Luigi La Tella
Luigi La Tella’s food truck pulls into his usual spot on West Third Street near Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village. For over 20 years, he has been there at 11:30 am, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, to feed the hungry lunchtime crowd. On this particular Friday, Luigi’s heart jumps with excitement to see the long line waiting for him. "Luigi!” they cheer as their stomachs growl in anticipation. With a big wave, he says hello to everyone: “Ciao a tutti!” He smiles, which twists up his moustache at the ends. Once he is ready to open, he says, “Salire subito! Step right up! Quanti?” “One for me, and one for my friend, please.” Today’s line is particularly long, and Luigi wonders if he has prepared enough food. “Oh, well,” he thinks, “there’s always next time. They’ll be back for more.” Luigi’s menu is simple: juicy and luscious lasagna, meatballs that melt in your mouth, and bread with just the right amount of butter and garlic. He uses his mother’s recipes, passed down from her mother. When Luigi was a little boy, he watched his mother cook. She would pick him up and place him on the kitchen counter next to her, which was the best seat in the house. As Luigi serves the last person in line, he thinks about his good fortune: |
He has a large family who cares for him. He has a decent place to live. His health is good for a man of his age. He has his own business, which he runs exactly the way he wants. He is able to do what he loves to do: cook for people. Luigi’s life is simple, like his menu. In his mind, he has it all—except a wife. Long ago, he was married a few times and always wondered what went wrong. Did all the women leave him for the same reason? Perhaps they left him because of his smile. When he is angry, he looks like he is smiling—almost like criminals who enjoy watching their victims squirm. Did his smile scare them all away? When Luigi returns home, he changes into some comfy clothes and snuggles with his beloved cat. “It’s just you and me, Gatta. Chi ti ama, piccolo mio? Who loves you, my little one? Are you hungry?” He heats some leftover meatballs and places them in the kitty’s bowl. “You like that, eh? That’s good. Mangiare … eat!” At the end of the evening, Luigi lies in bed and listens to Gatta purr. “It sure would be nice if I had some human companionship,” he whispers. “Well, piccolo, what shall we dream about tonight?” Gatta gazes into Luigi’s eyes. Her whiskers look like a twisted-up moustache, and she seems to be smiling. From Carpet Creatures: Tales from the Deep Pile To join the Carpet Creatures project, please visit our TAE Gallery website. |
