For Katie’s 22nd birthday, she had organized a dinner with a blend of Italians and Americans alike, which included the newest au pairs from the states and their smitten Italian boyfriends. My own ragazzo, or boyfriend, Marco was there and we had a great time chattering in both languages, speaking of wine, parties and life, while making the most noise this little pizzeria had ever seen. We ordered calamari fritti, pizza with spicy salami, known as diavola, and of course, French fries.
After four carafes of red wine and enough French fries to clog an artery, we headed over to Le Dolci Crepes, a creperia just down the street from Piazza Sant’Oronzo. This was Katie’s favorite crepe place in all of Lecce, and there were plenty to choose from. The appeal lay in its owner, Oronzino, whose endless energy and obsession with Michael Jackson endeared him to her almost instantly. The second we entered, woozy from wine and unsure how we were going to fit in these handmade delicacies, Oronzino practically leapt from behind his counter to greet us. He presented Katie with a bottle of champagne for her birthday and gave her tanti baci, many kisses, to help her ring in the new beginning. Michael Jackson was played as Katie acted as DJ, and the rest of us settled into the somewhat uncomfortable chairs that provided the only seating in this tiny place.
After each of us were given a nutella filled crepe, Oronzino let Katie try her hand at making them for some of his regular customers. We all sipped champagne as we watched her fumble with the wrist movement necessary to create the perfectly shaped crepe. She had a blast and Oronzino smiled affectionately whenever she would curse in her lovely English accent.
Around three in the morning we all decided it was time for bed, and began to leave, Katie hauling the half finished champagne bottle along with her to finish off with her own boyfriend, who had just arrived from work. Oronzino made Marco and I a miniature nutella and cocco, or coconut, filled crepe for the road and, as we walked through the historic center of Lecce towards his car, we licked our fingers and agreed, we could live off crepes for life; that and diavola style pizza.