Let's Get Something to Eat

 Silence in its powerful glory. Calms the mind's complexities. Transforming the rigorous clamor of thoughts. While easing the tumultuous current of feelings. With his palms open on his knees. Rocco sits in lotus pose. Breathing deeply only to relax on the slow exhale. On the floor in front of his desk. In the still darkness of his office. Shave and a hair knocks on the door. Manipulating the silence. Awakening Rocco from his meditation. Rising to his feet, slipping his shoes on by the door. Opening it bewildered as he straightened his jacket.

“Oliva, it’s 10:30 already?”

“Sigh* meditating huh? If I didn’t know you man. Rock I’d swear you were on drugs or a closet alcoholic.”

     After a hug they walked in unison down the narrow hallway. Rounding the corner past the entrance to the grocery area. Inside the local specialty foods store. 

“Ready to teach some kiddos, bro?!”

      Olivia exclaimed, amping herself up. Rocco laughs and nods. Putting his right hand inside his coat. Resting it on his solar plexus. Concentrating on his breathing. 

“How’s Janice, the vacation was too good, huh?” 

     Putting her arm around him. As she whispered just before they entered his ghost kitchen.

“Bro, it was great so fuckin’ need and necessary. Janice misses you and she’s great, man.”

     Entering through the threshold. Olivia broke out in front. Beginning to address her 12 students aligned horizontally. Rocco stood stoically with his right hand in his coat. Placing his left hand on the towel hanging on his apron. As he focused on his breath. Dispersing his thoughts and regulating his emotions. 

“Today kiddos, we have the pleasure to learn “how to roll pasta” from an accredited ACF Chef. In his ghost kitchen for I Meandri Osteria(The Meanderers Eatery). I introduce to you my dear friend and colleague Chef Rocco Meandri. Chef Meandri, the floor is yours.”

     Olivia backed up gracefully. As Rocco moved forward. They low fived as they passed each other. Just as they did in the culinary program in vocational. Even through culinary school. Silent still his focus on his breath. Rocco looks into the eyes of the students. Some focused, determined, concerned, confident but most were afraid. The passion for the art form that burned within Rocco. Could no longer be contained.

“As the influential Chef Gorlaski stated. I am Chef Meandri. This block in your semester e pane ed pasti(is pasta and bread). What I do within these walls. Is in the vein of alta cucina italiana(high Italian cuisine). I implore each of you to relax and open your minds. Together today we are going to forage a new path in traditional thought.”

     As Rocco walked toward and through them. Olivia followed closely behind. Turning around some of the stragglers. In a row on the prep table. In a uniformed line 12 bowls. 00 Semolina Flour & Pastry Flour in a 2 to 1 ratio. In a smaller bowl was 13 egg yolks.

“Salt and pepper are already in the bowls. Let love flow out of your hands apprendisti(apprentices). Knead deep, fold sharply, comense”

     Rocco backed up allowing the kids to work. Breaking the line backwards near Olivia. While his heart sank into his stomach. Swarming him like a warm blanket. The overwhelming feeling of guilt. Olivia who is quite observant. Noticed the emotional drop off of her friend.

“Rock? Hey man, breathe. Every time you make with pasta it fucks you up emotionally.”

“Sulking I know but I only know my nonna’s(grandma) recipe.”

     Olivia grabs Rocco looking with her right eye into his left. Spoke with one voice(heart, mind & spirit as one) in conviction.

“Bro, the trip to Cancun ten years ago was super necessary. Grandma Sophie was an amazing woman. I miss her too. You couldn’t save her even with your knowledge of nutrition now. She died of heart disease from type 2 diabetes. The best of what could’ve eased the progress of her ailments. Wasn’t even known yet. It would kill her if she knew you carried this burden.”

     Rocco swallowed his pride. Pulling Olivia’s head into his softly. 

“It goes as soon as it comes, paisana(feminine* friend). It’s gotten better over the years. Your concern eases it faster. Though it’s all good, I swear. It’s time to cut some pasta. Tend to the students. I’ll be right back.”

     Rocco turns from his dear friend towards the cooler. Humming Lush Life by his beloved Coltrane. Slightly dancing on his walk to the cooler. Olivia smiles, shaking her head at her goofball paisan(masculine* friend). Turning to her students Olivia makes note of their progress. The majority did well in forming the ball. The students she was skeptic of exceeded expectations. Olivia explained the saran wrap technique. While she grabbed the industrial box. As Rocco reapproached with a sheet rack. Loaded with trays of pasta. 

“Alright kiddos line up with your bowls. As you finish wrapping you’ll place this finished product on the tray behind the box of saran. Then walk over to the dish area and clean and dry the bowl. So let’s get to it!”

     Rocco rolled the rack over to the prep table. Suggesting to Olivia that they break out into teams. To which she agreed and aided him in emptying the cart. Together as they reset the table. They began to sing songs they sang in culinary school. Starting with Come On Let’s Go into Another Saturday Night and finishing with Another Big Night Down The Drain. As the students formed around them. They began to applaud at the end of the third number. Shocked by their amusement, the two turned to them. Rocco in response to the applause began to bow. Olivia flushed with embarrassment, valiantly composed herself. Starting to give instruction bumping into Rocco. Suggesting he quit his antics. He obliged as she began.

“You’ll now split into two groups of 4 and one of 5. You’ll first observe Chef Meandri cut three pastas; Lagane, Ravioli and lastly Linguine. You’ll also learn the region and history of the pastas. Chef Meandri again the floor is yours.”

     Finishing the setup Rocco turned again to the students. Waving them forward he spoke through one voice.

“Please hold your applause, I'm grateful. Now as you know the cuisine is Italian. I myself am Italian- American. Lagane ed Ravioli both appear in the culture in the 1400’s. Lagane is from Napoli. The pasta is also native to Craco, Italia. Where my familia(family) comes from. Ravioli on the other hand originates from the north eastern part of the country. Historians believe the origin’s somewhere between Piedmont ed Liguria, Italia. Linguine however is native to Genoa, Italia. Showing up sometime in the 1700’s.”

     Rocco then turns around and opens his knife roll. Taking out his 10in from haul Euro chef’s knife. Began furiously sharpening it on the steal. Wiping both sides of the blade on the towel in his apron. Swiftly turning to the table as the students swarmed him. Cutting the sheet of pasta into three sections. 

“After you divide the sheet. You can start with whichever pasta you’d like. I personally begin with Linguine. It’s the most dauntingly tedious of the three. I implore all of you to be sure your knife is sharp. Otherwise this is going to be a horrible time for you.”

     With no ruler using the index finger of his right hand. Rocco began to slice fast and gently. Moving the blade up and down the section of the sheet. Finishing with three cuts horizontally. 

“Watch closely you don’t want to mush the pasta. Roll and fold moving your hands quickly.” 

     After the initial example he asked if there were any questions on the technique. To which there was none. With ease in seconds Rocco had eight piles of twisted Linguine. Then he cut the second section into squares that were 3x2 inches. Sighting that they were for Ravioli. As he flowed into organizing them. Then into cutting the Lagane. Rocco felt as if he didn’t exist. All his senses faded with every action. Appearing as if he were a maestro conducting a symphony. Cutting and organizing the Lagane with the other pastas. Out of his soul came an uttered sentence. More for Rocco himself apropos for the students. As they watched him work effortlessly enamored with awe.

“There is no try, and no wasted movements.”

     Olivia reminded the students before they began to attempt the labor. To label all they make and place it in the cooler. As the students commenced Olivia and Rocco walked over to the cafe in the store for coffee. They chatted about what the plans were for the evening. Rocco ordered two large black coffees. 

“Thanks Rock, Janice and I will go on our afternoon run. Then fuck off the rest of the night. What about you, paisan(masculine* friend)?”

     Receiving their cafe(coffee) walking back to the ghost kitchen. Rocco conveyed he had no idea. Sipping his coffee he breathed deep and exhaled. He spoke with elation from one voice.

“Nicole will be off work around 5. She doesn’t know I have no events tonight. So maybe a surprise dinner for the beloved in a clean house is in order. You guys should join us.”

“You’re cookin’ dinner? What are you gonna make? Though either way we’re there, man.”

    Laughing hysterically reentering the ghost kitchen. Watching as the students worked diligently on the labor. With little to no difficulty. The rest of the instruction flew by as if they all fell into flow state. Which does from time to time in the world of culinary arts. The constant repetition of instant gratification and rushing release of dopamine. Can, will and has caused many chefs, line cooks and prep personnel to cease existing for extended periods of time.

     After cleaning up and saying goodbyes till the evening dinner party. Rocco made his way back to Medina from Downtown Wooster. He drove in silence regulating his breathing. Calming and bracing himself for the dopamine drop. Coming to the light near his old high school. The drop was hard. Another corrupted memory peaked through his center. In the backseat of his mother’s car. Having been picked up from detention. Unable to stop or control the memory from playing. Rocco muted its sound, refusing to hear the filth that would spew from her lips. Still at the red light his hands tightened on the wheel. The anger response was braced for as he clutched his teeth. Now violently shaking his head no. Attempting to not relinquish his self control.

     The light turned green and Rocco slammed his right foot on the accelerator. The anger morphed into confidence. From one voice he screamed his truth.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!! I am not a worthless piece of shit! I am nothing like my father! You have no power here! I am loved and worth being loved!”

      Exhaling aggressively after crossing the intersection. Recomposing himself after coming back into the current moment. Regaining his consciousness of being as one. Rocco began to laugh at his epiphany. Of being a vessel in a vessel. Floating the rest of the way back to his abode. 

     Once in the driveway of his condo. Throwing his knife roll on his right shoulder. Removed his socks and shoes. Grounding himself on the walk into his domain. Feeling the cool summer breeze. Rocco decided to pause a moment in impermanence. Watching the leaves dance to the song of the summer breeze. That kissed him as he took off his socks and shoes. 

     Entering his home Rocco attributed his mood drops to coming out of the hell of quitting smoking. Now in  his living room. Rocco realized it was clean. So he quickly tidied up a bit more. His inner monologue sang with glee.

“Every Friday the beloved Nicola(Nicole) comes over and stays the following week.”

     Back in the kitchen to clean and organize it to his standards. For this was the sanctuary of his dojo. In a flash he was ready for his private dinner service. As he was finishing the dreaded putting away of dishes. The front door flung open. A feminine sigh followed the thud of a bag and drop of keys. In low excitement Nicole exclaimed.

“Babe?! You don’t have an event tonight?!”

     Without turning around from his dreaded labor he said nope. Handing her the glass of dry red he poured seconds ago. He embraced her with a handful of dishes to be put away.

“Because I’m free I figured I’d cook and clean. So I can give you all my attention. Olivia and Janice will be over tonight also. Tell me about your day mama.”

     Sipping her wine she smiled after he kissed her. Returning to finish his labor. Nicole topped off her wine. As she began to unload her torment. Finishing his labor responding as necessary. Also turning away from the corrupted memories of past toxic relationships began to swarm. Finally through with the hated labor. Rocco turned to Nicole who was finishing up her convey of torment. Standing closed off with arms crossed lamenting her frustration. The fire of passion burned furiously within Rocco. His love for her was deeper and stronger than any past relationship memory could phantom. Tossing the towel from his shoulder onto the chair at the kitchen table. 

     Locking eyes with Nicole as her focus went from the floor. Having been consumed by the way her day unfolded. Rocco closed the distance between them.

“I hate that shit happened to you. Don’t let the negativity crush your spirit, bella donna(beautiful woman). Ed per favore non dimenticar amore Nicola(And please don’t forget I love you Nicole).”

     Gently taking her by her wrists. Opening Nicole from her closed stance. Getting her to dance with him. As he began to sing Everybody Loves Somebody Sometimes to her. After the chorus Rocco spun her around. Locking with her green eyes he could contain the passion no longer. Letting it flow his mouth into hers. Finishing the embrace by kissing her neck. From one voice with the sound of love Rocco spoke his thoughts.

“Your independence is attractive. You're going to school full time. Busting your ass hyper passionate about social work. Then you go to a job 5 to 6 days a week. Where you’re back handedly disrespected and mistreated. With no complaints and determination to achieve your dream career.”

     Nicoles heart opened to her love. Shocked and amazed he saw her for what she believed she was. She now closed the distance between them. Throwing her arms around him. Squeezing with all the love she had.

“I had a really good talk with your dad two days ago. I got a suggestion for your predicament. Also you mentioned last weekend you were feeling school work was suffering a bit.”

     Pulling back in intrigue Nicole spoke with interest.

“A suggestion, hmmm? And I’ve adjusted to my drop. What did you talk about with my dad?”

      Pulling her back into him. Rocco articulated the truth from one voice.

“You mama, I’m old world miei amore(my love). eskimo kiss It’ll be two years next month on the 14th. You got two years left in school. Move in with me to finish it. Lean on me financially by quitting that job so you can focus on what you wanna do. It’ll also give you the time to find the right spot after school.”

     Nicole, though in love with Rocco, backed away shyly. Noticing her uncomfort he softened his posture. Picking her face up so he could look in her hurting green eyes.

“I know it picks up our pace. I also know about your former fiancee. He backed out when you turned down his suggestion. Because you're strong in your independence. Which came up in the conversation with Pete.”

     She pulled away in shame. Rocco didn’t even let her leave the kitchen. 

“Nic, Nic. listen to me. No judgment, he told me to expect this. There’s a caveat with my suggestion.”

“Uh, caveat?”

     Stopping with her back to him. She moved back into him. His face now at her right ear.

“Yes mama, a caveat. First there’s no rush for your decision. Take as long as you like, for real I’m cool with it. Secondly there’s no wrong choice.”

“Elaborate no wrong choice.”

      Rocco grabbed Nicole's left hand and began rubbing the back of his head with it. With his right hand. He began to rub her stomach as if it held a child. Her right hand fell and guided along with his. Nicole now believing she knows what the discussion between Rocco and her dad was.

“What I mean Nic. If you say yes I help lift you up to achieving your dream job. If not this isn’t ending. We’ll just move at our current pace. I love you Nic, your happiness is important to me. I can just see our future clearer than you can.”