The Glassblower of Murano - Marina Fiorato [47]
Alessandro was greeted by the proprietario like a long-lost and much missed brother. `Niccolo, my cousin,' explained Alessandro from the comer of his mouth, as Leonora found herself on the receiving end of two effusive kisses - not the air-kisses of the English vicarage tea-party, but wellplanted, warm salutes. Niccolo, a similar age but twice the girth of Alessandro, led them to the best table, with a peerless view of the twilit Campo San Barnaba, with the fat, full moon rising.
`The moon shines bright ... On such a night as this ...' No, I must not get ahead of myself. Take everything as it comes.
As they settled themselves at the red-chequered cloth Niccolo appeared unbidden with two menus, a pair of glasses and a bottle of wine. He plonked the bottle in front of Alessandro, gave him a wink and a clap on the shoulder, then melted away.
As Leonora studied the menu she felt suddenly shy and discomfited. Their conversations had always been so direct and easy before that the silence troubled her. Her eyes scanned the Italian type, looking for comfort. She seized on two familiar words in her panic. `Minestrone and lasagne.'
Alessandro shook his head. `No'
`What!' she was briefly incensed.
`That stuff is for tourists. You live here. You should have this.' He rattled off two dishes in Veneziano so rapid that even her attuned ear didn't catch the words. `Polenta with calves liver and risotto d'oro. Both delicious, both Venetian specialities. You'll love the risotto, it's made with tiny flecks of gold leaf. Truly a dish of the gran signori.' He dropped his voice `You're not ... vegetarian are you?' as if enquiring after a delicate medical condition.
She shook her head emphatically.
`Thank God. All the English are. Niccolo!' Alessandro's cousin appeared from nowhere and took their order before Leonora could protest. She sat back, befuddled, and began to munch on a breadstick to buy some time. She had been furious when, in the past, Stephen had overruled her choices with his superior culinary knowledge.Why wasn't she angry now?
Because, you little fool, you're being introduced to Venice by a Venetian; you're being included, treated like a local, just as you wanted.
As if to reflect her thought, Alessandro spoke again. `You know, there's a story that breadsticks come from Venetian ship's biscuits, the food that built our trading empire. The recipe was handed down by mouth over the generations until the end of the eighteenth century, when it was lost forever. But then in 1821 someone found a whole batch of them in a bricked-up Venetian outpost in Crete, and reconstructed the formula from there.'
Leonora smiled, relaxed, and took another. `It's strange to think of my ancestors munching on these very same biscuits, tasting what I taste, feeling them crumble in the mouth like I do. The Manins had quite a shipping empire at one time. And my ... father ... he worked on the vaporetti. So I guess the sea is in the blood!
`It's in everyone's blood here. Your father ... is he still alive?'
'No. He died when I was very little. My mother took me back to England. So though I was born here you are right to call me English - it's what I am really.'
Alessandro shook his head. `No, you are a Venetian. Do you have any other family here?'
`I remember my mother saying my Italian grandparents are dead. And I think my father was an only child.' It was on the tip of Leonora's tongue to tell Alessandro about Corradino, but something stopped her. It was he, and not Bruno, to whom she felt the connection of family, but didn't know how to adequately explain that she felt far more curiosity about the long-dead glassblower than she did about her own father, the man who broke her mother's heart.
`It would be interesting to find out more about him - now you're here. Give you some history. I could ... help ... if you let me? I've got contacts through the Questura'
Leonora smiled. `Perhaps.'
But it's Corradino who calls to nie.
When the food arrived, it was indeed delicious. She ate heartily, but with nothing of the relish and