![]() An Excerpt From "Gold Medallions"A Story by The Twin Arenas![]() This excerpt is from the autobiography of Cris Saunters, head of food for the Olympics during five administrations.![]()
"I can cook for everybody, ok?"
Is that a question? It's ok...." "Ok, no? Ok." "Ok" "100 lasagna?" "No, Ok." "Ok." "No, we have food here. We're....the food is provided. You can cook for your own team, but really, you don't have to cook for everybody here. I appreciate the gesture, though. Enjoy the Village!" "Ahhhhhhhh, not for my team." "Yes, you can cook for your team." "Enjoy the Village!" After the race, in the Chalet, I saw members of the Italian team eating fries from the concession. "Where'd you get those?" I asked, but they only rubbed their bellies and gestured wistfully to three empty chafing dishes. "Ah," I said. On my way back to the Village, I spoke with Ajmain Hussein, who was Chef de Mission for the Turks. He'd won a gold medal 28 years earlier in luge. He was eating a large plate of spaghetti. "Ajmain," I said, "Where'd you get that spaghetti bolognese?" "From the Italian team. They made spaghetti lunch for all of us. Spaghetti bolognese." "They did? What did they eat?" I was starting to become concerned about whether or not the Italian delegation had eaten post-race. Our conversation three days earlier had been far from crystal clear. "Fruit and candy from the machine." None of the vending machines at the hill had fruit, I knew that, but was Ajmain telling me that all the Italians had eaten was candy from a coin-operated vender? Hadn't I seen them rubbing their bellies? I said good-bye to Ajmain and wished the Turks good luck in luge (they'd go on to capture bronze). I had to find out what the Italians had eaten after the competition. Arriving back to the hill, I wash shocked to find that the Italian ski delegation had piled their equipment outside the main entrance of the resort with a crude "4 Sale" sign made out of wood stuck in the snow next to it. "Fuji," I said, grabbing Hiraku Fujimoto, an old friend who writes great columns for the Tokyo Evening Standard, "Where are the Italians? How come all of their stuff is here? Alberto Miscontini is due to compete in the 50km Freestyle Cross Country Mens in..." I removed my snow gloves and looked at my watch, "35 minutes!" Fuji took off his spectacles and told me that I'd been fired. That because of my negligence regarding the post-race meal, the Italians had gone without food, and had subsequently been forced to sell their equipment and leave the games immediately. While I didn't understand any of that, I did acknowledge to Fuji that the last contact I'd had with chef Tony Cozzola had left me with more questions than answers. I officially learned of my firing about seven minutes later, in the office of IOC chairman Jacques Rogge. Fuji was the first to break the story, and even took me out for a nice meal, which helped soften the blow. I've run into chef Tony Cozzola a few times since then, at various gatherings celebrating numerous occasions. To this day, Tony swears that he didn't make spaghetti for anyone - that he made pizza. I tell him, "Tony, I SAW spaghetti noodles in the empty dishes! I saw them!" We've become great friends and him and his wife have stayed at our house many times. © 2015 The Twin ArenasReviews
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