Margherita's Notebook by Elisabetta Flumeri & Gabriella Giacometti

Author:Elisabetta Flumeri & Gabriella Giacometti
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Washington Square Press

This time, just like the last, when Margherita arrived at the villa, there was no one there waiting for her. But at least the gate and entrance door were open. It seemed as though the help had been trained to be as invisible as possible to avoid bothering the lord of the manor. And this made Margherita, who was used to her noisy menagerie, to Armando’s talkative presence, and Matteo and Italo’s frequent visits, feel slightly uncomfortable.

She entered the large kitchen, arranged the ingredients on the counter, and after writing the evening’s menu as she always did on the small blackboard, she got down to work. She hadn’t been able to resist the sea urchins at the fishmonger’s. She knew it was risky, but she wanted to put the flavor of the sea in her dishes. So as an entrée she’d decided to make a salad with sea urchins and lemons, accompanied by tiny bread rounds. This would be followed by shellfish couscous, sea bass smothered in oven-baked leeks, and to finish, a semifreddo with meringues, whipped cream, and hot chocolate sauce.

Margherita was busy preparing dinner when she heard a cheerful voice behind her: “So this is the famous chef!”

Margherita whirled around and found herself facing a man in his forties, not particularly handsome, but with an engaging smile and sparkling blue eyes. “I’m Enrico Rossi, Nicola’s business partner,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand, but then drawing it back amused when she showed him her own hands covered with flour.

“Oops . . . sorry, Miss . . . I should probably call you Margherita, seeing that you’re so young. No need to be so formal, don’t you agree?”

She smiled in spite of herself before such spontaneity.

“Margherita is fine,” she answered. “I agree, I hate formalities.”

At that moment, Carla appeared behind Enrico. As usual she was wrapped, actually squeezed, in a suit, this time a bright pickle green. She looked at Margherita with her customary condescension, without saying anything, just nodding, then turned to the guest. “Enrico, I’m sure you’ll want to go to your room to freshen up . . . Everything’s ready.”

“I don’t doubt that, knowing how efficient you are. But frankly, I’d rather stay here and keep this lovely creature company.”

Carla’s face clearly showed her disapproval. Margherita held back a smile.

“The truth is she doesn’t want anyone around while she prepares her delicacies.” The way she said it served only to confirm the nickname Margy had given her.

Enrico turned toward Margherita, smiling irresistibly. “Is that so? In that case I’ll get out of your way.”

To contradict Carla, but also because she enjoyed having such cheerful company in the kitchen, Margherita replied, “That’s usually true, but I can make an exception this time.”

Enrico turned to Carla and made the victory sign with his fingers.

“You see? It’s probably Nicola’s fault, with his habit of wanting to be in control of every single little thing! It’s a shame that’s also something most women find irresistible . . .”

Margherita laughed, but Carla wasn’t at all amused.

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