The Italian Affair (6 page)

“Oh my God look down there Dan. The sea is the most amazing shade of turquoise,” Issy cried as she turned her body backwards to catch a better view of what she’d just glimpsed through one of the many small open windows providing a glimpse into paradise.

Dan ran his fingers through his hair and laughed out loud. “I’m delighted you love it so much and agreed to share this joyous place with me. And we’ve finally arrived at Ravello” Dan said as they pulled into a little piazza at the top of the town, with an ancient looking church, a cafe and subliminal views. The remoteness, the exquisite smell of a Ravello summer and the perfect town square made it impossible not to just stand and stare. It was picture perfect.

As they both jumped off the Vespa Dan reached out for Issy’s hand and said. “Ok. Nice as this place is, before we take a closer look I want to take you to a special restaurant. It’s tucked away down one of the small side streets. Not many tourists go there, but it does some of the most amazing food I‘ve ever tasted” said Dan excitedly as he pulled her away from the view.

After walking quickly for a few minutes under a baking hot midday sun they found themselves inside a restaurant which looked from the frontage like a small rustic home, with a few wooden tables covered in checked table cloths next door to a butchers shop.

Rather surprisingly, given how tucked away it was, various walls of the restaurant were covered in black and white photos of famous people, signaling that they’d eaten here at some point in the past too.

“Oh look over there” Issy said “Jackie Onassis must have liked the food here. There’s a really big photo of her by the big table in the corner.”

“I know,” Dan interjected “a lot of cool people visited here in the past and still do apparently. They probably anchor their yachts and come here in blacked out cars because it’s so out of the way and they can eat without the paparazzi following them.”

As they were chatting, a large Italian woman came towards them giving Dan a big smile and two hand written menus, ushering them both quickly to one of the empty tables in the furthest corner of the room.

It was almost their own little private area, away from the other diners who were finishing their meals and drinking espressos.

As they sat down Dan said with an exaggerated flourish. “All the food here is fresh and the restaurant is run by Netta, the lady who just showed us to the table. She grows a lot of the vegetables and herbs herself round the back of the restaurant. She also bakes her own bread.”

“Oh God Dan,” Issy said as she looked at the menu. “I love everything about this place. What do you recommend? Everything looks like it’s going to taste exquisite?”

“That is the only problem with this place. What to choose! I recommend any dish on the menu,” enthused Dan scanning the specials of the day trying to weigh up what might taste best.

“Why don’t you choose for both of us?” asked Issy hungrily.

“OK,” replied Dan. “How about bruschetta cooked with Netta’s home grown roasted garlic drizzled with locally produced extra virgin olive oil and Sorrento tomatoes slightly dried in the sun for our antipasto?”

“Sounds great” said Issy trusting his judgement in food implicitly as her mouth watered. If he could find a place like this, she was sure he would know exactly what to order.

“And I think for primo we’ll have some seafood risotto – which is a local favourite and full of clams, mussels, squid and other fruits of the sea. And for secondo, I think we should go for the fresh catch of the day with a local green vegetable, all washed that down with a nice bottle of Greco di Tufo.”

“Is that a local wine?” asked Issy.

“Yes,” replied Dan “it’s local and very dry. The grape Greco di Tufo was originally cultivated on the slopes of Vesuvius but now grows in the small town of Tufo in the hills of Avellino.”

“I’ve never heard of Avellino. Is it on the coast?” Issy asked.

“Inland” replied Dan. “You must have heard of it. It’s where the creator of the Godfather Mario Puzo’s family came from. I have to tell you I’m obsessed with the Godfather, so Avellino is one of the places I intend to visit while I’m here.”

Dan’s excitement, was interrupted by Netta taking their lunch order and coming straight back over with a carafe of wine which she poured out directly into two large glass beakers.

Cradling the glass in his hand Dan continued. “The Costiera Amalfitana is spectacular, but a lot of the small towns around here are agricultural and very poor like Puzo’s village. If you go further south to Calabria, they are even poorer. So we are officially in Godfather territory and you have to be aware of the local Mafia. The Camorra,” Dan added dramatically.

“Um, but what does that mean exactly – are we in danger? What do you know about the Mafia and the Camorra I have to say it’s not something I really understand?” asked Issy her eyes widening.

“I don’t know anything really, other than what I read in Puzo’s book and I must have seen the Godfather hundreds of times. Whether that’s how it works in real life I don’t know. All I do know is that organised crime – if that’s the right word to describe it – exists in and around these parts.”

“Do you think it is dangerous for us living here then?” said Issy remembering some of the furtiveness she had felt as they’d driven through parts of Naples earlier that morning, particularly in the down-town quarters of the historic centre.

Dan thought about the question for a minute and then replied with a slight hesitancy. “No. Not for me and you I don’t think. It is all about organised crime so unless you’re personally involved in some way, by being born into one of the Mafia or Camorra families or get in their way then theoretically it shouldn’t affect either of us. Although, I’ve heard that there is a huge increase in Camorra activity in Naples at the moment and that it is virtually unstoppable.”

“How do you know if someone you meet has those connections?” Issy asked Dan leaning over the table intently.

“What Mafia connections you mean?” Dan replied sipping the chilled white wine.

“Yes,” Issy continued. “How will I know if I come across someone from the Mafia or the Camorra while I’m here?”

Dan laughed. “I guess you don’t. I once asked one of my students in Rome all about the Mafia, but I found they didn’t want to talk. Their refusal to speak just made me more interested. In the end we joked about it and things were said probably in jest.”

“Is the severed horse’s head just something that happens in films?” asked Issy now she had found her stride. “Or does it happen in real life still today as a warning if you get too close?”

The arrival of a bustling Netta and two plates of exquisite food interrupted the conversation. Charcoaled slices of home-made bread drizzled with extra virgin olive oil, small chunks of deep red succulent tomatoes topped high with roughly torn basil leaves and freshly ground black pepper were placed in front of them.

As the chilled aromatic wine washed down the first mouthfuls of food, Issy mentally compared what was on her plate with the food that would normally be served at home as a starter. The ingredients smelt and tasted so very different. There was an earthiness and vibrancy that suggested the bread was freshly baked and the rest of the ingredients just picked from a fertile and sun-drenched terrain.

“Oh my God how is it possible to have such a burst of flavours from such a straightforward plate of food?” enthused Issy as they both hungrily wolfed it down.

Dan smiled widely as he wiped the plate clean with the last bit of his bruschetta. “Wait until you taste the risotto. That will blow your entire sensory system darling” Dan said as he spied Netta hurtling towards them again this time with hand-painted ceramic dishes filled with risotto full of a variety of shell fish.

The salty smell that rose out of the dishes suggested that everything apart from the rice had come straight out of the sea. Before tasting the food, Dan pointed out the different sea fruits to Issy as he prodded his risotto. “Ok in here we have at the very least a combination of shrimps, clams, mussels and squid. Go on I can’t wait for you to taste it.”

As Issy took the first mouthful, a myriad of textures and flavours hit her palette all at once. The rich fresh fish oils mingled with the subtle undertones of roasted garlic, a hint of chilli and the freshest flat parsley leaves.

Her taste buds went into overdrive as they grappled with the distinctive combinations. So different from the meat and two vegetables she’d been brought up on at her childhood home in Harrogate and the stuffy dinners at Balliol College Oxford.

“This is exquisite” said Issy as she took one small break in between eating to guzzle some more Greco del Tufo.

Dan nodded in agreement and fortified by the food and the wine he returned to the subject of the Godfather. “Now we’re eating let’s get back to the topic of the Mafia,” Dan said. “If I were an investigative journalist, which I‘d very much like to be when I finally grow up, I’d have a field day going around interviewing people and getting to the bottom of things. I mean who are these people and why do they choose to live that kind of a life?”

“You wouldn’t mind the danger that would put you in?” Issy said opening a mussel and sucking the flesh straight from a sandy brown shell.

Dan thought for a moment. “I probably would. I hadn’t really thought about the practical side of things like getting killed. I like the intrigue of it all just like in the movies. You know a classic crime film with a lot of gangster glamour.”

“Maybe a lot of it is made up” said Issy. I read somewhere that Puzo admitted he’d written the book mainly for money?”

“I’m not too sure about that,” Dan said. “But what I do think is that all of what you see in the film happens in real life, it’s just those who know the truth around these parts are clearly not going to say anything as the Omerta – or the code of silence as it is known – enables it to go on unfettered” replied Dan.

“So if no-one talks,” Issy replied. “There won’t be anyone you can get more information from?”

Dan thought about Issy’s question for a minute. “The only clue I’ve been able to get my investigative mitts round so far, was from one of my very first students, who had a strange sense of humour at the best of times and was clearly trying to divert me off the scent. He said you could tell if someone is linked to the Mafia if they have a diamond in one of their front teeth. But I suspect he was probably just joking as he joked about most things.”

“What?” said Issy in disbelief as she wiped a piece of rice from the corner of her mouth with a crisp white linen napkin.

“I mean it’s clearly a myth” continued Dan. “But there you have it. It’s all the specific information I’ve ever been able to get hold of.”

They both took a sip of wine before grinning at each other. “Dan that is preposterous,” laughed Issy hugely enjoying Dan’s lunch time chit-chat. “I mean how can you remain incognito with a big sparkling stone in the front of your mouth. I’m not going to know what to do, if I have to talk to a Neapolitan with a diamond in their front teeth.”

“If you ever meet one,” Dan laughed. “I’d run as fast as you can. Unfortunately, much as I would like to be able to tell you that I’ve met a diamond geezer. I haven’t. Not yet anyway.”

“What do the Mafia actually get up to?” asked Issy, “I mean what is their day job?”

“I’m not sure it’s exclusively a day job,” Dan replied. “In terms of what they do it seems to be that they exhort protection money from people as a kind of insurance policy to get rich and exercise even more control over people. Oh and apparently, they also run business cartels. You’ve probably noticed the litter all over the city. That’s because it’s the Mafia who are running the refuse collection schemes and if councils and individuals don’t pay up their protection money they simply don’t collect it.”

“God,” said Issy “I wondered why there was so much rubbish everywhere. That’s terrible.”

“Yes. I guess” said Dan “but intriguing none-the-less. You never know, we may yet find out more while we’re here.”

Issy leant back in her chair and changed the subject momentarily as she savoured the after effects of the food she had just eaten. “Dan, this restaurant and everything about it is amazing. I’m not sure I can eat another thing. How on earth did you find this place?

Dan looked pleased she liked it so much. “You need to get off the beaten track to find the nougats of gold like this” he said proudly. “It’s not really on the tourist trail,” he continued. “I literally just stumbled across it. Not through drink I hasten to add but because I was looking in the butchers window next door and spotted rustic tables of families eating in what looked, at first, like someone’s front room. When I saw Jackie O’s picture on the wall that was it, I was in here demanding a nice little table for one. As soon as I entered the restaurant it was if I belonged. Netta greeted me as if I’d known her in a previous life. It’s the kind of service and food you want to find in a restaurant and when you find it you just keep coming back and you remember it.”

“I wonder how many times Jackie O and the rest of the famous people hanging from the white washed walls came here?” Issy asked looking at the black and white photos of beautiful famous people immortalised in time in Ravello. “It’s totally camouflaged and doesn’t even resemble a restaurant from the outside. I would have just walked past it.”

Dan leant back in his seat discreetly using a tooth pick to remove bits of fish and rice from between his teeth. “I think this restaurant, from what I can gather, is famous and known to a small group of elite people who want to eat amazing food but go unrecognised whilst doing it, including the Kennedy’s. One of my students in Rome tipped me off about Ravello and told me I should come here and told me about the restaurant. I’ve learnt that if an Italian loves somewhere it is normally amazing. Once I’d spent an afternoon here I was totally sold on it.”