by B R Snow
Marco paused to take another sip of coffee. Then he pointed to the other side of the kitchen.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said. “Help yourself to coffee and snacks. The cake is called Ciambella, a citrus sponge cake we often serve at breakfast. We’ll be doing a day of desserts later on in the week, and you’ll get the recipe for the cake as well as several others.” Marco laughed and glanced at Josie who was caught red-handed swallowing her final bite.
“What?” Josie deadpanned.
“From the look of things, it looks like some of you have already tried it.”
“Well, it was just sitting there, and I figured it had to be for us, right?”
“Of course,” Marco said, glancing at Chef Claire who continued to shake her head at the cake thief. “How is it?”
“Fantastic,” Josie said.
“Help yourself,” Marco said.
“Don’t encourage her,” Chef Claire said.
“Shut it.”
“Okay,” Marco said, grinning at Josie. “A healthy appetite. That’s what we love to see around here.” He addressed the group. “Generally, each day starts with a demonstration then you’ll get a chance to try it out. After we turn you loose, Rosa and I will be coming around to help out if needed and make sure you’re on the right track.” He glanced around then smiled and clapped his hands once. “Okay, let’s make some pasta.”
Marco moved to the center of the island and made sure everyone could see him clearly.
“Don’t worry about taking notes,” he said. “Everything we’ll be covering this week is outlined in the binders sitting on the table near the door. Remember to take one with you before you leave today.” He sifted two cups of flour onto the work surface then pulled it into a pile.
“First, we need to talk a bit about flour. In Italy, there are three basic types of flour classified as either one, zero, or double-zero. The number designates the coarseness of the grind. Semolina flour is a coarse grind, all-purpose flour carries the zero designation, and double-zero is finely milled and produces a smooth-texture pasta. We could talk about flour all day, but you’d be bored to death. In your class materials, you’ll find a section covering flour in detail. And for those of you so afflicted, it’s a great cure for insomnia. For this demonstration, I’m using a 50/50 blend of semolina and all-purpose. But as you get comfortable making your own pasta, feel free to experiment.”
Marco paused to look around and make sure there were no questions.
“Okay, let’s continue. I like to sift my flour,” Marco said. “Other people prefer not to. It’s your choice. As soon as you have the flour ready, make a well in the center. Next, crack two eggs into the well and add a pinch of salt.”
He stood back and made sure everyone got a good look at what he’d created.
“There you have it,” Marco said.
“That’s it?” Emerson Kingsley said, frowning.
“I thought he was playing golf today,” Josie whispered.
“I think he got rained out,” Chef Claire said.
“Yes, Emerson,” Marco said. “As far as the ingredients go. All we need to do is mix them together until we get a nice ball of pasta dough.”
“I can’t believe it,” Emerson said, turning to his wife. “If that’s all there is to it, why the heck am I paying thirty bucks for spaghetti and meatballs at Salvador?”
“You’re paying for the ambiance, Emerson,” Bronwyn said.
“Ambiance? Maybe if you cooked once in a while at home, we wouldn’t have to worry about going out to find ambiance.”
“That’s why we’re here, Emerson,” Bronwyn said, her voice rising in pitch.
“Let’s continue,” Marco said. “A few things to remember. Always use fresh eggs at room temperature. And when it comes to kneading the dough, a rough surface like this wooden one works better than the marble or polished granite ones I’m sure several of you have at home. A rough surface helps the dough come together easier. If you don’t already have one, you might want to pick up a large wooden cutting board to use.”
Marco began working his fingers through the flour and egg mixture.
“This is definitely a hands-on process so don’t be shy about working with the dough. I’m going to make the dough on top of the surface. I want to be sure everyone can see exactly what I’m doing. And since I’ve done this more times than I can remember, I’m not worried about making a mess. But if this your first time making pasta from scratch, I suggest you use a bowl during this stage. If you don’t, there’s a good chance you’ll end up with flour and eggs all over the place. So, use a bowl until you feel comfortable working on the countertop. Trust me on this one.”
Everyone laughed.
“Using your fingers, mix the eggs with the flour. Take your time to incorporate the eggs and flour a little at a time. When everything is combined, you’re ready to start kneading. And if you’re using a bowl, take it out at this point and work on the counter. You’re going to be kneading with your hands for about ten minutes. This is the most difficult part of the process, but it’s essential to make sure you get the right consistency. If the dough is hard, there’s probably too much flour. Add a splash of water, and it should solve the problem. If it’s sticky and soft, add a bit of flour. The flour and the eggs must be fully incorporated and the only way to ensure it is by kneading. So, stay focused on your work. I’ll be walking around to help you out if you need it.”
“My mama uses a bit of oil when she makes pasta,” Donato said in halting English.
“Thanks for mentioning that, Donato,” Marco said. “If you’re looking for more elasticity, you can add a splash of oil to the dough, but no more than a teaspoon for this recipe. And I should also point out the dough recipe we’re working with today serves four.”
“Not a chance,” Josie whispered.
“Shhh. No talking in class,” Chef Claire said.
They watched in silence for the next several minutes as Marco kneaded the dough. When he was happy with it, he passed it around.
“Try to get a feel for the dough. This is what you’re looking for,” Marco said, then waited until the ball of dough made its way back to him. “Now, we cover it with cling film and let the dough rest for about half an hour in a warm place. Or you can use a hand towel if you like.”
“What about adding color or additional flavor to the pasta?” Betty Smithsonian said.
“We’ll be doing that this afternoon, Betty,” Marco said. “But to answer your question, if you’re adding spices or herbs, or a vegetable like spinach, you do it during the kneading process.” He smiled at her then addressed the group. “Okay, your turn. Pair off and use any of the workstations around the kitchen. If you have a question, just let me know.”
“Which workstation do you want to use?” Chef Claire said.
“Let’s grab the one closest to the cake,” Josie said, pointing.
“Of course. What a dumb question,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head as she followed Josie across the kitchen.
“Okay, two cups of flour, two eggs and a pinch of salt,” Josie said, grabbing a measuring cup. “Sounds easy enough.”
“Aren’t you going to use a bowl?” Chef Claire said.
“No,” Josie said. “Are you?”
“I’ve been making pasta for years,” Chef Claire said as she began sifting flour onto the workstation. “But this is your first time.”
“It is. But how hard can it be?”
Josie cracked two eggs into the well she had created in the flour and got to work. Chef Claire also began working but kept one eye on Josie who had already managed to knock down one side of the flour mound. Egg began streaming onto the workstation in different directions.
“Crap,” Josie whispered.
“Problem?”
“Not at all. Just a little leakage. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Josie pulled the flour and egg back into more or less a pile and began working her fingers through it. Then she stopped and squ
inted before placing her hand over her mouth to stifle a sneeze.
“Geez,” Josie said, reacting to the substance now covering her mouth and chin. “It wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
“You might want to start over,” Chef Claire said, grabbing a dish towel and wiping the flour and egg off Josie’s face.
“Good call,” Josie said, taking the dish towel from Chef Claire.
They both glanced across the kitchen when they heard two voices getting louder. Emerson and Bronwyn Kingsley were in the middle of a heated conversation that didn’t appear to be pasta related.
“Did you see what brought that on?” Josie said.
“I caught Bronwyn and Georgio exchanging a few haunting glances a minute ago,” Chef Claire said. “It looks like Emerson did too.”
“Do you think Natalie is the jealous type?” Josie said.
“I don’t know. But given her background, I sure wouldn’t be messing around with her boyfriend.”
“The whole situation is weird,” Josie said, depositing the remnants of her failed attempt in the trash. “And there’s something strange about the inventor dude.”
“Yeah, he kind of gives me the creeps,” Chef Claire whispered. “You think he might be a spy like Natalie?”
“I suppose he could be,” Josie said, building a fresh pile of flour on the workstation. “But he seems more like the kind of guy a spy like Natalie would be keeping an eye on.”
“Now, there’s an interesting theory,” Chef Claire said as she began kneading her dough.
“Are you done incorporating already?” Josie said, reaching for an egg.
“I am. It’s flour and two eggs,” Chef Claire said. “It’s not like we’re making a five-course meal.”
“Well, aren’t you the teacher’s pet,” Josie deadpanned.
She was about to crack the egg when she sneezed loudly, scattering the pile of flour in several directions, one of which was all over her face and hair. Chef Claire took one look at her and burst into laughter. The rest of the group glanced over and broke into grins.
“Now I don’t feel so bad,” Betty Smithsonian said, her blouse covered in flour. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Josie said, again wiping her face with the dishtowel. She tossed the towel to one side then reached for the slice of Ciambella sitting on the workstation. She proceeded to drop the cake on the floor. Reaching down immediately, she snatched it off the floor and broke off a piece and popped it in her mouth.
“Are you out of your mind?” Chef Claire said.
“What?”
“You’re going to eat it after it has been on the floor?”
“Three-second rule,” Josie said, breaking off another piece and stuffing it into her mouth. “Besides, take a look around. This floor is clean enough to eat off.”
“Which you’ve just proven,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head as she went back to her kneading.
“You really get into your work, Josie,” Marco said as he approached.
“Funny, Marco,” she said, working her fingers through the mixture.
“Promise to be careful when we start working with knives,” he said, laughing.
“I’m a whiz with knives, Marco. No worries there.”
Chef Claire nodded in agreement.
“You should see her slice garlic with a scalpel.”
Another outburst from the other side of the kitchen broke out. This time it was Emerson and Georgio who were exchanging words.
“Here we go,” Marco said, shaking his head.
“You and Rosa were talking last night about how you didn’t want a repeat performance out of Georgio,” Chef Claire said.
“Yes, the last time he was here, he got…let’s call it, close to one of the students,” Marco said.
“I assume her husband didn’t take it well?” Josie said.
“Fiancé,” Marco said. “And no, he didn’t take it well at all.”
“Ouch,” Chef Claire said. “What happened?”
“Georgio talked his way out of it,” Marco said. “And then he left the villa early.”
“Why do you let him keep coming back?” Chef Claire said.
Marco took a deep breath and exhaled audibly.
“Because he’s an investor in the place,” Marco said. “And we also get a cut of every kitchen gadget he comes up with. But his womanizing can be a problem.”
Emerson Kingsley tossed an impressive string of expletives at his wife, and the inventor then stormed out of the kitchen. The rest of the group, embarrassed by the scene, focused on their work and kneaded like there was no tomorrow.
“I think I’ve finally got it,” Josie said, holding up her ball of dough.
Marco accepted the dough from her, gently pressed it with his fingers and nodded.
“Very good,” Marco said with a grin. “It’s a lot easier when the dough stays on the table and out of your hair.”
“You didn’t tell me he was a comedian, Chef Claire,” Josie said, making a face at Marco.
“You’ll get used to me,” he said. “Okay, wrap your dough and let it rest.” He turned to address the group. “We’ll take our morning break now. Please be back in a half-hour, and we’ll roll the dough. And this afternoon, I’ll show you three simple sauces. Then you’ll each be making a dish you want to serve at dinner tonight.”
The class began filing out as Chef Claire topped off her coffee.
“Can we do the interview now, Marco?”
“Oh, right,” he said, nodding. “For your food blog. Sure. We can use my office.”
“Are your dogs around?” Josie said.
“They’re probably in the living room,” Marco said. “They like to hang out by the fireplace when it’s raining.”
“I’ll see you in a bit,” Josie said, giving them a finger wave as she left the kitchen.
Chapter 6
As promised, Josie found all four Goldens in the living room, and they hopped to their feet as soon as she entered. She sat down on the floor, and they draped themselves over her. Josie glanced up when she heard the sound of someone walking into the room.
“Oh, hi, Bronwyn.”
“You certainly love dogs, don’t you?” she said, sitting down on one of the couches.
“Yeah, guilty as charged,” Josie said, climbing to her feet and sitting down across from her. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, shrugging. “I knew it was a mistake to bring Emerson along on the trip.
One of the Goldens trotted over to Bronwyn, and she tentatively petted the dog’s head.
“I’m not much of a dog person,” she said. “But these are very gentle.”
“They’re one of my favorite breeds,” Josie said. “But I love them all.”
“You must have dogs at home.”
“We do. Seventy-six at last count.”
“I beg your pardon?” Bronwyn said, raising an eyebrow.
“We run an inn for dogs,” Josie said. “You know, veterinary services, groom and board, obedience classes, a big rescue program. If it’s dog-related, we pretty much do it. Did Emerson leave?”
“The rain has stopped so he’s going golfing.”
“It’s none of my business, but he seemed upset.”
“He’s convinced Georgio and I are still an item,” she said, flinching briefly when one of the Goldens hopped up on the couch and dropped its head in her lap. “Well, aren’t you friendly?”
Josie gave her a blank stare. Eventually, Bronwyn continued.
“I used to date, Georgio,” she said with a shrug.
“And you came here with your husband knowing your ex-boyfriend was going to be here?”
“I didn’t know Georgio was going to be here,” she said, stroking the dog’s head. “Are all Golden Retrievers like this?”
“Pretty much,” Josie said. “And Golden puppies will make your heart melt.”
Bronwyn nodded as if considering getting one.
“I told
Georgio we were coming here,” she said. “But I had no idea he’d show up.”
“Marco said he’s one of his investors,” Josie said.
“He is. And Emerson is thinking about throwing some money in. From what I hear, the winery is struggling.”
“Complicated situation.”
“It can be,” she said. “I actually met Emerson during the time I was dating Georgio. He was doing some work with Emerson’s company, and we went to a party at his house one night. When I met Emerson, things took off from there.”
“You dumped Georgio for Emerson?” Josie said, treading carefully.
“Pretty much. Georgio had already proven himself incapable of being faithful, so I knew there wasn’t much of a future with him. And Emerson was different back then.”
“But still very rich, right?” Josie said.
“Scary rich,” Bronwyn said, nodding. “And that played a big part. But it wasn’t all of it.” She shook her head and glanced at Josie. “It sounded like I was trying to convince myself, not you, didn’t it?”
“Maybe a little,” Josie said, making room for another of the Goldens on the couch. “How did Georgio take it when you ended the relationship?”
“One thing I’ve learned about Georgio over the years is the way to get his undivided attention is by telling him he can’t have something.”
“I know people like that,” Josie said, nodding. “And as soon as they get what they want, they lose interest.”
“Exactly,” Bronwyn said. “I couldn’t believe it when he showed up with the Russian woman. What a weirdo she is.”
“Natalie’s okay,” Josie said. “We met her in Vegas a few months ago. She just takes some getting used to.”
“I have no intention of getting used to her,” she said. “Do you know what she does for work?”
“Actually, I do,” Josie said, frowning. “But I’m not sure I should talk about it.”
“Ooh, I smell a secret,” Bronwyn said. “Well, with her personality, I know she’s not a hooker.”
“No, she’s not,” Josie said, laughing. “Let’s say she spent several years working for the government and leave it there.”