Italian for Beginners by Kristin Harmel

Author:Kristin Harmel [HARMEL, KRISTIN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC000000
ISBN: 9780446550666
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2009-08-09T04:00:00+00:00

That night, I was sitting in my apartment, rereading Tender Is the Night, my favorite Fitzgerald book, and feeling a little lonely, when there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Karina standing there with a plate of lasagna in her hand.

“I put Nico to bed,” she said. “And I thought maybe you had not eaten yet.” She held up the lasagna like a peace offering. I hesitated, but my stomach growled, giving me away. We both laughed.

“You’re right,” I said. “Thank you.”

She nodded and followed me into the apartment. Once inside, I hesitated, realizing that there was nowhere for both of us to sit together, unless we balanced on the edge of the bed. Karina must have noticed the same thing.

“Would you rather come down to my apartment?” she asked. “As long as we talk quietly, we won’t disturb Nico.”

I nodded, and together we walked downstairs.

Karina led me into the small dining room, which overlooked the street below from a pretty picture window framed in wispy curtains like the ones that covered the window over my bed. She opened the window, and a breeze wafted in, along with the faint noises of passersby talking on the street below.

“Before I was pregnant with Nico,” she said with a faraway look in her eye, “Massimo and I would sit at this window and smoke and watch the people on the street below go by. I felt like I knew everything that went on in this neighborhood, all the little secrets. But after Nico, well, I don’t sit at this window much anymore.”

Karina opened a bottle of chianti and poured us each a glass.

“Cin cin,” she said, clinking her glass against mine. I repeated the toast and we smiled at each other. We each took a sip, and I savored mine for a moment, feeling the wine warm my throat all the way down.

“Try the lasagna,” Karina said eagerly.

I dug my fork into the edge. I took a bite, and my eyes widened. It was truly the best lasagna I’d ever had. “Karina, this is amazing! Did this come from the restaurant?”

She shook her head. “No. I made it.”

I took another bite. Indeed, it was delectable. The marriage of parmesan, fresh tomato sauce, garlic, and basil was heavenly. And the layers of pasta were so thin and numerous, I felt almost as if I were eating a Greek baklava instead of a hearty Italian dish. “You made this?”

She nodded, a little bit of color rising to her cheeks. “It is not a big deal.”

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “It’s a huge deal! This is incredible!”

Karina was beaming. “It was nothing,” she said dismissively. “I just like to cook, you understand?”

I shook my head in astonishment. “You should be doing this professionally,” I said. “Like, at a five-star restaurant.”

She laughed. “I should be doing a lot of things,” she said. “But I have to support my son. I can’t afford to go to school to become certified as a chef to work at that level.

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