At some point I learned that a young man who had shot another man in a bar fight was hiding out in the Gelati Sanson plant. Sanson sold most of his gelato in bars, cafes and restaurants. He either leased or provided ice cream freezers to his customers. In this way he was assured that the restauranteurs would purchase their ice cream from Sanson rather than from a competitor.
Apparently, the young shooter needed to get out of town for awhile. So Sanson agreed to hide him. I understood that the fight had to do with a mafia feud. Because the gunman was ensconced at the plant for a year, the administrative staff got to know him quite well.
Several months after he went back home, we received an invitation to the young man’s wedding. He was to be married in a small village near Naples in the early summer. From the scuttlebutt at the plant, it was thought that this would be the joining of two mafia families. Vincent and I decided to go. It would be an unforgettable experience.
We drove down to Naples. It’s about a 7 hour drive. We stayed in an historic hotel with high ceilings and large french windows with a view of the bay. This hotel had in-house parking which we had been told was essential. Apparently cars left out on the street at night would be found stripped of tires, windshield wipers, radios and who-knows-what in the morning.
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| A view of the Bay of Naples. |
The morning of the wedding we joined a cavalcade of cars that headed out of town, into the countryside. After an hour’s drive we came to a farm in a valley. All the cars pulled up and we went into the farmhouse kitchen. It was dark and rustic with low ceilings and a wood stove. The bride’s father offered coffee and grappa. Then the bride came in. She was quietly pretty with long blond hair and a nervous air.
Then everyone piled back in their cars and we drove up into a village on a hill. We parked on the piazza in front of the church. Many of the men went into a bar across the street and the rest of us went into the church.
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| A mountain village in the south of Italy |
After the wedding the cavalcade went down the hill and drove to the Palace of Caserta for a picture session. Are you familiar with Caserta? It rivals Versailles in grandeur. It was constructed for the Bourbon kings of Naples. Wikipedia says that in terms of volume it is the largest palace in the world. Here are a few pictures. Isn’t it grand?
After the wedding pictures, we all headed to an enormous restaurant where the reception took place. The meal began at 1 or 2 pm and went on into the early evening. There were 7 or 8 courses with time in-between to enjoy music and dancing. Of all this food, I particularly remember a sweet and sour fish dish that was sublime and la mozzarella de bufala, buffalo mozzarella, that was served simply in all its glory. It was delicious and a surprise among all the elaborate dishes.
The bride and groom were seated on a dais. I had many hours to observe them. They barely talked. The groom was drinking and laughing but the bride looked miserable. Several times I saw her wipe away tears. Was this an arranged marriage to settle a mafia feud? Did they live happily ever after?
At some point, Vincent went out to the car for something. When he came back, he was upset. All four tires of our car had been stolen. The news was communicated to our host, the father of the bride. He came over and apologized profusely. He assured Vincent that our tires would be back by the end of the reception. And they were! Probably some low-life thief was lying dead in a gutter for the embarrassment he caused our host.
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