What you reap is how you sow

Risotto. It’s what Mrs Mantovani has requested. Risotto with asparagus and walnuts. Mrs Mantovani is “observing” her 80th birthday. She doesn’t wish to use the word “celebrating” since, as she says, that word generally evokes the image of a very large family and a house full of friends — of which, she now has neither.

She’s going to take advantage of the obligatory drive in the nursing home car — first to the shopping mall, where she hopes to buy herself a scarf, and then on to the riverside to sit in her fold-up easy chair beside a low fold-up table, read her Woman’s Day magazine and drink a nice hot cup of cappuccino just the way Donny, her husband, used to make it.

Donny in his living years used to be head barista at a five-star restaurant, before moving on to start a successful business of his own which is now in the capable hands of their only son Dominic.

“Now first, Dominic, you get the Arborio rice, okay, make sure it is Arborio and not Carnaroli,” she instructs him from her nursing home bed, a week before her big milestone event.

“Next you put the five cups of vegetable broth in a big vessel and make it simmer. Separately you melt butter — little butter, I have to watch my figure — in another pan. Then you put the one large onion and stir it up for two three minutes. Then goes in the rosemary, parsley and walnuts. Follow this with one clove of garlic minced and the rice and fry it for another minute. Be careful not to burn your garlic. After this, add 75 per cent of the broth, mix it all and check rice every few minutes. When the liquid is absorbed add rest of the broth.”

Dominic permits her the details although he has made this particular Risotto umpteen times. “Next, you trim the asparagus neatly. Add the stalks, but save the tips and add them only at the very end when the rice is creamy. Finally ...”

“Yes, mum, I know ...”

“Sprinkle parmesan,” they both say together, laughing.

Four generations of Mantovanis gather together on the special day near the waterside to Mrs Mantovani’s surprise. Dominic is there, his son James is there and James’ son Eros. Dominic’s wife has passed on. James and his wife are now divorced and Eros is just turning 13. Mrs Mantovani sits among them like a true matriarch, her normally flowing white tresses done-up in a neat hair-pinned bundle, enmeshed in a hairnet. She is wearing a royal blue frock that draws attention to the string of white pearls around her neck.

“It’s time to say at last, Dominic, that your risotto is better than your father’s,” she says.

“Gee mum that took a long time telling,” jokes Dominic, holding a glass of orange juice, watching the waves rippling the river’s surface.

“No seriously, this is the best risotto I’ve eaten in all the years since your father died,” she reiterates.

“Then I’m afraid I can’t take any of the credit, mum,” confesses Dominic, “the risotto-making gene apparently skipped me altogether.”

“What do you mean? You made this didn’t you?”

“James did, mum. Your grandson made it from start to finish.”

“Er, not exactly accurate, nona,” confesses James in turn, “Eros helped cut up the asparagus.”

“Ah what can I say except how special an old lady feels when family stands together and prepare a simple but special meal, eh?” says Mrs Mantovani.

Turning to Dominic she adds: “Your father always used to say to me that the famous saying was not totally accurate. Remember the saying, ‘You reap what you sow?’”

“Yes, mum,” replies Dominic.

“Your father used to say it should actually be ‘what you reap is how you sow’. Your father would be a proud man today if he’s not too busy up there and if he’s looking down now from above.”

Kevin Martin is a journalist based in Sydney, Australia.