Taiven Parmiga

Chapter 14: Bruschetta And Tiramisu

It turns out we're headed to an Italian restaurant called Primavista. When we arrive, we're able to get in and seated in less than ten minutes. They sit us in a section of the restaurant where an entire wall is nothing but a giant glass window. We sit down and I glance at the menu that displays more food selections than I have ever imagined. The waitor comes by and introduces himself as Jerry. I almost order water, knowing the meal will be expensive enough. But Evan cuts me off and asks for their finest selection of wine this season. Jerry gracefully maneuvers past all the tables and guests with his stalky, lean figure and slicked back, dark hair.

"Evan. I don't want you spending a bunch of money on me here. Anything satisfies me. It doesn't have to be fancy." I say to him across the candle lit table.

"Hey. Trust me. It'll be worth it. I've heard loads of great stuff about this place." He reassures me.

"Seriously. One appetizer probably costs more than my entire house!" I tell him quietly, hoping the nearby waitress doesn't overhear and feel offended.

"Lucky for me, I just got my third paycheck for our filming. When you see the number of digits on this baby, you'll want to order everything on the menu." He sneakily smirks.

"Guess the shows going pretty well if we're getting paid this much." I say almost to myself. I feel proud we've done so well so soon.

"This is only the beginning." He winks and before I can blush and pretend I didn't, Jerry returns with a large wine bottle in each hand.

"Barolo or Barbaresco?" He gestures each wine by holding them up slightly higher when naming them.
I shrug and turn to Evan.

"What's the difference?" I ask Jerry.

"Barolo is very deep and lush. They call it the King of Wines because it takes so long to age, but is always worth the wait. Barbaresco is much lighter and more graceful. Very crisp." He shrugs in satisfaction at his knowledge of the wines he's presented.
I look over to Evan, who tells me it's my decision.

"Let's go with the Barolo." I announce. He nods, pours us each a glass and sits the bottle on the table before leaving.

"Anything look good?" Evan asks after a while.

"What doesn't is the better question." I smile. "This place is amazing." I gawk looking around the dining room filled with people of all ages, sizes, and types.

"What in the world is Bruschetta?" I ask.

"It's basically Italian bread that's been dipped in olive oil and toasted. It's really good with the garden tomatoes or fresh rosemary." He informs me. Who knew he would be such an expert on Italian food?
He must notice my stare of disbelief.

"My mom is obsessed with Italian food. My dad always payed for her to take classes. But cooking just wasn't her thing. So we always went to places like this when we could afford it. They wouldn't be nearly this expensive though." I stop to think about anyone in my family that had an interest in a certain type of food. My older sister, Vera, always loved European food. She was good at making it too. But she always explained to me,

"Some talents are meant to pursue. Others are just meant for fun on the weekends." She would always end it with a wink and a warm smile.

Evan and I both order different types of fancy toasted Italian sandwiches called Paninis. We spend most of the night talking about family and our lives as children. Then we move on to personal hobbies and interest. After an hour and a half of endless talking and amazing food, Jerry returns, takes our plates and asks about desert.
I try to give Evan a look that says
It's fine. Don't pay for any more. It's too expensive.
But he doesn't seem to get it.

"One slice of Tiramasu and 2 glasses of Brunello di Montalcino." Jerry looks over to me in a way I can't quite read.

"What's Tiramasu?" I ask, feeling a bit foolish for not knowing all of my Italian food vocabulary before dining here.

"It's pretty much just layers of coffee-soaked sponge cake topped with powdered chocolate and mascarpone cheese." He simply states, trying to downplay the fsnciness of the dish.

"And the Bruno de something...?" I ask again, hoping he's not annoyed by all of my questions.

"The Brunello di Montalcino? Let's just say it's a very fancy wine. They don't call is The Star of Italian Wines for nothing." He slightly smiles across the table to display his dimples, once again, making me lose all train of thought and common sense.
Jerry brings us the Tiramasu and wine.

"Oh look!" I explain pointing through the large glass window we're seated beside. "A blue sunset." I quietly say to the window.

"A what?" He asks, both confused and curious. Now it was finally my turn to know the answers.

"When I was younger, I quickly decided these kinds of sunsets were my favorite. The ones that didn't have so much yellow and pink and light. It was just a mixture of deep blues and purples with a splash of bright orange just above the horizon. Where the sun says it's very last goodbyes..." I go on in a foggy haze almost forgetting I'm talking to Evan and not myself. I turn to see him staring me straight in the eyes with a small, warm smile on his face that feels so kind and familiar to me now. He tries to speak multiple times but can't find the right words.
Soon he just lifts his glass of The Star of Wines and speaks,

"To our crazy day. Full of robbers and baseball concussions and fancy, unpronouncable foods." I laugh and smile down on our empty plates and glasses.
"And to us." He concludes. We raise our glasses and I reply,

"Us and our Blue Sunsets."

Clink.