Blackhumouristpress's Blog

September 9, 2009

Italian Chef Fire Chief

Italian chef fire chief
Now the lieutenant from the Chicago Fire Department, tenth battalion of the north west side, called Mort over by holding his palm up and pushing his index finger back and forth.
“I think you should know what kind of stuff goes on in your apartment building, sir.” Said the lieutenant in his clean white shirt and tie.
Mort suspected body parts of a serial killer or nude pictures of children. Mort braced himself for the worst. Once inside the second floor apartment that belonged to a doctor of philosophy from Northwestern University, was found mountains of newspapers that formed tunnels. Newspapers up to the ceiling in neat stacks. Mort followed the lieutenant through the tunnels to a bedroom in the back.
One of the bedrooms was used to sleep in and the other was used to store plastic.

Plastic.

Most of it made from carbon, which was drawn from petroleum. In the bedroom, packed to the ceiling were plastic milk jugs, two liter bottles, discarded household products and plastic grocery bags. The bags were being saved for years since the professor had lived in the apartment for over thirty years. Had these bags decomposed, they would have turned into pieces of plastic and then fine dust. The professor was worried about this dust eventually harming wild life and getting into the water or food chain and so he saved all his plastic. The papers were for reference.
It is true that plastic bags hang from trees and then find their way into streams and rivers and then eventually the oceans. Most people use the bags to cart home groceries and then later fill them with dog shit and never stop to think where the plastic eventually goes. Most swirls around like soup in the oceans… For a long time.
“What kind of a sick fuck does this?” Asked the lieutenant of Mort, as he tried to use his body weight to push open the bedroom door.
The plastic heated up from the intense heat of the fire and had melded together to form a ball of plastic. The milk jugs and old vinyl items got really warm and stuck together but did not melt. The smell was pretty strong and the fumes were really not that good to inhale. One of the firemen climbed across the mountain of plastic until he got to the window and used his pick axe to break open the windows in order to get fresh air.
The professor was not home. He was at work working on a computer. When the computer becomes obsolete, he will donate it poor inner city schools so that poorer children in Haiti or Cote d’ivoire, don’t smash the computer to retrieve valuable pieces of the inner components while at the same time, exposing themselves to harmful particulates that fill the air.
Say what you will about the professor but for all his inner demons, he knew what was killing the planet. As a recycler, the professor was first rate.
Mort was perplexed by the lieutenant’s anger. The lieutenant was more angered by the squirreling away of plastic than the actual fire. The lieutenant chewed his gum in a circular motion and could be heard breathing through his nose as if he had obstructions necessary to clear out. Between the gum chewing, loud breathing and the twitching mustache, all left Mort annoyed. The clencher for Mort was having to endure the strong scent of garlic on the lieutenant’s breath. The whole fire crew had just been at the fire house twenty minutes earlier and the lieutenant was preparing a delicious marinara sauce with garlic bread, soaked in butter. They were just minutes away from dinner when the alarm rang. This is what angered the lieutenant most. He would have to boil a new pot of pasta. The marinara sauce was a family secret that the lieutenant was very proud of. It dated back to Italy. The other firemen thought the lieutenant was an asshole but they loved his food. Here is what the recipe called for… You can try this at home.

8 cups of peeled tomatoes or canned italian plum tomatoes
10 tablespoons of butter. Real butter not margarine.
8 small onions, finely chopped
4 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
8 slices of bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 cup of marsala
1 tablespoon of oregano
4 cups of freshly grated Parmesan or Romano Cheese
Salt and pepper at your dicretion
Add meatballs

This all goes best with red wine. The lieutenant prefers a Chianti. In fact he insists that all the firemen eat his concoction with at least a half glass of red wine to help bring out the flavor.
While the fire was going on, the sauce was simmering on a low flame. No pun intended. Fortunately for all involved, the sauce and meatballs were not burned. http://www.blackhumouristpress.com

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1 Comment »

  1. […] Italian Chef Fire Chief Filed under: Short Story — blackhumouristpress @ 3:42 pm Edit This Tags: Chianti, Chicago Fire Department, Family Recipe, Fire, Italian, Mort, Northwestern University, Obsessive Collector, OCD, Plastic, Recycling […]

    Pingback by Italian Chef Fire Chief « John Mark Calahan — October 13, 2009 @ 3:46 am | Reply


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