Veronika and Tobia are two young people very much in love, both with one another and the simple freedom their 1964 split screen affords them. Tobia is a freelance pianist and veronica is a language student based in Roma.
Five long years ago Tobia stumbled across the scruffy remains of the split screen VW on a chicken farm in the townlette of Mentana just North East of Roma. It was being used to house some well loved “Blue Andalusia’s” an ancient and much loved breed of chicken commonly used in Italy. After making an offer to help rehouse the “blues” the owner agreed to part with the split screen and Tobia dragged the carcass away.
Two years of cleaning guano and 6000 euros later Tobia was ready to fulfil his promise to Veronika to take her to the gypsy fair in Montenegro so she could study the traveller’s dialects.
They would travel north thru Italy then down thru her native Slovenia … on to Montenegro and then down to Greece where they would board the ferry to Spain. Having planned to spend their long awaited summer break there and Veronika would then have the opportunity to study the nuances of the Basque language.
Unfortunately and as life often behests the romance of getting to the Gypsy fair was shattered thru lack of finances and with a typical Italian betrayal of organisation, they were forced to head south to Apulia and catch the ferry at the heel of Italy directly over to Barcelona.
Sadden but not downhearted they landed in the teeming metropolis of Barcelona… and parked the van on the wide and very busy “Joan De Borbo” with no … route .. timescale or even a hint of a plan …
I saw them there for almost two days and watched them cook, wash, clean and live on the sidewalk as hoards of people passed by intrigued by this beautiful veteran of the road and the antics of the people inside.
As I passed Tobia gave me a smile as only the Italians know how … which in turn started a conversation about cookery, the road and the old man that steered them thru their adventure. “Dudu” was his name but it was also the pet name for my brother … which made us both laugh.
I was quickly invited to eat or cook … im not sure which but it soon became apparent that both were intrinsically linked … one not possible without the other. So we all dived in …and as Veronika is a vegetarian the local dish of bacalao was chosen. Served with a few simple accompaniments.. a bean and tomato salad… a green bean and mushroom stew , dressed rice and stewed tomatoes. All simple stuff but divine in its simplicity. All dishes chosen by Veronika and cooked on a simple Gaz Stove inside “Dudu”
Tobia’s forte was as a tango pianist and “Dudu” was often used as a tango bus teaching people around Rome to dance to this majestic discipline…so in the back ground Tobia stuck on his mp3 player with his wonderful renditions of this Argentine magic.
The rice was boiled, the tomatoes chopped the onions peeled and sliced and the bacalao de salted. All as hoards of by passers wandered by and looked on at this sidewalk cookery show.
The salads were assembled and the onions began to soften in the pan… a light golden hue began to cover them and the bacalao was added… a splash of olive oil – Italian without question…. a squeeze of lemon and then the chopped baby pomodorino tomatoes were added and allowed to cook down … Out came the chilled Soave a splash was added to the pan and finally the coarsely hacked parsley.
There was a smooth transition from cookery to eating eased along by the young chilled soave and a loaf of re baked Maltese Bread from a recent trip… The tangy sourdough crumb a perfect sponge for the tomato and fish liquor… The bacalao was divine its saltiness cleanly addressed by the tomato and the fresh taste of the parsley.
It took about an hour to prepare and cook the food which was remarkable enough as Id never seen anyone cook in a vw camper before… id been told it was a truly wonderful thing to watch and enjoy … and it was….. there was no drive for simplicity it just happened as naturally as the conversation that flowed …. The fish and the salads were devoured… and the Soave slipped down just as readily.
It was an hour that was infected with laughter… conversation, warmth and wonderful company…an hour that I wish I could have shared with someone else very close to me… but all in all an hour that will stay with me till my last.
:: © Shaun Smith-Roberts 2006 ::
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