The California Immigrant

by Barbara Anne King

  When he got to the girl’s table, she turned toward him and her face almost took his breath away. She really was an angel. She had big crystalline blue eyes fringed with dark lashes that were in stark contrast to her pale, almost white skin. Her high cheekbones, Greek nose, and bow lips all contributed to her extraordinary beauty. Martin couldn’t take his eyes off her. Finally, the father interrupted to introduce himself. “I am Karlo Bakovich, and this is my wife, Pauline, and my daughter Lena. You really know how to cook fish, and I should know because I’m a fisherman.”

  “Thank you for the compliment. And what a coincidence. My father, too, is a fisherman.”

  “Then why are you not fishing?” Karlo asked. He was a big, forceful-looking man, with wavy, gray hair and dark brown eyes that bore down on whoever he had his sight on.

  “My Uncle Anton had a restaurant in San Francisco where I learned to cook so I could open my own restaurant and be my own boss.”

  “Well, you certainly know fish. You can be assured that I will be here often and spread the word. Finally, we have a good Croatian restaurant in town.”

  Martin wished he could speak with Lena, but her father just kept talking on and on and on. Even the mother stayed silent. Finally, Martin excused himself to go back to the kitchen, but at least he now knew her name. He would ask Michael about her. He’d be sure to have information.

  The next day, Michael came by for lunch. After he was served, Martin stopped by his table to ask about Lena. “Yes, I know her. She has three sisters, all married to apple men. If you come to the Slavonic Society tomorrow, they are sure to be there, and I’ll introduce you properly.”

  Martin could think of little else while he cooked endless dinners on Saturday night. He was amazed that he didn’t make one mistake since he had trouble concentrating on his cooking. When the dinner hour was over, he was exhausted and couldn’t wait to put his head down to sleep. Meantime, while he and Liu cleaned up and prepared for next week, Hong got out his abacus and added up the receipts for the night. Martin was astounded when he gave him the results. “You made a good profit tonight as well as for the entire week. It won’t be long before you are looking for a bigger restaurant. At this rate, you are going to get rich quick.”

  Martin smiled. It was a good way to end the week of hard labor. But an even better end will be tomorrow when I have a chance to see Lena again. Then he locked up the restaurant and went home to rest and dream of his future.

  Chapter 20

  On Sunday morning, Martin got up and dressed for church, putting on the only suit he had, the ill-fitting one he had brought with him from the old country. He took one look at himself in the mirror and vowed to buy a new suit with the profits he had just made. But for now he had to make do so he just wouldn’t think about it. He’d think about Lena instead.

  Martin was renting a room at a boarding house on Main Street, which was only a couple of blocks from St. Patrick’s Catholic Church. The fog had started to clear, allowing a bit of sunshine to peek through, filling the day with its warmth. St. Patrick’s, an English Gothic-style church, had been built only a few years before in 1902. Its crowning glory was the spire rising over a hundred feet above the roof, topped with a bronze cross. That Christian symbol could be seen for miles on a clear day. Unfortunately, today was not one of those days but since Martin was only a short distance away, he had a good view of the cross to guide him.

  Martin entered the church through its front doors, climbing numerous steps to do so. Stairs did not daunt him after growing up in Dubrovnik where several hundred steps would be climbed just going about your business in a day. The congregants were just beginning to fills the pews so Martin had his pick of a place and chose to sit on the aisle near the back where he could watch everything and perhaps spot Lena. Right before Mass began, he saw Lena and her parents enter by the side door and take a seat up front. They were all dressed for the occasion. Karlo wore a dark suit and tie, Lena had her shoulders covered in a white shawl and a small pill box hat on her head, Pauline, who could almost match Karlo in girth, wore a wide-brimmed straw hat that shaded her handsome face but not her smile.

  After Mass was over, Martin lingered on the steps hoping for a chance to greet the Bakovichs. But they must have made a quick exit through the side door. He had no other choice then to head to the Slavonic Society and hope they showed up.

  Michael was already there when he arrived, looking very dapper in a sharkskin suit and a brightly colored paisley tie. Martin felt shabby standing next to him and hoped this would not hurt his chances with Lena, remembering Mark Twain’s words: “Clothes make the man.” Purchasing a new suit would be his next priority. “Have the Bakovichs come in yet?” Martin asked Michael.

  “If you’re asking me if Lena has arrived, the answer is no. But I have seen a couple of her sisters with their husbands.”

  “Can you point them out so I know who they are?”

  “That’s them in the far corner. One is wearing a green dress; the other has on purple. Both are blondes like Lena as well as the fourth sister.”

  “Are they as pretty as Lena is?”

  “I don’t know—you can judge for yourself.”

  At that moment, Lena walked into the room with her parents. She was wearing a blue dress that made her eyes flash even bluer. Even her hair looked blonder. “Come with me, Michael, to say hello.”

  The pair walked over to the far corner of the room where Lena had already joined her sisters. Michael introduced Martin to everyone. Karlo said to his family, “He is the best fish cooker I have ever known.”

  “You’ll have to bring some of your fresh catch to him to cook for you,” said Danica, one of the daughters, also a blue-eyed blonde, taller than Lena but not as pretty.

  “I’d like to cook one for you under a bed of salt. That’s the best way to ensure the fish is fresh and succulent.”

  “Next time I get a sea bass, I’ll bring it right to you. What a feast it will be.”

  Martin knew from previous experience that Karlo was a talker. He didn’t want to get caught in his web all afternoon. Just as that thought occurred to him, a kolo started up so Martin extended his hand to Lena to join him. She was a good dancer—light on her feet—and when she danced she radiated pure joy. Martin had not danced a kolo with anyone since Nevenka. But now he could feel the old pleasure return as the last vestiges of his grief were released and replaced by this new love.

  Martin continued to make the Slavonic Society his Sunday ritual. And he was always rewarded by Lena’s presence there with her family. After watching his daughter and Martin together for several weeks, Karlo said, “Next Sunday I would like to invite you to dinner. But I have one condition…you cook seafood risotto…I will supply the fish.”

  So, the next Sunday Martin found himself in Pauline’s kitchen, which had everything he needed to prepare his course. As he added the fish—shrimp, mussels, cod, squid and sardines—he took a whiff of the fresh smell of the sea. He missed going out on the fishing boat with his father and gathering the sea’s bounty in the net, which would not only put food on their table but make money from the surplus that could be sold to Tony’s shop. One day, he would ask Karlo if he could go out on his boat. He would like to witness what type of skill he had as a fisherman and what techniques were used in the new world. More importantly, he would love to spend the day on the sea again. Marino was his given name—it means man of the sea. He changed his name to Martin when he immigrated to sound more American. But in his heart, he would always be Marino.

  The family was all gathered around the big oak table when Martin brought out his first course. The serving bowl was hot so he held it with kitchen towels while he went around the table offering it to each one. He served himself last before placing the remaining risotto on the table near the center where it could easily be reached by all. Martin waited for everyone to take a spoonful before he began. As he hoped, words of praise began to be heard from every corner of the table. Karlo’s words were e
specially meaningful. “My fish have never tasted better. Martin, you are a master. Truly you work wonders with seafood.” Then he reached for the serving bowl and took another heaping spoonful. “Would anyone like more?” But the family knew Karlo’s big appetite was expecting to finish what remained.

  When the second course arrived, a leg of lamb surrounded by roast vegetables, talk turned to apples since the three sons-in-law were present. Filip, a big, brawny Dalmatian from the isle of Brac was married to the eldest sister Danica. He and his family had immigrated to Watsonville in the late 1880s, and after working as a farmhand, his father had purchased acreage to start his own apple orchard. They grew the Bellflower and Newtown Pippin varieties, which were most commonly grown in Watsonville. “We had two and a half million boxes of apples this year,” Filip said. “And shipped more apples than anyone else in the world.”

  “That’s right,” said Henrik, Morana’s husband, another Dalmatian. “We think it’s time to have a celebration—our own Apple Annual like Spokane has.”

  “When do you plan to hold it?” asked Pauline.

  “Next October, before the harvest is finished. It is going to be a big event with entertainment and even a parade,” said Henrik.

  “It is going to attract a huge crowd since we’ll be promoting the Apple Annual at the state fair and in San Francisco at the Ferry Building,” said Josip, Nikola’s husband.

  Not to be left entirely out of the conversation, Martin added, “Promoting the event in San Francisco is a good idea. There are so many Croatians living there that they are sure to come to share in the success of their countrymen. I will personally extend some invitations, especially to my Uncle Anton and his family.”

  As Martin prepared to leave, the men made a point to shake his hand and the women gave him kisses on both cheeks. But when Lena kissed his cheeks, he could feel a blush rising to his forehead. Looking down into her face, he saw a similar flush covering her cheeks, and knew she had strong feelings for him.

  On his way home, Martin reflected back on the evening and thought it went well. Certainly, everyone liked his seafood risotto. And he enjoyed getting to know Lena’s family better. Her brothers-in-law were certainly hard working businessmen who were gaining much success. He wondered if he would ever be able to compete with them. Lena may not want to be the poor relative. Nor would her parents want her to be.

  These thoughts worried him. Maybe I should sell my restaurant and go into the apple business where the big money seems to be right now. But he knew his heart was in being what he was—a chef. It was both creative and rewarding when he saw how his cooking could please people. Not to mention, he was a man of the sea. If not fishing, than cooking fish was his destiny. He could think of no better way to spend his time making a living. Uncle Anton obtained great joy out of his profession as a chef. And he also appreciated the opportunity to extend hospitality to his guests, some of whom had no one to share a meal with. During the holiday season, especially, he brought good cheer to those who could not be with their own families to celebrate. I want to follow in his footsteps.

  The Slavonic Society was becoming a ritual where Martin met up with Lena and her family. He now knew she was the girl for him, and he thought she felt the same about him, although words to that effect had not yet been exchanged. Before he proposed to her, Martin wanted to make sure he was in the best possible position to be accepted. He was already a restaurant owner but did not yet make as substantial a living as he imagined Lena’s brothers-in-law did from their apple crops. He needed to do something more.

  Then an idea occurred to him. The town needed a grocery store like the one Paul had started in the city, now being managed by Vlad and Katarina. The town had places to buy vegetables and fish and meat and even a small variety grocery store but nothing on the level of Paul’s. The more he thought about opening a grocery store the better he liked the idea. It was a natural pairing with a restaurant, which might even give him better margins on the food he purchased for it. And he knew he could get help from Vlad and Katarina especially since he would not be a competitor. They might even be able to go in on purchases together, helping to improve profits.

  Martin was very excited as he pondered this new venture. Soon it would be Christmas when he would close the restaurant and spend the week with the family in San Francisco. That would give him an opportunity to run the idea by Uncle Anton and Vlad as well as thoroughly research their grocery operation. Maybe he would even spend a few days helping out so he could really learn the ins and outs of the grocery business.

  The Sunday before Christmas, Martin spent the day with Lena at her home and stayed for dinner. It was too early for the house to be decorated for Christmas, but Pauline was preparing a special holiday dinner in his honor since he would be away between Christmas and New Year’s. She had made a suckling pig, which instead of having a stuffing was surrounded by apples, sweet potatoes, Brussels sprouts, and a variety of other vegetables. After dinner was over Karlo called for the sljivovica and made a toast. “To a happy holiday season. May you receive all of our Lord’s blessings.” Then he tipped his glass and swallowed the liquor in one gulp, letting out a satisfying sigh. The brothers-in-laws followed suit, cueing Martin to do the same. He was now fortified for the walk home.

  On Christmas Eve, Martin looked up and was surprised to see Lena’s entire family entering the restaurant. Filip, Henrik, and Josip took turns with their families and this year it was the Bakovichs’ turn. No one had ever spent a holiday in a restaurant before so this was a new experience but Karlo was insistent that they do it this year. Martin had the restaurant decorated in a festive way with a tree in one corner and candles surrounded by greens and holly on the tables. After they were all seated, Hong came over to hand them menus but Karlo waved him off. “I’ll do all the ordering. Let’s start with the fried fish appetizers and make sure you have enough bakalar en brodo to go around.”

  Hong went right back to the kitchen to have a word with Martin. He took one look at the cod stew simmering on the stove and said to Hong, “Don’t sell any more. I’m not sure even this will stretch for their appetites.”

  “Let’s go heavy on the appetizers,” said Liu. “And, of course, let’s not spare the bread.”

  “Perhaps, we should also make a couple of extra special tasting dishes to help fill them up.”

  “A big salad would help, too.”

  “Liu, as soon as you have a minute I want you to start preparing the batter for fritule. This dinner must end on the right note.”

  Lena and her family lingered, waiting for the other diners to clear out. When Martin came over to wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Karlo signaled him to sit down and then pulled out a bottle of sljivovica from under the table. Hong did not need to be asked to bring out the liquor glasses since he had them on the table almost as soon as the top was off the liquor bottle. “Let’s toast to the New Year,” said Karlo. “May it bring all of us much happiness.” He glanced from Martin to Lena before taking his shot. The liquor brought a smile to his face as Liu appeared with the fritule. He had made a double batch of batter but could not keep up with the demand of the sweet tooth’s the family had that evening.

  Martin bid everyone goodbye, saving two kisses on the cheeks for Lena. As he did so, he whispered in her ear, “Let’s make a date for New Year’s Eve. I will be back and have a surprise for you.”

  Chapter 21

  On Christmas morning, Martin took the early train to San Francisco since he had attended the midnight Mass that covered his Holy Day obligation. When he got off the train, he was near the wharf and decided to walk by Paul’s grocery store so he could peer in the window to get another look at how everything was organized. He was impressed. Under Vlad and Katarina’s management, the store layout was better than ever. He especially liked the produce section, which had a market feel to it, with wide aisles and an oval counter in the center, featuring the best of everything. Martin closed his eyes, imagining the store he would open so
on, patterned after this one.

  He continued to walk to the townhouse the family had moved back into a few months ago and noticed the city was being rebuilt even quicker than he had expected. But there were still large swaths of empty lots filled with rubble and debris. Martin’s path took him by his uncle’s restaurant, The Adriatic Coast Cafe, which had been completely restored. He put his face up to the window and looked in. Everything had been returned to its former arrangement. But then it hadn’t been damaged too badly.

  Finally, Martin reached the townhouse and climbed the steps, knocking on the door with the brass anchor. He heard quick steps in the entrance hall, and then Aunt Mirna stood before him, welcoming him in with kisses. Uncle Anton appeared even before Martin set foot in the entrance hall. “We are so happy you could join us for the holidays. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  Anton and Mirna escorted Martin into the living room where the others were waiting. The Christmas tree stood in its traditional place in front of the bay window, blazing with candlelight and showcasing the old-world ornaments that survived the earthquake. While he was taking in this heartwarming scene, he heard a little squeal and turned—it was Pauli squirming out of Katarina’s lap. When his feet touched the ground, he ran toward Martin and hugged his knees. Pauli was about two and a half years old now, walking and also talking, although Martin found it difficult to understand what he was saying.

  “Sit down, Martin. Make yourself comfortable,” said Uncle Anton. “Dinner is not yet ready so we will have cocktails first.” But before he sat down, he went back to his suitcase to retrieve the gifts he had brought. Then he went around to everyone and gave them a present as he wished them Merry Christmas. He saved the best for last. Pauli could barely contain himself as he tore into the wrapping, opened the box, and pulled out a toy train with a little track. “Let me show you how this works,” said Martin as he set up the track and then pulled the tiny train around on it.