I decided to pop into Renzullo’s food market for the first time a couple of weeks ago, it’s just north of 1st Ave, near our new place. Often there are little old Italian fellows walking up to the door with their tweed caps pulled tightly over their ears. Nonnas gather around the outdoor tables for a cup of coffee and a gossip session, resting their bikes against the brick. This is always a good sign of authenticity and a good price. It’s a sweet little family owned corner store packed with imported goods from Italy, a panino deli, and a little cafe and gelateria crammed into the corner. The day I went, it was a hard day and I guess sadness was in my face. Franco behind the espresso machine welcomed me warmly and asked me how my day was and remarked he hadn’t seen me before. I said I had just moved to that end of town. He squinted, looking at me a little closer and said earnestly, “How are you?” This took me aback, I had come in for a block of romano cheese, not for a chunk of compassion. I said, “Well, you know life, there is sorrow and there is joy.” And he came out from behind the counter and said, “And which day is this?” I said, “Oh, it’s too hard to talk about.” I looked down. He declared, “I am going to make you a cappuccino!” I chuckled. Well, that sounded just divine. I got my block of cheese and sat down outdoors in one of the little white chairs. He brought me the perfect cappuccino with a tiny little biscotti balanced carefully on the lid. The cappuccino was the smoothest I’ve had since Italy, soft as a baby’s bum. He told me they have their beans roasted in Napoli and shipped in. We had a wonderful chat about life and we swapped stories about what was going on in our lives and we talked cancer and all of that. We shared the miracle stories and the tragic stories and he wished my family the best. The store has been there since 1964 and his wife, the beautiful blonde Morella, is the daughter of the original owner. Well, of course I am a customer for life now. Today I returned with my dear friend Andrea. I said hello to Franco and Morella and they remembered my name and my story to my great surprise. We ordered a couple of cappuccinos and had a great visit. About half an hour into the conversation, Franco came outside with another “warm up” for us, on the house, and some home made treats. When I came back inside to thank him and Morella a little girl was there, Valentina. She was a sweet pony-tailed little lady in a dress coat with lovely earnest brows and a shy smile, maybe ten. Franco introduced us and told me Valentina had been praying for my family. I said, “Valentina, we’ve had a wonderful week and treatment is going very well so I can tell you your prayers are working and I am so grateful for them.” Then, how can I not? I bought three months worth of coffee beans. Beauty and comfort. Andrea and I wandered out into the misty rain and continued our warm and loving and lively life giving visit. She’s a vibrant and generous soul if I ever met one. The rest of the day I felt the warmth and fluffy cloud of love settle all around me, softening all the edges, as though I was resting in the sweetness of foam.
