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Later that day, around seven o'clock, Ragazzo swept up the
pavement in front of the shop whilst Signor Battista stood at the door enjoying
the evening calm. The street cleaners had been through clearing High Holborn of
the thick white dust which lay in the streets each summer and the air was
fresher and sweeter. It had been a long hot day in the kitchen and it was good
to get away from its cloying sweetness.
"Just fancy," said Battista almost to himself, "Just fancy,
Prince Bertie took one of my silvered drops. What a fuss the Signora made about
it all, eh Ragazzo?"
Ragazzo who had listened all afternoon to the Signora's story
and was tired of it, nodded. Just then a hansom cab came slowly down the other
side of the street. A lady was gazing intently at the shop numbers and as she
reached number 129, Ragazzo heard her say in a loud haughty voice, "That's the
shop Madge was talking about. She says the chocolate's excellent."
The cab came to a halt a little further down the street and in a
moment two fashionably dressed ladies, one tall, one small, descended and
crossed the road.
"Customers, Ragazzo. Finish off now." Ragazzo hurried inside
followed by Battista.
"Wait here, cabbie," they heard the lady say, and
then the ladies entered the shop.
"Bueno Sera Signora", said Battista,
bowing slightly. The two women seemed taken aback.
"Good evening my man.
We've had your drinking chocolate recommended and would like to try some."
"Yes, certainly. You want the cake, Signora, or the paste?"
The smaller
lady looked confused.
"I don't know. Rose what do you think?"
Seeing that drinking chocolate was new to them, Battista
explained, "You can buy it in a loaf or cake like this - solid. You break off
what you need for each serving. Or there's the paste. Ragazzo, fetch the
paste."
Ragazzo produced a little china pot and revealed the thick
chocolate paste inside. "Or there is this very super fine powder - cocoa."
The two ladies conferred.
"The cake is from Grenada, the Bahia paste from
Brazil and the powder is blended, mainly Mexican."
The ladies still found it difficult to choose and understanding
they knew nothing of the process Battista said "Attende Signora, I will show
you. Please sit, sit. I make you some chocolate. Get the chocolate pot,
Ragazzo." Hurrying into the kitchen Ragazzo brought out a chocolate pot and a
kettle of boiling water from the hob.
"Now I make for two. We try the paste - two tablespoons of the
paste in the chocolatiere, pour on the boiling water - and for that you will
need the molinet." He held up a little stick with a pierced knob at the end,
then handed it to Ragazzo who began to beat the mixture strongly. In a moment
Battista took the pot to show them. "When it froths like this, you must put it
back on to the heat and when the chocolate rises you need a few drops of eau
d'orange."
Ragazzo took the pot into the kitchen to heat it and when he
returned, Battista shook a few drops of orange flower water over the top of the
chocolate. "And there you have it. Fit for a king!" He poured the chocolate
into the cups. He was beaming with pleasure at the opportunity to show off his
knowledge and skill.
But the two ladies sipped gingerly. "It's rather bitter," said
Rose. "I like it," said Alice. "It's very nutritious, Signora, good for the
health. It restores. You, you say it revives." "And the price?" "The cake is
four shillings a pound, the paste two and six for the pot and the Superfine is
five shillings." He turned to the counter, "and perhaps you would like some
eating chocolate, or some of these bonbons." He was just about to tell them
about Prince Bertie, when he saw the tall lady rise.
"Four shillings, five shillings!" That's preposterously
expensive. I had no idea."
"What about the paste?" said the other.
"Certainly not, Alice. Not at that price. It's all this foreign stuff. They put
up the prices, you know." And then, as if Battista and Ragazzo were not there,
she added "I thought they were trying to get round us with all that foreign
charm. Come along Alice, the cab's waiting. We've wasted enough money on the
cab as it is." And as Battista tried to speak, "No, not today thank you."
For a moment Alice lingered at the door, and then they were
gone. Quiet, gentle man that he was, Battista stood silent for a moment, the
sound of the cab trotting away in the distance. Then his anger broke. "Jesu,
who are those people to treat us so, to doubt my word and to question my
goods." Ragazzo stood silent beside him.
"Ignorant people who have no
understanding of the time, the skill and patience, yes, and the love you need
to make chocolate." Together they stared at the empty cups.
"Fit for a King I said, and so it was. You know, Ragazzo, the
chocolatiers of the Blenio worked for Kings - at Court in Milan and Turin and
in Paris, like Luke Corazza's Great Uncle Giacomo ... and these two English
ladies ... not ladies for they were not true gentilissima, they dare to come in
here and question the quality of my chocolate."
By now Battista was shaking with anger and Ragazzo was shaking
with tears at the insult to his master.
"Ciao, Battista." Carlo came into the shop from the kitchen.
"Time to close the shop." But seeing something was wrong, he came closer. "What
ails you?" Haltingly, Battista described the incident.
"You must forget it," said Carlo, "Forget it, or you must learn
to live with it. And you, Ragazzo, must dry your tears. I've never known an
Englishman who can abide a foreigner. Make use of us, yes, make friends no ..."
He sighed, "It's strange. Yes it's strange and yet I like them." And then he
said abruptly "But what does the Prince's Chocolate-Drop Maker care for them?"
He put his arm round Battista's shoulder. "Come now, Ragazzo will make us some
fresh chocolate and we'll drink the Prince's health."
Over the frothy drink with its sweet orange flower scent, Carlo
produced a letter from his pocket.
"Well, Battista, I've news for you. A
letter from my big brother."
"From Giuseppe?"
"Guess what he says,"
Carlo chuckled as he unfolded the pages and read, "He and Giovanni are
preparing to sell up in Paris and move to London! Knowing my success in
business here he hopes for my brotherly assistance in the setting up of a new
enterprise. Well, well that's a turning of the tables. My big brother asking
for my help."
"But why should he leave Paris?"
"Conditions remain
unsettled. You remember how disturbed Giovanni was by the fighting in Paris
when he came in '48?"
Ragazzo did remember Signor Giovanni's lurid tales
of fighting in the streets and burning at the barricades.
"And now they
have a new disaster - a blight is sweeping across Europe affecting the chestnut
trees."
"Chestnuts?" "Yes, a good part of the brothers' trade is in nuts
in Les Halles. They say here they've had good reports of England. The Great
Exhibition has been reported widely. They see Britain as a progressive
industrial nation." Carlo laughed again, "And what do you suppose their new
enterprise to be?"
Both Battista and Ragazzo looked baffled.
"They
mean to start a chocolate factory."
"A chocolate factory? But what do they
know of chocolate?" Carlo read from the letter again. "We hope your partner,
Battista Bolla will give us the benefit of his advice. There, Battista, you
will advise my brothers - those brothers who thought young Carlo a ne'er do
well and cast him out of the house."
It was hard for Ragazzo to imagine this huge, friendly man as an
outcast, but it came to him suddenly that perhaps this was why Carlo had such
sympathy with those who fell on hard times. He smiled across at his master.
Little did he know what changes the brothers Giuseppe and Giovanni would bring
to his life.
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