It was a spur of the moment decision to hop on a train down to Salerno, which is where we would catch the bus to Amalfi. There we were, a group of young women scuffling our way off the train and right back onto a different mode of transportation. The bus to Amalfi along a very narrow, two lane highway that plummets from a steep cliff into that deep blue crystal water.
As the daring motor cycle riders whizzed between cars we came to complete stop. Right in front of our bus was another bus, just as large and just as determined to pass on this narrow strip of asphalt. One inch at a time we squeezed by each other as both drivers tucked in the rear view mirrors. At one point the passengers in the other bus were so close we could have opened windows and exchanged a handshake and perhaps a glass of wine. As we narrowly escaped a sideways collision we continued on our path to our destination.
As we gratefully approached the small, four street town of Amalfi we all piled out of the bus to discover a quaint little cafe overlooking the chilly but beautiful waters of the sea. It was December so although we didn't spend our time on the beaches of this gorgeous coastline, we had plenty of time to eat, which is one of my favorite past times. The cool water brings an abundance of shrimp, fish, mussels and other delicacies of the sea so this was the perfect time to indulge in the freshness the Mediterranean has to offer. There in the restaurant window read the sign: "Godetevi la nostra ricetta di pasta aglio gamberi fatta in casa". Translating to: "Enjoy our garlic shrimp pasta recipe, homemade." We all piled into the cafe.
Much like the abundance of delicious seafood there is no shortage of handsome Italian waiters to come to our service. Luca was his name and his Mama and two other brothers owned and ran the cafe along with the adjoining club room where the men of the town would come, drink wine, play cards and smoke fine cigars. He insisted on bring us a lovely bottle of white wine and proudly boasted his Mother's garlic shrimp pasta with homemade fettuccini.
Italians take too much pride in their cooking to advise only the best they can offer. We eagerly accepted his suggestion and ordered the special garlic shrimp pasta recipe. We asked that he bring out a large plate for us all to share. The butter and garlic sauce was pooling around the homemade pasta and the shrimp danced on top with sprinkles of freshly chopped parsley. You could smell the aroma of the garlic as it filled the small cafe, long before it arrived to our table. As we dined and drank I begged Luca to introduce me to his Mama so I could properly thank her for the stupendous meal. The tiny Italian woman accepted, a rarity upon itself, and came out to meet us for her thanks.
As Luca's Mama sat by her handsome son she began to share how she created the delightful garlic shrimp pasta recipe in detail. You must stamp the garlic with a wide knife and the palm of your hand. Never crushing it with a tool, Luca explain as he interpreted. I sat there in amazement and eagerness to learn this woman's culinary secrets. How did it come to be that this woman is willing to share her family recipe with a group of strangers as if welcoming us in her kitchen to view the creation first hand? I didn't question. I only sat and listened and absorbed it all.
Garlic and Shrimp Pasta Recipe:
- 1 pound of large shrimp that has been shelled, deveined and cleaned
- 1 pound of Homemade fettuccini pasta
- 2 sticks of unsalted butter
- 8 to 10 slammed, garlic cloves
- The juice of 1/4 fresh lemon
- 1/4 cup of drinkable white wine
- 1/2 cup of freshly chopped Italian parsley
- Just enough olive oil to coat a large saute pan
- Salt and Pepper to taste
When we had our fill on the garlic shrimp pasta masterpiece, then some freshly made espresso; we extended our thanks one more time as we departed the cafe. As I turned around to wave good-bye to the Signora I could see the gleam in her eyes as she watch the team of women venturing off to resume their travels. It occurred to me that she took a liking to us as we reminded her of her youth and how she may have rendezvoused off with a group of her girlfriends long before she was blessed with the life she has now in this small town of Amalfi, and when Luca and her two other sons were not even a thought in her mind yet.
Ciao Signora, grazie mille! I said to her as I waved good-bye to her with knowing eyes.
Ciao bella ragazzi, ciao. She replied with an equally knowing gaze.