When we arrived back at the trattoria, we unloaded the produce and were straight into service. It was the busiest I’d seen it so far, with tourists taking refuge from the heat and lingering longer than usual. Friselle Salentine was by far the most popular dish throughout the day. A double baked bread topped with fresh farm tomatoes and rich olive oil, perfect as a large snack to freshen the palate and satisfy the hunger.
Things had died down by mid-afternoon, and Matteo was out the back of the trattoria in the alley, seated on a brick wall, smoke in hand.
‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ I said, sitting next to him.
‘I don’t. Not often. Just after a stressful day. Want one?’
‘No. Not for me.’
He shrugged and took a deep drag, holding on to the smoke before exhaling it slowly.
‘Busiest I’v
