Pizza e Birra

Posted: September 11, 2013 in story over coffee

It was medium sized Italian restaurant on the sea side, beautifully built all with woods. Sellia Marina to be precised. I worked there, to be in charged for all the tables and being Chef’s assistant at the same time. Summer is peak season of the year. Hot and hard.

Putting on the table clothes. First layer colored beige. The second one over it colored white. The flower’s patterns on the top. Pay attention on the detail, don’t put it upside down. People notice. Yes they do. At least my boss’ wife does. One serviette, two glasses, big and small. One for the wine, the other for the water. Put them diagonally on the top right of the serviette. One big plate, the smaller one on top of it. A pair of forks are on the left, the knives on the right. The spoons in front of the plates, the biggest one is the most outside, two rows.

Table for two is eight, table for six is five. Table for family combined from two tables for two or mixed. Friday, Saturday and Sunday, all tables covered. Monday to Thursday only 3/4 of them covered.

Putting on all of them at 11:00 AM, putting off at 3:30 PM. Putting on again at 6:30 PM and putting all of them again at 1:00 AM. Put the used table clothes in the laudry bag, and putting the unused eating utensils back in the drawers. In between I helped the Chef in the kitchen, it always needed couple of seconds to understand what he ordered and to memorize all of the names. La pentolla, il cotello, pomodoro secco, il pesto. “Lava questi bene e poi li taglie piccoli piccoli!” I barely understood what he said, the words were crumbled and sometimes I only see him pinching the air when he is upset about something. Italian ways of speaking.
Back to the table, to see all of the things beautifully put on the table is quite entertaining. All the shiny glasses, the sweet fragrance of the table clothes combined with beautiful view of Mediterranean sea and the smell of salt water. When the sun starts setting in, you’ll be the witness of the sun plunged to the sea silently leaving the orange color in the sky, the birds were marching back home. The night crawled slowly and changing all into darkness where you hear the sound of the waves.
I was hoping to witness the romantic scene in that place. Because the place is right, the ambience is perfect. Proposing a girlfriend in beautiful dinner or at least to see couples French-kissing under the dim lights. Then a group of traditional musician came out playing an accordeon and singing some love songs. I barely hold my own tears on my own fantasy as I heard somebody calling me;
“Signorina… Una pizza margherita larga e quattro birre!”
(one large pizza margarita and four beers)
“avete bisogni altre cose?”
(you guys needs something else?)
“No”
“forse volete decidere dove sedete?”
(maybe you want to decide where to sit?)
“No, portiamo via”
(no, we take away)
“ah, va bene…”
(ah okay)
So that’s it, apparently no romantic scene, they don’t even bother to sit down and to see the tables or our high class South Italian menu.
image

My fantasy was vanished into the smoke of pizza making. Vanished with all the new vocabularies that I just learned in the morning. Vanished with the words ; Pizza e Birra e basta! (pizza and beer and that’s it!)

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