Who Is Vincenzo, And Why Are We Chasing Him?
One night my wife and I noticed a little Italian restaurant had opened up in a strip mall very near our house called, oddly enough, Vincenzo's. We cleared a Saturday night and slid into the place. White table cloths, some pricey stuff on the menu, waiters in bow ties, Frank Sinatra soundtrack in the background. How can you beat this...-------
Our waiter was Italian. He was bald. He was very tall. The other waiter had an accent too. I don't know from where. When our entrees arrived they were huge. This was good, if thick, Italian cooking. Human-sized portions. The display could be better, the wine selection lacked a bit. The service was a little slow. But the food... which went on forever in those bowl-like plates... the food was wonderful. If heavy. This was Italian peasant cooking in a nice suit.
We returned several times. On one visit when I returned from... washing my hands... my wife had a special little plate next to her entree. Something red and saucy and cheese and something else or other. I can't recall. She explained that the chef (whose name was oddly enough Vincenzo) had come out and prepared a small special request of hers, off the menu. And by all reports it was very nice, too.
A few weeks later we were shocked to see that the place was closed. Lights out. Locked. "Closed for Business" sign in the door. Not only that, but someone had pitched a very big rock at the sign above the door making a gaping hole so that it read, as you might imagine, VIN____ZO'S.
We had no idea what happened. A month or so later it reopened under a different name. We returned, but the chef (named Vincenzo) no longer worked there.
Lo and behold someone told my wife that Vincenzo was working at another Italian place somewhere out towards the end of suburbia. Probably near soy fields. And so one winter's night we dutifully trekked - or shlepped, depending on how you view it - down a cold snowy road to this new venue where Vincenzo worked.
It wasn't called Vincenzo's but there was a huge banner out front blowing in the wind saying VINCENZO IS HERE!, and sure enough... the food was loaded onto the plates so that you had to take three boxes home with you and have some for lunch and beyond later.
My wife asked the waitress to ask Vincenzo if he would prepare something in an unrecognizable Italian word that was not on the menu. The waitress said she didn't think that was possible but returned with it anyway. She said "you must know Vincenzo!" O happy day... etc.
But there it was again - weeks later and the banner was gone. Was it because now that everyone knew Vincenzo had found this home there wasn't any further need to advertise it? No. Was it because the winter wind blew the sign down? No. It was because Vincenzo didn't work there anymore. And you could tell - the spaghetti had a certain Chef-Boy-Ar-Dee quality to it. I kept thinking I saw bagel-dogs somewhere.
Oh well.
Fast forward three years. Vincenzo long forgotten. We go into an Italian restaurant that had been in the same place forever though we never tried it out.... you guessed it.... I come back from washing my hands and my wife said; "Vincenzo is the chef here!!" Apparently he saw her through the swinging door and came out to pay his respects. The man has always taken care of his following, I'll say that much for him.
Except that on our next visit he was gone again.
This has left me wondering a few things. First, why does this keep happening to Vincenzo? Second, what is that plate of small whatever he makes for my wife? And third - how come it is I have still never met this guy, but my wife just loves the fellow?
I guess I'm just not lucky at all.
And now I am doomed to spend the rest of my life chasing Vincenzo. And we will track him down unto the ends of the Earth. Or die of linguini trying.
