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Quote by Mirella Sichirollo Patzer

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The Novice

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Mirella Sichirollo Patzer

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“In Naples, where pizza was invented, Fairchild tasted his first cheesy flatbread, a punishing food for first-timers, whose mouths could be scorched with hot, lavalike cheese. He was enchanted by the various shapes of macaroni. And pastries were works of history. Naples' mixed heritage over several centuries from the French, Spanish, and Austrians resulted in flaky, sweet pastries, yeast cakes drowned in rum, and deep-fried doughballs known as zeppole, each one an ancestor of the modern doughnut.”

“Elle est belle la nuit, notre ville. Elle est pleine de danger, mais aussi de liberté. Les sans-sommeil, les artistes, les assassins, les joueurs y déambulent, les bistrots, les snacks, les cafés sont ouverts. On se salue, on se connaît, entre ceux qui vivent la nuit. Les gens se pardonnent leurs vices. La lumière du jour accuse, l’obscurité de la nuit donne l’absolution. Les transformés sortent, des hommes habillés en femme parce que la nature les y pousse, et personne ne les embête. On ne demande compte de rien, la nuit. Les éclopés, les aveugles, les boiteux sortent, eux qui le jour sont rejetés. La nuit, la ville est une poche retournée. Même les chiens sortent, ceux qui n’ont pas de maison. Ils attendent la nuit pour chercher les restes, tant de chiens survivent sans personne. La nuit, la ville est un pays civilisé.”

“It was July, and we'd ordered patbingsu to share to stave off the humidity. This rendition was far more elaborate than the homespun efforts of my childhood, its base a perfect soft powder of snow slathered in sweet red beans and garnished with pristinely cut strawberries, perfect squares of ripe mango, and little cushions of multicolored rice cakes. A fine web of condensed milk drizzled over the sides, and vanilla soft serve towered high on top.”

“I stir under Zavier's arm, which shifts to my hip. Heavy and intimate and possessive. The subtle scent of him, cologne, sweat, male, reaches my nose. His body is imprinted all over mine--and what does this mean? I'd never been the focus of such ravenous want. Never imagined how irresistible its pull. Sex isn't the barely tolerable duty of procreation like Mom always insinuated. It's two human beings fitting seamlessly together. Maybe it was the dancer in me, but I'd known instinctively how to move--”