Russian by birth, Emma was the wife of a rich Milanese industrialist, Eduardo Ugolini, by whom she had three children. Her middle son’s name was Eduardo jr. Eduardo’s best friend was Antonio. Antonio was from a poor family, with no significant connections, other than Eduardo’s enthusiasm for his talents as a cook.
The Ugolinis were in the middle of complex negotiations to secure the future of the family textile business. Investors were arriving from Britain to finalise the agreement, which was to be celebrated by a dinner party at the family villa.
In reality, the preparations for the dinner party had begun several months before when Emma met Antonio, by chance, in the market at San Remo.
Antonio had prepared wonderful anti-pasti with gamberoni and cozze, king size prawns and mussels. The first course, however, was an Ukha soup, the recipe for which had been confided to him by Emma.
Ukha soup is a clear Russian soup, made with bream, spices and root vegetables. When Eduardo jr. went to taste it, he flashed an angry look at his mother.
“What have you done!” he cried.
Eduardo threw down his napkin and stood up. He left the room.
Eduardo sr turned to the guests. “You must excuse my son and his mother. They have fiery Russian temperaments.”
Emma had followed Eduardo out into the garden.
“How dare you!” He cried. “You told him our secret!”
“Don’t touch me!”
Eduardo pushed his mother away. As he did, he slipped on the edge of the pool; he fell and cracked his head.
Eduardo never woke up from the coma.
Is a recipe for soup really worth that much?
*
“Maude, have you ever eaten at Francesca’s restaurant?”
“Just the once. Not long after it opened.”
“Did you have Ukha soup on the menu?”
“No, but she did the most fabulous minestrone.”
“I never liked minestrone.”
“Then you must go to Francesca’s restaurant. Like the story, it is a family recipe passed down the generations.”
“I wish my family had recipes like that.”
“Never mind, dear,” said Maude. “They passed you down instead.”