Of course, geography wasn't on our side and the embers of our love died. Or so I thought until I received an email inviting me to STK Miami for a little "cooking demo" with Fabio. See? He really does love me, I thought as I eagerly accepted the date.
When the day arrived, I arrived early and to my dismay, there were other people in the kitchen with Fabio and myself. I learned that this was a cooking demonstration hosted by Bertolli Olive Oil and quickly surmised that the olive oil empire had invited other people to Fabio's little dinner for two without his knowledge. I took my place directly opposite my cooking god and he began.
The other people in the room quickly evaporated away as Fabio cooked for me and only me. His dish was a pork loin and I knew what he was thinking as he masterfully manipulated his meat, all the time watching me with those smiling eyes. "You have to season your meat," surely meant, "You are more beautiful than I dreamed" and "I make peasant food", was his way of saying "I am humbled by your presence, my princess".
The heat between us was intense. Some may say it was because we were in a kitchen, but I knew it was more, much more. It was the heat of passion. The passion of making food together.
After Fabio finished his dish, he invited me to eat his pork. It was absolutely delicious -- tender and juicy. And just as I expected this dinner to turn into more -- a drink or two, possibly walking on the beach at sunset, Fabio split. Maybe the chemistry was too intense, maybe he has a morals clause in his contract. Either way, every time I put some pork in my mouth, I'll always think fondly of our brief time together.
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