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“Good,” said Nonna, nodding with approval.
As Nonna prepared her sandwich Ant did a little shopping. She gathered up some eggs. Some farm fresh, cage free, pasture raised eggs that Nonna’s stocked whenever they were available. She also got some bread along with a hunk of that fresh mozzarella, a chunk of Parmigiana, a bunch of organic spinach, a small bottle of the best olive oil she could find, some nice pancetta and a half a pound of imported Prosciutto di Parma sliced so thin you could just about see through it.
The man, who Ant now pegged to be Nonna’s long time husband (Mr Nonna?), rang her up and put the groceries in a large paper bag which he then placed carefully inside a plastic one, making it easier to carry.
“Here you go honey.”
At the end of the counter was a short shelf with a couple of wooden stools in front. Nonna gestured to Ant to come sit and then she placed the sandwich down. Oil and vinegar mixed with salt and spices dribbled out the sides and soaked into the paper plate. Nonna touched Ant gently on the shoulder. “Eat,” she said.
Ant took a bite. It was fantastic. The salted meats, the milky cheese, the roundness of the oil cut with the bite of the vinegar and the sweet fresh veggieness of the garlicky roasted peppers all on that fresh baked, lightly seeded semolina bread. It was perfect.
“You like?”
“It’s amazing,” said Ant. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome sweetie.”
Ant took another bite as Nonna went back to work. It truly was one of the best things she’d had to eat in a while. Not that there was much competition lately. Her mom really wasn’t much of a cook and her hometown didn’t really have a lot of stand out options in it.
There was mostly fast food and a whole lot of cheesesteaks. And she’d already had her fill of cheesesteaks. This sandwich was sublime. It was just what she needed to put a smile on her face, and avoid the possibility of fainting face first onto the hot summer sidewalk outside.
As the stress of the morning began melting away and her blood sugar began to return to more reasonable pre-starvation levels, Ant sighed contentedly. Then her phone rang.
“Where are you?!” Her mom was frantic. As if something sinister had happened.
“I’m right outside.”
“Doing what? ”
“Nothing,” Ant said. But it didn't sound like nothing. It sounded like someone speaking with a mouth full of sopresatta sandwich.
“Are you eating?”
“No,” said Ant, choking down the last bite.
“Well, come back right now. We have to get home.”
“Okay.”
Ant hung up the phone and finished the sandwich. The last bite was easily as good as the first. Which is no small feat. She said goodbye to the owners and hustled out the door. Her mom was waiting outside for her.
“Where were you?”
“That store behind us,” Ant said, holding up the bag. “I picked up a few things.”
“What’s that on your face?”
“What?”
“That,” said her mom as she pointed to the spot of oregano infused olive oil just below Ant’s lower lip.
Ant wiped it away. She got a small taste of it as she did so she knew exactly what it was. “I dunno,” she said. “Should we go?”
Once they were home Mrs Cap realized how late it was. “Oh my goodness!”
“What?”
“I’ve got to get this place ready.”
