Rispetta il Cibo

The airport must have been designed by Versace.  Rome’s airport is bellissima.  I’ve been studying Italian since my sweet baby graduated high school.   All he ever talked about was cooking and many nights cooked for his father and I and his little brother.  The day he left broke my heart.  Our plan was to surprise him with plane tickets for Rome but for the following year.  He took it upon himself to enroll for that year, and we just couldn’t afford such an immediate departure.  I kind of lost my mind and we haven’t spoken since.  Occasionally, his father would get a text from him.  Happy Father’s Day, Buon Natale, Buon Compleanno, but nothing to me.  I realize that my son is one hundred percent my child, and has every ounce of my attitude, so while none of this surprises me, it still hurts.  I guess he’s trying to prove something.  It makes me crazy that he can’t just call.  Thank God for the language courses I’ve taken or else this would be that much more difficult.  As I pass through more TSA checkpoints and go to wait for my bag, I notice even their baggage handlers, and passport staff are all beautiful people.  Italians really know style, even if it is in a standard airport uniform.

I rented my car online, and because only my husband knows how to drive stick, I made sure I paid extra to get an automatic rental.  They gave me an Alfa Romeo.  My husband would be so jealous.  Thankfully, the apartment he’s living in is not far from the airport.  He’s in the heart of Roma and his apartment is a tiny studio with no view.  Only a tiny window of light in the kitchen and the bathroom. I guess for him, all he needs is a kitchen, bathroom and somewhere to lay his head, but he deserves better. 

Lennon has no idea I’m coming.  I think of every scenario in my head of how this could play out.  Either he’s going to be really mad, or really happy.  No mom wants to let go of either of her babies, but this one is so close to my personality, that you really can’t stand in his way.  When I opened my barbershop, my husband just stepped aside and was only there for support.  You couldn’t tell me anything.  I understand Lennon, but letting go was the hardest thing for me.

I finally arrive at his apartment but he’s not here.  I’m not sure what to do, so I put my bag at the door, and walk around his little piazza in hopes he might appear out of nowhere.  Maybe he’s working.  I guess I didn’t plan this out too well.  Just as those thoughts hit me, I almost get ran over by this asshole on a vespa.  And just as the words begin to form, “Hey, attenzione…” his helmet comes off.

“Mom?” 

Tears fill my eyes, and I can’t help but start crying instantly.  Il mio bambino!  We embrace for what feels like hours.  Just holding each other.

“Mom, what are you doing here?”

“I got your letter.”

Dear Mom, 

I know it’s been forever since I’ve talked to you.  I also know I could probably just pick up the phone and call you.  I’ve tried a hundred times, but I’ve always been afraid you’ll hang up on me.  I needed to do this for me.  Going to Rome was a huge opportunity for me, and I know you don’t like secrets, but you would’ve never said yes.  It’s been two years and I’ve learned a lot, but right now, I feel lost.  I need my mom.  I never thought I’d say that, but I wish you were here right now.  I hope you’d be proud of me.  I’ve been working really hard, and in two weeks, I’m driving up to Venice for a food festival called Rispetta il Cibo.  I’d love it if you could come to Venice for this.  I’m showcasing my food and it will give me an opportunity to show you that coming here was worth it.  I really miss you guys.  

Say hi to dad for me.

I love you, 

Lennon

·      

“I didn’t think you’d come.  I was literally leaving and forgot my phone charger, so I came back to get it.”  I notice his backpack and side bags on his Vespa.

“You were going to drive to Venice on that?”  

“Did you come here to lecture me?”  attitude on full blast.  Okay, calm down and give him a smart answer or you will have just wasted all this time and money coming here.

“I came here to drive us both to Venice.  I hope that’s okay?”

“It’s okay, Mom.”  Lennon began to put his things in my car, and we set off on the 4 and a half hour drive up to Venice. as they drove through the picturesque countryside and ancient cities. The initial silence was uncomfortable, but as the miles rolled by, conversation slowly flowed.

We reminisced about the past, recounting the joyful memories we shared when Lennon was a child. I remembered how we used to play games during long car rides, and we decided to play those games again.  My husband’s favorite game was “would you rather” questions.  With each game we played, the distance between us seemed to fade away, replaced by smiles and laughter.  

“Remember when you were first learning how to crack eggs?”

“Yeah, and me and Remy got into an egg fight in the kitchen, and you had a nervous breakdown because you knew you had to clean it all up, and we were grounded in our rooms for the rest of our lives?  Yeah, that was fun.”

“You’re supposed to be in your room still.”  We laugh.  This feels good.  I really want more of this connection.  “Can I tell you something?”

Lennon says with his typical sarcastic attitude, “haven’t you been telling me things?”

“Dad and I were going to pay for your plane tickets for Rome.  We just needed a little more time, babe.”

“It’s fine mom, that’s in the past.  I’m here, and I’m doing something with my life.  It’s okay.  And if I win this competition, I’ll get the money to pay off my student loans so I can get a better apartment.”

As they passed by Rome, Lennon pulls the car into Rome as far as he can and parks.  They get out and walk over to the Fontana di Trevi. 

“If you throw three coins in, make a wish, and they say it will come true.”  He says with a smile.

“I thought it was, throw three coins in and you’ll return to Rome?”

“I don’t know, but it’s good luck, and I’m going to need all the luck I can get.”  We throw the coins in, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see he took a selfie of us.  While we were in Roma, we had lunch at Osteria di Fortunata for the world’s best carbonara. The creamy, velvety sauce made with eggs, pecorino cheese, and pancetta creates a rich and savory flavor that dances on your taste buds. The al dente pasta perfectly absorbs the sauce, delivering a harmonious combination of textures. Every bite offers a burst of umami goodness, making it an irresistible and truly mouthwatering dish that captures the essence of Roman cuisine.  I have a feeling we’re going to gain weight while enjoy our drive.

Lennon talks about some of the other chefs he’s met while he’s been working and going to school here.  He’s independent and very sure of his career.  Secretly I hope that he chooses to come home one day and open a restaurant here, but I need to step down and just let him make those decisions.  I couldn’t be prouder of him, though.  The way he speaks about food is the way artists paint or musicians create music.  It just flows.  

Before I know it, a couple hours later, we have arrived in Florence.  Tuscany has always been on my bucket list with my husband, and now that Lennon is here, we’ll make a point to visit Tuscany together.  We arrive just in time for dinner at Di Poneta Novoli, and Lennon of course orders for me.  Eating Bistecca alla Fiorentina in Tuscany is a carnivorous indulgence like no other. The thick, juicy, and perfectly grilled T-bone steak, seasoned simply with olive oil, salt, and pepper, showcases the high-quality Tuscan beef at its best. As you cut into the steak, the smoky aroma fills the air, enticing your senses. The charred exterior contrasts beautifully with the tender, pink interior, resulting in a melt-in-your-mouth experience. Accompanied by a glass of robust Tuscan red wine, I am reminded that we have to get back on the road soon, so I can’t have more than one glass.  

I must say the Tuscan views are breathtaking and captures the essence of everything Italian. As we sit at the table, vineyards stretch out before you in neatly lined rows adorned with ripening grapes.  The rolling hills blanketed in vibrant shades of gold creates a gentile feeling across the landscape.  In the distance you can spot medieval hilltop villages with stone buildings standing proudly amidst the countryside.  Cypress trees stand out to me adding a touch of elegance and character to the surroundings.

Back in the car we return for more conversation.  It’s like two people finally getting to know each other and reclaiming a relationship that was never properly established.  It feels nice to be in Lennon’s comfort zone.  

“Are you getting nervous?”  I say, referencing the upcoming competition in Venice.  “What are you making?”

“I’m making my version of their dish, 'baccala mantecato'.  It’s a classic dish of Venice that is creamy and delicate made from salted cod, which is meticulously soaked, cooked, and then whipped into a velvety texture with olive oil and milk. The dish's richness is complemented by a hint of brininess, reminiscent of the sea that surrounds the iconic Venetian lagoon. Paired with a glass of crisp white wine, this culinary experience is an ode to Venetian culinary artistry and a memorable highlight of your visit to the "Floating City."”

“How long did it take you to memorize saying it that way?”  I said with a snicker.

“Mom!  This is my job.  If you can’t make food sound amazing, why would you ever want to eat it.  And for your information it took me about 4 days to memorize it and then transform it into my own version of it.  But Italians are very hesitant about changing their recipes so I have to be very careful of how I do this, or it could come off as insulting.”  

Three hours later, we arrive at the hotel where we’ll be staying.  I have to say, I’m beyond exhausted, and ready for sleep.  First, we drop our bags off at the hotel and settle in.  Lennon, then insists that we go to this tiny gelateria in town for gelato.  I must admit, besides having the best ‘proud mom moments’, Lennon’s been ordering for me the whole time, and it feels nice to let him take control.  I’m used to always making decisions at home with my shop, and the house, so it’s nice to let go a little.  

The mesmerizing green hue of the pistachio gelato adds a vibrant pop of color, creating images of lush Mediterranean landscapes and the essence of Italian gelaterias.  Each mouthful feels like a sensory journey evoking a sense of appreciation for the artistry and passion that goes into making this frozen masterpiece.

The next day, in a charming Venetian square, a culinary competition is underway, drawing a crowd of locals and tourists alike. Among the participants stands my baby boy, Lennon, his eyes filled with excitement and determination. He's here to showcase his culinary prowess and make a mark in the city of culinary legends.

Lennon confidently moves around her cooking station, his hands steady as he readies his ingredients. The aroma of his carefully selected spices fills the air, capturing the attention of curious onlookers.

The competition begins, and Lennon dives into his signature dish – a modern twist on classic Venetian baccala mantecato. His American flair is evident in the innovative use of locally sourced ingredients he discovered during his time in Venice. As he adds the last ladle of broth, his eyes sparkle with excitement, knowing that this dish is a reflection of his culinary journey.

The judges, seasoned Venetian chefs with a discerning palate, taste his creation with keen interest. Lennon stands tall, his heart pounding with anticipation, awaiting their verdict. The moment of truth arrives, and the judges nod appreciatively, their faces breaking into smiles of approval.

One judge remark, "The blend of flavors is remarkable, and the delicate balance of the fish and Venetian spices is masterful."

Encouraged by the feedback, Lennon beams with pride, grateful for the opportunity to share his passion for cooking with the world. As he finishes the competition, he is content, knowing that his experience in Venice has enriched his culinary skills.  

Proud is something I’ve always been of both of my boys, but this achievement has been a core memory we’ll both never forget.  I wish his father could’ve been here to see it, but I went live on Instagram for him, so he was there in spirit.  Lennon won the competition, but I had one more secret or surprise for him.  When my mom passed, she gifted both boys with money which has accrued interest over the last 10 years or so, and we have written Lennon a check to cover his entire school debt.   

The turning point came one evening after we returned to Roma, we went down to Amalfitana. As we sat on a cliff overlooking the shimmering waters of the Amalfi Coast during the sunset. Lennon expressed how he had missed our closeness and how much he cherished this trip. We shed tears together and hugged, knowing that we were healing their fractured bond.

The road trip through Italy became a turning point in our relationship. We discovered that beneath our differences lay a deep, unbreakable bond of love and understanding. We learned that it was okay to have disagreements and imperfect moments; what mattered most was the effort to listen and communicate openly.

When Lennon took me back to the airport, we promised each other to maintain the newfound closeness and not let it slip away again.  

I got home and my husband showed me the best video that unbeknownst to me, Lennon had taken pictures of me, us, food, and our road trip through Italy.  It will be something I will cherish for the rest of my life.

That Christmas, instead of a “Buon Natale” text from Lennon, my youngest son, Remy opened the door to Lennon standing there, and for the first time in 3 years we were all together again.