the company makes it

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March 24th

Thursday morning 9:45am. Mercato Centrale. Klajd finds his way past the meat counters with whole chickens, cow intestines, bull tongue, all ready to be bought, boiled, grilled, herbed and eaten. We walk past the bread vendors and stacks of dried mushrooms, peppers, herbs and olives. He comes to the fish area and after dismissing several bags of mussels, decides on one vendor’s wares….this is the bag of mussels, after one sample is delicately sliced opened and sniffed, that he buys.

My kitchen grew warm and the oven was soon converting salty water filled shells into mouth watering mussels lightly covered in olive oil and fresh basil and dusted with a light layer of bread crumbs. I was given a lesson in how to insert the tip of the knife and carefully slice open the mussel without slicing my hand. The ones filled with salty water began the most succulent. Some shells would begin opening as they rested in the sack in my sink, and with a sprinkling of water the entire lot of barnacle crusted, black and blue mussels would stir, alive, and close tightly their shell mouths…that is, until the mighty hand of the cook seized them! Another friend joined us for lunch, bringing wine (as is customary for guests to bring something delicious…) and we settled down for out incredible feast- pasta with a sausage, olive and tomato sauce, cozze (mussels), salad and fresh bread. We eat, eat seconds, salute each other various times with a clink of our glasses before we drink. Always a sincere and jovial“buon appetito” and a “salute” or “cin cin” (chin chin) to toast the feast and the company. The windows are open. We let the wine soften our angles. The sunlight rests appropriately on the kitchen table through the skylight window. This the is amiable sociability, that I’ve always loved, that accompanies Italian (and in this case, and just as customary, Albanian) meals.

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