Sunday, July 11, 2010

Busy Wednesday and Mafiosi Cats

Last night was very busy after the mere three tables on Tuesday night. We watched the Spain Portugal World Cup match on Live streaming.

But last night I had told mio marito to rest and I’d call if we needed him. But first the Fortunato Wine family arrived with a party of 9 and sat outside. Then a table of 6 came and sat outside, six women, who then moved because the cats were prowling around – the ginger has given birth to 6 kittens. The tabby cat and another silvery one chase each other on the rails of the gazebo overhead, while the kittens scamper between flowerpots. Our clientele is divided between those who love them and those who don't want them nearby while eating. I would be in the second camp but it is so hard to get rid of them. We have put plastic bottles fo water everywhere - apprently tis serves to keep cats at bay - but today we found a large cat poo right next to one of the bottles on the windowsill - clear marking of territory. Mafioso cats.

Then another table of 5 arrived and sat inside, and a couple who installed themselves on the balcony – these last two tables wanted the birra bionda, which was finished, and the doppio malto which wasn’t working. It always seems to be such a problem when you say there is none. With all the bottled beers we have for God’s sake.

Then another foreign couple and a table of three girls. I got the Fortunatos happy with their orders and the young kids with their piadina and promises of interesting crepes for dessert – the mamma wanted a plain crepe and I said have the original French butter, sugar and lemon juice – and the cousin was surprised to hear they were originally French. Mamma delighted with the possibility.

Then the French couple wanted to know what the risotto was – I struggled to remember gamberi (prawns) in French, knowing it wasn’t like Spanish - gambas or the Italian. Crevettes popped into my head, and courgettes of course. She was pleased. They were from Paris, a sweet little couple exploring the island. They loved the fact that I could speak French. They have struggled to be understood, they said. I can imagine. It can be ahrd to find people who speak Italian here, with all the dialect around, never mind French or English!

The three girls at the next table outside who had some tapas and Garbugli di Venere and scampi had come all the way from Capo D’Orlando. Wonder how they heard about us. Also wonder how the French couple knew to come because they came struggling up the hill all out of breath and sweating when they arrived. The large table of 6 girls wanted 3 tapas di mare and 3 tapas di terra and seemed very happy with them. And the table of 5 who sat inside asked for the paella di pesce but asked could they add chicken to it. I said no, not possible, and they said but we had it before, and I said, I know, laughing, I was very angry when I found out. That is a tourist trick they do in Valencia, but the true Paella is either only fish or only meat. My certitude convinced them and they forgot about wanting to add chicken. They had one of each and were happy with both.

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