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movies that showed food. Nobody ever ate a bite in the tear-jerkers. But in the operettas there were always banquet scenes, tables piled high with food, while the leads just talked, and no one ate, hardly touched a bite. It was so bad one day a man shouted out at Willy Frisch up on the screen, Eat something, for God’s sake! People came to drool over the food scenes, and they burst out laughing. But this German soldier, he thought they were insulting the fatherland, so he ripped the man out of his seat and beat him.
    We always got our fill with those movies, because there was a second food scene, where the star would take the female lead to a restaurant, or some swanky club to try and seduce her. At first all they would do was drink, and people would be getting impatient . But then would come the food. Mostly disgusting stuff like oysters and caviar – ever since then I can’t even look at seafood. You think they ever ate things like bean soup or roasts or boiled pig’s heads? In one film they did eat some eggs though. Most of the time when the food scenes were over, Fanis would tug me on the sleeve to go home because then came the love scenes and the mushy stuff. Since then, in fact generally speaking, I never cared much for love-making, it always seemed a bit like a kind of surgical operation there in bed, with the male of the species flopping around all over me, even nowadays, is what I mean to say.
    Signor Vittorio, he wasn’t as gallant as Signor Alfio. Even if he was an interpreter, too. Signor Alfio brought him by one evening saying he was going back home and he wanted to introduce his replacement to Mother. That evening he was so upset he forgot to bring us food. I’d say he was just about ready to cry when he kissed us, me and our Fanis. Anyway, he gave us some money, and we walked him to the corner so as to leave Mother alone with the new gentleman. Meantime, we could hardly wait for the introductions to end. Mrs Chrysafis, the lady with the narrow two-storey place just across the street, gave us a recipe book and in the evenings I would read recipes to Mrs Chrysafis and Kanello’s kids. First would come the main course, then the desserts, all chock full of meringues and custards.
    The money Signor Alfio gave us we clutched tight in our fists, and when Signor Vittorio left we hurried into the house. But Mother told me to get same paper, she wanted to write something. So I dug around until I found my school bag, pulled out my pen, my ink pot and tore a lined sheet of paper out of my exercise book, I hadn’t opened the bag for three years. Roubini, she says, after your brother’s asleep I need you. Fortunately our Fanis dropped right off and I wrote a letter to Signor Alfio just as my mother dictated it. Then I wrote it out again, clean, and the next morning Fanis delivered it to the Carabineria: fortunately Signor Alfio was still there, so he handed it right to him. The original I still have right here in my purse.
    Respected signor Alfio,
    I am the lady who you have been visiting for these last two years, just behind the church of Saint Kyriaki, Asimina by name, and I write you by the hand of my daughter Roubini being as how I am illiterate.
    I thank you for such regular visits for two years now, for your kindness and for your food. Also I thank you for introducing me to your successor, as I am a homebody and I never could have found him all by myself.
    Know that wherever you may be for the rest of your life I will always be thankful to you for rescuing my children from death by starvation, but also for giving me much satisfaction. I confess that as a man I esteemed you more than my spouse and primarily you made me a woman with the kindness which you showed me.
    I am a married woman, maybe a widow even, but I had tender feelings for you which it never happened to me before in my life to desire a gentleman so much. I never revealed them but I am telling you now when you are not present and you will not come