The Ingredients for Happiness

by Lucy Knott

  Louisa wandered back inside. Reaching their table, she bent down and wrapped her arms around Luca, kissing his cheek in thanks for being so patient. He had not yet finished his dish, having waited for her. She smiled sweetly and received a dashing smile in return, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight that blazed through the glass pane. She wished to sit and stare into his happy crystal eyes for a much longer time that she now had left of her lunch. They tucked into their now cooler, yet still utterly delicious meals, and resumed their talk of travel and the adventures they would one day take.

  Two hours later and Louisa found herself daydreaming of Luca as she worked on an outfit for an up-and-coming fashion blogger hoping to be the next Chiara Ferragni. She let out a buoyant sigh. She felt deliriously jovial, though that could also be because of the sheer amount of butter she had feasted on during lunch. Whichever it might be, she felt grateful for the happy distraction from thinking about the showcase results and the worry that her sisters were currently in a disagreement.

  A tinkle of the bell in the front of the shop indicated a customer had just left. Louisa drew her eyes to the doorway of the office as Giulia walked in holding three garment bags. Today Giulia looked positively radiant in a little black dress with a chunky grey knit cardigan that Amanda would have been jealous of. Her face wore a pink hue from her light blush and her lips were plump with a slick of gloss. There wasn’t a moment where Louisa didn’t feel inspired by her. Today Louisa had paired her trusty white Converse, perfect for keeping up with Luca’s strides, with black tights, a pink suede knee-length skirt and black fitted polo neck. All had received Giulia’s appraisal when she had arrived at work this morning and it only motivated Louisa more.

  ‘Cara mia, this lady wishes to have some alterations to her dresses. I want you to do it,’ Giulia said, laying the dresses down across the small bench adjacent to Louisa’s worktop. Louisa admired Giulia’s straight to the point way. She didn’t pull any punches with Louisa. Just like at the fashion show when she didn’t stand for Louisa’s self-doubt, here in the shop she challenged Louisa. If Giulia didn’t like a design she would say so, for she didn’t want to make it if ‘Louisa was a crazy woman’ and couldn’t see its potential. Often all it would take was a look and a sigh from Giulia as she waved her hand over a sketch, for Louisa to glance over it and see what it was missing. Giulia truly was like her fairy godmother, turning rags into the most magnificent pieces.

  Right now, she was challenging Louisa in taking on a task that Louisa wasn’t quite comfortable with yet. She knew her way around a sewing machine, having grown up playing around with her nanna’s and her mum’s, but she had to admit to being a touch lazy at times, loving the drawing process much more; the maths aspect of sewing could tend to throw her and make her lose interest. Working alongside Giulia for the Young Designers Fashion Showcase had been an eye opener and she had had to pick up some slack and help Giulia to complete the dresses in time, when she had customers to see to.

  Her confidence and knowledge behind a sewing machine was slowly but surely starting to improve, one stitch at a time. She placed her pencil down and went to look at the items the lady had left for alterations. Giulia was careful in taking the first one out of its bag and the minute she held up the hanger and undid the zip, they were both engulfed in a puff of tulle.

  ‘Argh, I can’t breathe,’ Louisa chuckled. ‘My goodness, it’s incredible,’ she added, gently trying to pat down the tulle so she could see Giulia’s reaction. Louisa loved tulle and the way it created full skirts, swishing capes and extravagant trains that made you feel exquisite on a special occasion. Giulia on the other hand, preferred the sleek, A-line, figure-hugging sophisticated looks, but wasn’t opposed to dramatic collars or flares. This piece was all Louisa, that was for sure. Another thing that Louisa was sure of was that this was going to be a pain in the butt to alter for someone who wasn’t a genie on a sewing machine like Giulia. But something in Giulia’s wide-eyed and pursed lips of an expression told Louisa that this was a challenge to keep her on her toes.

  Untangling themselves from the plumes of ombre chiffon and tulle and battling the dress back into its garment bag proved to be a workout. Giulia hung the bag on the rack next to Louisa’s worktop and nodded, ‘You got it, right?’ Louisa couldn’t help the laugh that barreled out of her and was pleased to see that Giulia was laughing too.

  ‘The lady, she needs them back in due settimane,’ Giulia said through her laughter. Louisa stopped laughing abruptly. Two weeks was no time at all. Before she could persuade Giulia that she would require her help with this, Giulia winked and exited the office. Well, it was nice to know that Giulia had faith in her.

  Chapter 15

  Sfogliatelle

  Ingredients:

  For the pastry:

  2 cups all-purpose flour

  1 cup semolina flour

  ⅛ tsp salt

  1 cup unsalted butter

  ½ cup water

  For the filling:

  1 cup of whole milk

  ¼ cup semolina

  1 cup ricotta

  ¼ cup sugar

  Zest of two lemons

  1 egg

  Cinnamon

  Vanilla

  What to do:

  Make again and WRITE STEPS DOWN. Don’t forget this time. Not everyone has a visual in their minds of Grandpa making them.

  WRITE IT DOWN.

  Should I share on blog?

  The sounds of Andrea Bocelli emitted from the red CD player in the corner of the kitchen. Amanda was swaying along, her head down, long, wavy brown hair perched on top of her head in a messy bun, and the lemon rind that dipped in and out of the waves of custard as she stirred the mixture were keeping her thoughts light and distracted.

  ‘Amanda,’ came a shout. ‘Amanda!’ The shout came again, as Amanda realized she was now singing very loudly along to Andrea Bocelli and her voice didn’t sound anywhere near as good as his. She looked up to see who was shouting her name, blinking, her eyes adjusting to the bright kitchen lights. She cast a look at Lauren, but she had her head hunched over the pasta machine and to Amanda’s pleasant surprise seemed to be humming along to Andrea Bocelli too. This only cemented the fact that even though she had originally just been a supply sous-chef, Amanda had been right to offer her the position after how smoothly she had fitted in to life at the café. Lauren had been eager to learn more of Amanda’s grandpa’s recipes – another positive sign, Amanda had thought. Lauren was busy today trying her hand at sfogliatelle. Amanda watched as Lauren placed the dough through the machine until a cough interrupted her evaluating glance.

  ‘Boss?’ It was Kate.

  ‘Sorry, is everything okay Kate?’ Amanda asked, registering Kate by the doors and still whisking her mixture over the stove.

  ‘We’re not even open yet and three different media outlets have rung at least twice each,’ Kate sighed. Amanda studied Kate’s tired face. Today her cropped brown hair held two clips either side of her ears to keep the strands from falling in her face. She wore slim black trousers with a neat pair of black pumps and a short-sleeved white T-shirt. They had become fast friends over the past few weeks.

  Kate had proven to be incredibly efficient keeping the café running smoothly out front and she turned up early every day to see if Amanda needed help making anything. The kitchen had been running like clockwork with Lauren’s skills and the addition of Liam lending a hand every so often. More than once, Amanda had toyed with offering him a job, feeling like there was a chance that he might say farewell to his electrical endeavours and take it; he was here so much anyway. Amanda had been happy to teach Kate a few recipes in the early hours each day and it was at the point now that Amanda could trust Kate with whipping up the chocolate filling for the cannoli and the limoncello frosting for the lemon cupcakes. An extra pair of hands couldn’t go amiss and in her grandpa’s books, ‘It was better to know than not to know’. After having her staff not turn up on opening day, Amanda thought
it best that her team were familiar with each part of the café and knowing how to bake. And knowing how to bake Italian – well, forget the cherry on the top of the cake, that was the sambuca thrown in the cake for good measure.

  ‘We’re just going to have to ignore them. We must still answer the phone but as soon as they make themselves known I give you permission to hang up,’ Amanda said, removing the custard from the stove top and placing it on a mat to cool. She was happy to see Kate chuckle. Kate had had experience working in cafés before, but Amanda was aware of how exhausting opening week had been, especially if you considered the unique addition of having world famous rock stars attending opening day, leading to every member of staff having been rushed off their feet with a welcomed, but all the same unexpected, workload. Amanda was grateful for the interest in the café; it was a dream having it brimming with customers, and she was also eternally grateful for her incredible team.

  ‘Putting the phone down on celebrities and social media giants! Aren’t we rebels, sticking it to Hollywood?’ Kate laughed.

  Amanda pondered this for a moment. She guessed it was true. She had never craved the glitz and glamour of the celebrity world. She wasn’t about to lie and say she had never thought about what it would be like to be known as a highly sought-out chef the world over, but when Sabrina had gotten into the music business that bubble had burst. She was on the receiving end of her sister’s late-night Skype calls when she’d got home at three in the morning after having spent the night being berated by Lydia or holed up in a toilet as paparazzi tried to barge their way in and get a picture of the latest pop star who’d had far too much fun for their own good. Not to mention reading articles about Dan that clearly portrayed what the media thought of him and dreamed him up to be, instead of writing about who he truly was. She was still getting used to that, especially now that they were dating. Dan being a rock star as well as her best friend was easier to digest when she focused on just that and avoided media outlets altogether. It was easier said than done at times, when paparazzi appeared on her doorstep, but she would then simply remind herself that they didn’t know the Dan she knew and it would ease the nerves that tried to stir trouble in her brain. If she thought she had a thick skin before, it was nothing compared to what she had had to develop over the last few weeks since opening Torta per Tutti.

  She wasn’t happy that Sabrina was keeping the band away from the café. Yes, Amanda wanted to achieve success with the café without the suggestion that she was riding the coat tails of San Francisco Beat, which was how the magazines had so eloquently put it this past week. Kate had informed her of this news, and yes, she understood the boys were busy recording but she missed having them around and it only cemented her disdain for celebrity culture that Sabrina was enforcing such a rule because she couldn’t have her rock stars being seen hanging around a very un-rock-star-like establishment; not that Amanda thought for a second that would concern any of their fans, so what was Sabrina’s problem?

  Her team here at Torta per Tutti would stick to their guns and prove to Sabrina they could handle the media. The boys could come back and everything would be just fine, as fine and as smooth as the creamy, glistening pan of custard she had to remember not to stick her finger in to taste. Old habits die hard, but there was no licking the spoon in this kitchen, not when you had health inspectors on the prowl. What happened in one’s kitchen at home, stayed in one’s kitchen at home, she mused. It had been easy enough to remember that when surrounded by Michelin-star chefs, in hot and steamy kitchens around the world, in the most professional of settings, but here at Torta per Tutti Amanda felt much more relaxed. She loved it. Her kitchen was bright and cheerful and felt like home; she firmly believed this made the food taste even richer, for when there is love and passion in the food, there is no beating it.

  ‘Rebels, we shall be.’ Amanda pulled her attention from the mesmerizing liquid to gather the next ingredients she needed and to go through her plan with Kate and Lauren. ‘I have no problem with fans asking questions, but we can’t be giving out details on the boys without Sabrina’s permission. I’m okay with pictures being taken of this place, but if anyone asks questions, just try and keep it professional. We can’t hide from it, there’s bound to be more phone calls, but can I ask that we just keep our heads down and see to it that personal information stays within these walls as best it can? I have no doubt that once the reporters realize we won’t take the bait on whether Dan is a “boxers or briefs” kind of guy, or what shower gel Levi washes with, they will get bored and move on,’ Amanda noted, while adding flour to her bowl to prepare the pastry for her custard tarts.

  ‘Ooh, so which is it?’ Kate asked with a playful smirk. Amanda cocked her head at Kate knowing exactly what was coming next. ‘Is Dan boxers or briefs?’ Amanda snorted and blew a scoop of flour in Kate’s direction, causing the girls to laugh along with her.

  ‘I’m being serious,’ Amanda said with a smirk. ‘We keep our heads down and show Sabrina we can handle ourselves; she can put a stop to her silly rule, then you can see for yourself.’ Amanda winked at Kate, who blushed a rosy shade of red.

  ‘I’ll open up. Francesca should be here any minute, she just had to drop her kids off at nursery,’ Kate announced, changing the subject but leaving the kitchen with a definite extra pep in her step. It wasn’t only Amanda that was missing the boys.

  Amanda chuckled, tipping out the dough she had expertly formed while talking with everyone and beginning to knead it. Francesca, the lady that had tugged at Amanda’s heart strings on opening day, had been coming in regularly with her children in tow and always brightened Amanda’s day. Francesca recalled her childhoods spent up in the mountains of Calabria with her papa; of how they didn’t have a lot but spending time with him hunting for food or braving the hikes down the mountainside to visit the markets were some of her fondest memories.

  Amanda had learnt that Francesca had moved to England when her husband got a job here nearly a year ago. She moved her dad over with her when he got sick and though he was grateful that his time in England made him well, he missed his home in Italy terribly. Amanda loved talking to Francesca and sending cake boxes home to her papa. Earlier this week when Francesca made her usual visit, Amanda received a nudge from her grandpa up above and threw out the question she had been eager to ask her; ‘Would you like to work here?’ Francesca always seemed to enjoy her time at Torta per Tutti and Amanda sensed that she needed a friend and a place to belong, having not been in England very long and her kids occupying most of her time. Now they were at nursery, Amanda thought it would be a perfect fit. Francesca had jumped off her stool and embraced Amanda with squeals of glee, answering her question with a profound ‘Yes!’ – just thinking about it made Amanda smile. For Torta per Tutti to have that effect on people; for it to be a loving, warm and homey environment for others and not merely just a café – that idea was everything to Amanda.

  *

  It had been another successful and exhausting day at Torta per Tutti. Francesca had left around 4 p.m. to pick up her kids. Amanda had sent Lauren and Kate home a little after six as the last customers left, while she and Liam remained behind, tidying up the last bits and pieces in her beautiful kitchen. Liam had called by around five and jumped in with helping Kate with a few of the last orders of the day. Content that Kate and Lauren were heading home together in the evening sunlight, he had insisted on staying to close up with Amanda, knowing she often didn’t leave until late. Leaving Liam to empty the dishwasher, she walked into the front of the café to find Dan was waiting for her. All six-foot-one of him was leaning forward on the coffee bar; his forearms resting on the top, fingers intertwined, his usual relaxed and effortlessly cool stance. His shoulder-length dark waves framed his face. When he saw her, he ran a hand through his hair, rustling up the floppy waves that gave him a ‘just got out of bed’ dreamy look, and stood up straight to greet her. He really was unreal. She made for him straight away.

  ‘You sm
ell good enough to eat,’ Dan whispered in her ear, causing Amanda’s whole body to tingle as his warm breath tickled her neck.

  ‘As do you.’ She managed a quick reply before Dan’s lips were on hers. Time seemed to stop when he kissed her. She melted into him with no care nor concern for the world around her. She felt as light as a feather, happy to be whisked away by the breeze. He slowed the kiss, gently nibbling her lip before stepping back, his dark eyes filled with desire. ‘You are a bad influence on me,’ she said, lovingly shoving Dan, who she had no doubt read her mind as he caught her shove and bent down, peppering kisses over her cheeks and nose. Suddenly Dan froze and this time Amanda was fully aware of what had caused his sudden shift in demeanour.

  ‘Looks like you don’t need me tonight,’ Liam said, with a light chuckle and a sheepish grin. Amanda smiled, genuinely appreciating Liam’s kindness and good humour. She turned away from Dan to thank him with a chuckle of her own, trying to ease the tension that she felt radiating off Dan.

  ‘No, but thank you for being here Liam. I’ll see you tomorrow – the espresso and pastry will be waiting,’ she said with a smile, not wanting Dan’s presence to intimidate Liam. She very much enjoyed his company and she didn’t think Kate would be best pleased if Dan drove him away because he’d got the wrong idea.

  ‘Nice to see you again, mate,’ he said to Dan.

  ‘Good to see you too man,’ Dan replied with a salute as Amanda gave Liam a quick hug and saw him out of the door. Amanda didn’t waste time. She was aware of Dan’s tired features and was all too familiar herself when it came to lack of trust in a relationship. She had Jason to thank for that, but she would not be having Dan thinking that of her.