this moment that she felt every bit of strength leave her body. All the joyous memories and happy adventures she had accumulated over the past few months were outmatched by the need to hold his hand, to hear his voice, to live this moment together with him.