How to Bake a New Beginning

‘Come on, Brina, Nanna and Grandpa are so excited to see you. You know what Grandpa’s like – he hasn’t stopped asking about you all day. Plus, we’ve held off with the birthday celebrations till you got here,’ Louisa said, grabbing her sister by the arm and pulling her towards the house. Amanda strolled calmly behind them. Though she didn’t quite display her emotions on her sleeve like Louisa did, there was no hiding the bright smile that was now etched on Amanda’s face.

***

The dining room was full of colour. Red, green and white balloons were bunched up – dangling from the doorframes and curtains – and wrapping paper had been strewn across the table, as had bags of pasta and vibrant Italian cake boxes.

Sabrina’s eyes drifted round the table. She took in everyone’s features, everyone’s movements: her mother’s chocolate eyes sparkled with pure delight; Dad had his hands resting on his stomach as he leant back in his chair, stuffed and happy from all the food; Grandpa’s eyes twinkled; Nanna’s smile reached all the way to her ears, making her look twenty-one and carefree again; Amanda’s green eyes focused intently on the food in front of her and Louisa simply watched her grandpa, making sure he had everything he needed.

Everyone talked over one another, laughing uncontrollably in between devouring each piece of pizza quicker than the speed of light. In that moment, she felt content, like there truly was no place on earth she would rather be. All the stress and drama of work melted away like the mouth-watering mozzarella she was chewing; it was heaven on earth.

‘Grandpa, I sure have missed this,’ she said, holding her piece of pizza in the air, like it was a trophy.

‘You can get pizza in America, no?’ Grandpa replied with a cheeky grin.

‘Ha, you know as well as I do, Grandpa, that no pizza on the planet tastes as good as this. No one will ever be able to make it taste as amazing as you do,’ Amanda said.

Sabrina loved the passion her sister had for their grandpa’s food. It made her laugh hearing Amanda’s voice rise with pride when talking about his pizza.

‘It’s crisp, yet chewy, with the perfect amount of crunch, and it’s as light as air,’ her big sister continued.

Sabrina watched as Grandpa’s gaze met Amanda’s and he gave her a small wink. They were like two peas in a pod.

‘Hear, hear,’ Sabrina chanted, raising her wineglass now that her pizza had been demolished. She felt dizzy on love and Lambrusco, but her eyes threatened to roll back in her head. Amanda had been right: she not only looked exhausted, she absolutely felt it too. Her bones were heavy, her neck tight. She rolled her head from side to side, hoping it would loosen up.

‘It’s good to have you home, sweetheart,’ Dad said, raising his glass and clinking it against hers.

‘It feels great to be home, Dad.’ Sabrina smiled softly. It really did feel wonderful to be home. Her shoulders relaxed at the thought of not having to deal with her wouldn’t go amiss in a Disney villain line-up, Cruella de Vil of a boss, Lydia, for the next few days.

The warmth of the room and the bubbles from the Lambrusco made her feel a world away from LA. Tonight she was surrounded by the people she loved more than she could say, and who genuinely loved and cared for her. ‘Buon compleanno, Grandpa,’ she shouted, raising her glass to the room once more. Seeing her grandpa’s face light up would keep jet lag at bay for a while longer.

‘Mamma mia, grazie, grazie. How many girls have I got here now?’ Grandpa said. His voice filled the small dining room, his happiness radiating to each of them.

‘Buon compleanno,’ Nanna shouted, clapping her hands together. ‘Louisa, get the pandoro. Come on, come on.’ Nanna too was thrilled to have all her girls round the table together. Any time this happened was cause for cake and celebrations, but when it came to birthdays and special times like Christmas, Nanna looked like a child, her face etched with glee. She looked to her husband and whispered, ‘Buon compleanno, my dear,’ before cutting a huge slice of pandoro and placing it in front of him. She then went back to cutting more big chunks of cake and passed everyone a piece. ‘Be happy, happy,’ Nanna continued. ‘Ahh grazie, God.’

Sabrina wasn’t sure her stomach could handle the mountain of pandoro in front of her, after eating so much pizza and drinking a fair bit of wine, in addition to jet lag that had now kicked in, but it smelt so buttery and delicious and Nanna was staring at her expectantly. Not eating it was not an option – it was never an option. Plus, she was only in town for a week. She had to eat all her favourites while she could get them, and it was Grandpa’s ninety-sixth birthday after all.

With these thoughts sloshing round her brain, she laughed to herself and took a huge bite. No sooner had the vanilla flavour hit her taste buds than her slice had gone. So much for not having any room left.

‘Grazie, Nanna,’ she whispered, with a chuckle.

Chapter 3

Grandpa’s Pancakes

Ingredients:

Flour

Sugar

Egg

Milk

Butter

Nutella

What to do:

Mix around 4 tablespoons of flour with 2 teaspoons of sugar, an egg and a cup of milk, until smooth.

Heat up a saucepan and add a dab of butter.

Pour in a ladle full of pancake batter and swirl round like Grandpa does.

You will know when one side is done because small bubbles will form. Flip it over and cook the other side.

Smother in Nutella.

The birds were chirping in the garden. The whistles of the wintry winds could be heard through the glass. There was a peacefulness to a Sunday morning that Amanda couldn’t get enough of. It was her one full day away from work and that meant she was up at the crack of dawn ready for a day of spending time with family, catching up on reading, cleaning and actually getting to experiment in her own kitchen. Though she had taken yesterday off too – for the first time in a very long time – Sundays always felt special and she liked to make the most of them.

‘Rise and shine, sleeping beauties,’ Amanda said walking into her guest bedroom and opening the silk pink curtains wide, to let the morning sunshine boldly fill up the room.

‘Oh gosh, what time is it?’ Louisa whined, pulling her pillow over her face. She was lying next to Sabrina in the double bed.

Sabrina threw her arms up to shield against the imposing light. ‘Jet lag is a thing, Amanda – look it up. I need rest,’ she said, her eyes still firmly shut.

‘There’s no time for rest. You’re only here for a week. I told Grandpa we would pop over for leftover cake before we hit the shops. And I don’t get much time away from the kitchen, which means we won’t get much time this week to do said shopping, so, we are going to make the most of today,’ Amanda told them, cracking open a window to wake them up with fresh air, which received further moans.

‘Chop, chop. You too, Lou. With our work schedules we rarely see each other and you live fifteen minutes away from me – and that’s a bit pathetic,’ she added, with an edge to her voice that made Louisa sit up straight. Amanda wasn’t exactly blaming Louisa, she was mad at herself too. The schedule of a chef wasn’t for the faint-hearted.

Amanda busied herself with her routine Sunday morning cleaning while waiting for her sisters to get ready. She was halfway through dusting the window ledges when they appeared before her, surprisingly fully dressed and ready for the day. Amanda was the early bird out of the three of them. She did enjoy a lie-in every couple of months, but just like her grandpa, she always had something to bake. Cooking in the morning while still in her pyjamas had become a little piece of bliss for her.

Sundays were usually Sabrina’s only day off in LA. Amanda was aware of this fact, and knew Sabrina liked to sleep in, but she would have plenty of time for that on her vacation in the coming weekdays when everyone else was working. As for Louisa, an extra hour and grumpy would be kept at bay, but once they were at Nanna and Grandpa’s, Amanda knew her baby sister would be anything but grumpy. Nonni were special like that. Amanda just had to get her up and moving.

The clock had just moved past eight-thirty as Amanda, casually glam and put together in her black pinstriped trousers and oversized rose embroidered grey jumper; Sabrina in her usual floaty dress and tights ensemble, minimal make-up yet as gorgeous as ever; and Louisa with her sleek black blazer, skinny blue jeans and white Converse pumps, stepped out into the crisp December air, giant teddy bear coats covering their individual fashion tastes.

Growing up, the three of them were chained together at the hip and that’s how they thought it would forever be, but dreams and jobs had led them in different directions. Amanda and Louisa hadn’t been too fond of Sabrina leaving them and jetting off to LA. They had disapproved at first and it had taken a lot of convincing on Sabrina’s part that it wouldn’t be for too long and that she still honoured their pact – this pact being that by the time they all reached thirty they would have houses on the same street, a five-minute walk from their mum and dad.

Slowly the girls began to understand Sabrina’s dream and had come around to being supportive. Amanda of all people knew the importance of travelling, having spent so much time away herself. It was always temporary though, and her heart always led her back home.

The girls made time to visit each other as often as work would allow. This week it was Amanda’s turn to play host and she couldn’t have been more thrilled. The strain of jobs, and the fact it had been a year since Sabrina’s last visit, had been causing an unwelcome tension over the past few months. Amanda didn’t care for being snappy, but at times she was aware that she could be. It wasn’t a trait she wanted to exude. She hoped today she and her sisters could get some much-needed girl time for the sake of their sanity.

Amanda, the oldest of the girls, was baking and cooking up a storm by the age of eight. Though all the girls enjoyed cooking with their nonni, Amanda had taken to it like a duck to water, and it was very rare to see her out of her ‘I can’t keep calm, I’m Italian’ apron. The days spent in the kitchen studying their nanna and grandpa were priceless and her passion never faltered when she left their house.

At twenty-seven, Amanda was now a fully certified chef. She had qualifications, certificates and diplomas in professional patisserie, culinary arts – you name it. She had travelled the world taking numerous courses and immersing herself in different cultures and their cuisines. That was until three years ago. After a month exploring San Francisco, she had come back feeling inspired and full of vigour and decided to put her travel plans on hold. She wanted to focus on learning all there was to know about running a restaurant. She found herself a cosy spot in Manchester Piccadilly, at the popular Rusk, where she served British food with an elegant twist.

Amanda had been there two and a half years now and besides having to deal with a rather sleazy sous chef, she was happy, or more accurately, she was comfortable. It suited her. After her years spent travelling, she liked being close to her mum and dad, Louisa and home comforts.

When it was Amanda’s turn to have the girls over, they knew they were in for a few tasty treats. All Sabrina ever wanted when she came home from LA was Grandpa’s pizza. She requested it every night, and as for Louisa, she could never say no to pizza. After a brief stint away in London for university, her baby sister appreciated Amanda’s home cooking that much more.

Amanda had doubled over laughing when Louisa had expressed sheer horror at the foods she saw her fellow students eat. It seemed their nonni and Amanda had created a little bit of a food snob in Louisa – no microwave meals or Pot Noodles for her.

***

Grandpa was waiting in the garden perched on an old brown garden bench, in his heavy black padded coat, when the girls pulled up.

‘Grandpa,’ Louisa shouted, un-clicking her seatbelt and opening the car door before Amanda even had the car in park.

‘Lou,’ Sabrina yelled. But Louisa was blissfully unaware of giving her sisters a mild panic attack as she wrapped her arms around their grandpa. Amanda turned off the engine. Seeing the joy on her grandpa’s face, now that all three of his granddaughters were with him, melted away any twinge of annoyance at her little sister.

She walked over to Grandpa and kissed his forehead. ‘I love you,’ she whispered.

‘Anche io,’ he replied, kissing her cheek.

Sabrina opened the front door, calling to Nanna to inform her of their arrival as Amanda and Louisa helped Grandpa up.

‘Now, let’s get inside for some coffee and cake and to warm you up,’ Amanda suggested.

***

The afternoon brought with it an icy nip. Amanda rubbed at the sleeves of her grey jumper. Shopping with a puffy jacket on was never a good idea. Being hot and stuffy while trying to weave in and out of bustling crowds and undressing in a tiny changing room with a million layers on never produced a successful shop and so she had left her teddy coat in the car. However, the jumper she was currently sporting was not ideal when the breeze picked up, causing Amanda to shiver. The only thing keeping her from aborting the shopping mission was a happy stomach full to the brim with Cantuccini and birthday trifle.

Amanda let out a deep sigh as Louisa linked an arm through hers, warming her up slightly. She felt a little lighter, and colder, than she had done in days; no doubt the pure happiness she felt spending the weekend with her family, and Sabrina being home, had everything to do with that. She navigated the crowds with Sabrina to her left and Louisa clutching on to her right.

Manchester was jam-packed, the Christmas Markets in full swing. The giant Santa proudly sat on display front and centre. Amanda was taking it in, enjoying the freedom of having a weekend off. She had no Jeff to contend with and no hot and tense kitchen to see to. As much as she loved her job, a weekend off every so often was rather wonderful. If she just had Dan here with her too, it would be perfect.

***

Dan carefully placed a cup in Amanda’s hands, his own hands then wrapping around hers, so she didn’t drop it. She had her eyes closed and a bright smile on her face. The tip of her nose was red from the frosty night air.

‘OK, take a sip, but be careful – it will be hot,’ Dan said, his warm hands guiding the cup to her lips.

Amanda felt something cold touch her lips first. She licked them, and the delicious taste of vanilla whipped cream danced on her taste buds. She knew it was a hot chocolate of some kind, but she didn’t want to spoil the fun just yet, and Dan was smarter than that – he knew not to make it that easy.

She blew in the direction of the cold whipped cream and slurped to get past it. She could taste a rich coffee, with a smooth blend of chocolate and something she couldn’t put her finger on. Damn it, she thought, her pride not wanting to let Dan win.

‘Any guesses?’ Dan asked. He still hadn’t removed his hands from on top of hers. Though Amanda kept her eyes closed, she knew he was smirking. Her brain tried to come up with the right answer. She took another sip, stalling for more time, but she could not place the mystery ingredient.

‘Ooh should we have Nutella crepes next?’ she said, to change the subject.

‘You have no idea what it is, do you?’ Dan questioned as she opened her eyes and looked down at the cup. ‘You are a cheat,’ he added, removing his hands from around hers and placing them in his coat pockets.

Amanda blinked a few times to ease the glare of the lights. ‘No, I’m just hungry for crepes,’ she teased, shaking her head at Dan’s mock disappointed look.

‘You call yourself my best friend and you can’t even recognize eggnog,’ Dan scoffed, a playful grin playing at his lips. Dan liked his eggnog because he loved all things Christmas. Amanda knew this, but still, she never would have guessed eggnog.

‘I said eggnog,’ she noted, batting her eyelashes and taking another sip. Dan laughed and put an arm around her shoulders and started walking in the direction of the crepes.

The Manchester Christmas Markets felt magical this year, having Dan by her side. He loved the food huts the best, just like Amanda did, but he also enjoyed the details and craftsmanship of the many homemade gift stands. He was an artist through and through.

Amanda’s toes were numb by the time they headed for home. She hadn’t been able to get Dan away. They had to see every stall, drink another chocolate eggnog – the man was obsessed – and explore every nook and cranny of Manchester city centre before he agreed that the toastiness of Amanda’s house was calling his name too. It was safe to say Dan liked the place, Amanda thought to herself as they walked arm in arm, and for some reason that made her feel good.

***

Amanda cleared her throat and shook her head, angry with herself for letting Dan seep into her thoughts. She had been doing so well to keep phone calls and texts to just once or twice a week over the past few months. She wasn’t about to let the romance of Christmas ruin her efforts of keeping thoughts of her best friend just that, simply thoughts of a best friend and nothing more.

‘Ooh, that’s gorgeous,’ Louisa said, pointing at a piece of clothing that looked more suitable to adorn an art gallery wall than an actual person.

‘If you say so,’ Amanda said, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. She laughed, glad of the distraction when Louisa hit her with her handbag.

‘Can we go in?’ Sabrina asked, eyeing the sales sign. ‘I bet they’ve got tons of dresses on sale now that summer is over,’ she added, excitement in her voice.

Amanda was about to tell her that she needed to stock up on warmer clothes now she was in England, then it hit her that it wouldn’t be long and Sabrina would be back in LA, no doubt needing a floaty dress for every day of the week. ‘Lead the way,’ she said instead, with a forced smile.

Amanda absent-mindedly flicked through the dress racks. It wasn’t that she disliked shopping, she quite enjoyed it. Though she didn’t have Louisa’s flair or guts for exquisite pieces or Sabrina’s penchant for floaty ensembles, she knew a knockout dress when she saw one. Her work outfits weren’t much to be desired, so she enjoyed making an effort when she was out of the kitchen, but effort for her still had to be comfy. She was a boots and pants kind of girl and couldn’t say no to an oversized slouchy jumper.

No, it wasn’t that she disliked shopping, it was more that she kept getting the itch to pick up her phone. As they weaved in and out of the racks, it was like a battle was going on in her brain. She was starting to get on her own nerves, with this whole inability to live without Dan. When had she become so dependent? She needed to get lost in a book or some music or something because shopping clearly wasn’t doing the trick. Then again books and music would be pointless too, she realized. Why did he have to like all the same books she did? And why did Dan have to be a bloody rock star?

‘Are you OK over there?’ Sabrina asked, peeking at Amanda from over a rail. ‘You look like you’re trying to solve an algebra equation in that brain of yours and we know maths isn’t your strong suit,’ Sabrina added with a laugh.

Amanda hastily looked down and focused on the dresses before her, spotting one she knew Sabrina would adore. She grabbed it and held it up, which immediately changed the subject.

‘Oh, that’s beautiful,’ Sabrina gushed, moving in to claim it.

‘Wow, that’s perfect for you,’ Louisa said, surveying the peach floral number and giving it her approval. ‘Good job, Amanda.’

***

A few hours later, weighed down with bags of clothing, they walked through Amanda’s front door. They deposited their bags in their bedrooms and made quick work of getting into their comfiest PJs. Then Amanda set about making snacks as Sabrina and Louisa got the DVDs ready in the living room. Within the hour they were settled quite comfortably in their favourite spots.

Amanda lay sprawled out across the single couch, her legs stretched out over the armrest. Louisa made herself cosy on the three-seater couch and Sabrina had taken blankets and cushions to the floor of the white, blush and gold washed living room. It was warm and snug and much to Sabrina’s delight there was pizza and an array of Italian cakes at arm’s reach and What’s Your Number? was playing on the TV. This had been their go-to movie for the past five years and these moments were what the girls lived for. Family was everything to them.

‘Could you get any dreamier than Chris Evans?’ Louisa sighed. Her eyes were glazing over with every word Chris Evans spoke.

‘Hmm, I’m more a Harry Styles circa 2015 girl myself,’ Amanda replied matter-of-fact, pulling her legs back over the armrest and tucking them under the blanket she had draped over her middle.

‘Ooh, tattoos and a man bun,’ Sabrina teased, grabbing another slice of pizza.

‘He kind of looks like Dan,’ Louisa piped up, causing Amanda to shove the whole slice of pizza into her mouth.

Sabrina noticed Amanda’s jaw tense. Something was up because Dan was usually more of a happy topic of conversation, apart from when Sabrina and Louisa pestered Amanda about her feelings for him and whether she liked him more than just as a friendly companion. Louisa hadn’t suggested anything of the sort tonight, just that Dan resembled Harry Styles, albeit a slightly more broad and bearded version of Harry Styles, but tattooed and luscious hair all the same, with a chiselled jaw and piercing eyes. But at that suggestion Amanda’s whole body had closed off.

For a while a calm silence enveloped the living room as the girls dug in to pizza and helpings of sfogliatelle, while gazing at the TV screen, as though it had them hypnotized. Chris Evans could have that effect on a person.

Amanda broke the silence. With her eyes firmly fixed on Chris Evans, she asked the question that Sabrina knew was burning on her lips. Amanda asked her every time she saw her, but this time it had taken her two whole days to bring it up and Sabrina wasn’t sure why.

‘Speaking of Dan, how’s he doing these days? And can we invite Chris Evans round for tea? Have you not bumped into him yet, Brina? Really you need to get on that. You can’t be all high-profile LA, getting into all these hip places and not have arranged some sort of meet-up for your dear, sweet sisters with all these gorgeous men.’ Her voice came out in a rush as she tried not to linger on the Dan question, clearly wanting to keep it more as a flyaway query.

Sabrina knew her sister too well. Something was definitely going on in that head of hers.

Sabrina fell about laughing. ‘I wish I could snap my fingers and make that happen. Jeez, Amanda, if I could do that, do you not think I would have done it already? And your darling Dan is doing fine – his usual focused self,’ Sabrina said, her voice softening. She kept her gaze on Amanda, but Amanda chose not to meet it and kept her own firmly on the TV.

Dan was Amanda’s best friend and lead singer of San Francisco Beat – music’s hottest act – and, thanks to Amanda, Sabrina was their manager. Sabrina hadn’t been able to believe her luck when Amanda had sent them her way two and a half years ago. In addition to Dan, there was bassist Dylan, who was the shy type with a sweet nature; guitarist James, who had a penchant for telling jokes and never took anything too seriously; and finally you had Levi, exceptional drummer and heartthrob to many across the world.