Gianni Chinnici was a fine man, a representative of all that is good and honest in the best of Sicilian men, and it was my honor and my pleasure to be able to call him a friend. He died on July 19th, and I will miss him.
We met Gianni through his step son, Fabrizio Ricotta, the man who owned Friends Pizzeria, and who kept us from starving our first year here. Fabrizio was always warm and welcoming to us in his restuarant, and often would pull out a bottle of his mother's home made lemoncello for us to have an after pizza drink. We also met Fabrizio's wife, Gabriella Chinnici (also Gianni's niece), at Friends, and they truly did become friends of ours.
When Fabrizio decided to close the pizzeria and sell it to someone else to run, he invited us to the closing party. We sat across the table from Gianni and Giovanna, and much to Fran's surprise, I decided to say something in honor of the pizzeria after everyone had eaten. Fabrizio had told us that we were there representing his customers, so I tried to speak on behalf of the customers who would miss his good pizza and his friendly smile. I started by apologizing for not speaking Italian well, but I hoped that people would understand what I had to say.
When I sat down, Gianni told me that everything I said was true, especially the part about not speaking Italian well. Then he smiled and laughed.
Later, Gianni and Giovanna came to our house for pranzo, which was prepared by another friend of theirs, Jack Vassallo and his wife Marianna, two folks from Montreal Canada who were here to start an import export business. Jack was an experimental chef, and he brought over a bunch of possible products, and he took over our kitchen and made pranzo for Gianni, Giovanna, Fabrizio, Gabriella, their children Michela and Sergio, Jack and Marianna's daughter Veronica, and of course for Fran and I.
Gianni took great pleasure in our new canary, Lemoncello I, and talked with Fran about her garden, and took Fran for a walk to show her where to get fresh, wild greens that are especially liked by canaries, and that help them sing more.
That was the first of many times that we broke bread with them, including once out in the country at his little farm, and another festive occasion at their house, and several times at Fabrizio and Gabriella's house. Gianni always had a quick smile, stories of old Sicily, and a wonderful acceptance of my inability to speak Italian.
When Fran died, they worked hard to comfort me. And now it is my time to try to comfort Giovanna. She too is a wonderful woman, and I join her in missing her wonderful husband, Gianni.
Addio Gianni, we will miss you.
