Pittsburgh, PA
Tuesday
December 2, 2008
    News           Sports           Lifestyle           Classifieds           About Us
Lifestyle
 
The Dining Guide
Celebrations
Weddings
Travel Getaways
Headlines by E-mail
Home >  Lifestyle >  Food Printer-friendly versionE-mail this story
Food
A love story, plain and simple, inspires a film about passion, food

Thursday, November 01, 2001

By Bette McDevitt

When Melissa Martin, a dark-haired Irish-American rose, had her first Italian meal with her sweetheart's family in Pittsburgh, she was bowled over.

Melissa Martin, center, directs Scott Baio in a scene from "The Bread, My Sweet" on location at Enrico's Biscotti in the Strip.

"I came from the land of white bread and mayonnaise. At my house, where my mother was a very good cook, we passed the plates counterclockwise, we had napkins on our laps and no elbows on the table.

"The first time I ate at Larry's, there were stuffed pork chops. Now, this was not one stuffed pork chop, these were mounds of double pork chops, separated by a heap of stuffing, " she said, hands flying. "There were meatballs in sauce, and meatballs without sauce. And then there was chicken, because you never know who will want more. They said grace, and then all hell broke loose. It was a free-for-all. I thought someone was going to get hurt."

When Martin married Larry Lagatutta and his Italian ways, she went for the whole glorious loaf: the cuisine, the wine making, the lifestyle and the warm-hearted family ways. Within the last few years, Martin, a playwright and actress, realized she had something to say about it, something to add to the mix.

Her husband's bakery in The Strip, Enrico's Biscotti, provided the spark.

"When Larry began the business, I saw this beautiful rooftop garden above the bakery. Who was this person who grew tomatoes and flowers which cascaded over the building in bright red olive oil containers?"

 
 
"The Bread, My Sweet"

WHEN: 7 p.m. tomorrow.

WHERE: Regent Square Theatre on South Braddock Avenue, Edgewood.

Screening followed by Q & A with the filmmakers and principal cast members, then a reception at the Concept Art Gallery next door to theater. Singer/songwriter Rachel McCartney will perform throughout the evening

TICKETS: $20 at the reception desk of Pittsburgh Filmmakers, Oakland, Regent Square Theatre or the Harris Theatre, Downtown. All tickets will be presold. No tickets to be sold over the phone. Cash only at the theaters and cash or credit card accepted at Pittsburgh Filmmakers.


Related coverage

Baio savors 'The Bread's lead role

   
 

Bella and Massimo, as they are called in the film, had lived in the second-floor apartment for more than 40 years. But not alone. They had raised their daughter, cared for Bella's father, and shared the apartment with her brother and family over the years.

Now, Melissa and Larry became part of their extended family. She wrote her first film to honor the simple, but extraordinary Italian woman and her way of living. "The Bread, My Sweet" will open the Pittsburgh Film Festival tomorrow.

Fine Italian food flows through the film, symbolically and visually. In the title, bread means much more than it says. A good man, in Italian, is a "piece of bread." Bella tells the baker, Dominic, "You're a piece of bread, Dom, good and simple."

She has in mind her daughter, Lucca, mia dolce, or "my sweet." The message is clear, said Martin. "Go for the good man, my sweet."

There is much baking, cutting and kneading running through the film. Mounds of shredded coconut, funneled into the biscotti mix, signal a change of seasons. Snow is coming. Heaps of luscious red raspberries stirred into dough symbolize the blushing beauty of Lucca, Bella's daughter.

Food speaks for integrity, when Dom realizes he wants to leave the corporate world and take on the simple life of a baker. Watching his co-workers in the office munch on crunchy junk food and gooey candy bars, he explodes. "Won't you stop eating this plastic crap? Flour, olive oil, water, yeast, milk, cheese -- that's what we need."

Food offers hints about the story line. Dominic's brother, Pino, makes pies each day to share with Bella. The ricotta pies, brimming with rum-soaked raisins, grow smaller as Bella's appetite diminishes with illness. Bella grows weak, but continues to make daily "sangwiches" for her beloved Massimo, and to prepare food for the holidays, the Feast of the Seven Fishes for Christmas Eve, and a porcetta, a small pork roast stuffed with greens, eggs, cheese and rosemary, and, of course, mountains of meatballs.

Don Accamando operates the winepress in the basement of Enrico's Biscotti in the Strip. A group of amateur winemakers convene in Larry Lagatutta's business every fall to make wine for the next year. The winepress and the tradition date back to the 1920s. Lagatutta is the third generation who continues to make wine in the building. (Gabor Degre, Post-Gazette)

In the film, the food is art, and Lagatutta deserves the credit. He prepared all the food in the film, catered for the crew and cast, and taught Scott Baio, who played Dominic, the character based on Lagatutta, to bake.

Bella and Massimo would be happy to know that the winemaking still goes on in the basement. The same equipment has been used for 85 years, including the lawn mower motor attached by Bella's brother. The only addition has been installation of a heart-lung machine to filter the wine.

The winemakers now include a geneticist, a stem cell researcher, an airline pilot and the Lagatutta-Martin family, including their children. Seven-year-old Sammy is making his own stash. Bella would be right at home.

"Her friends included ditch diggers, congressmen, plumbers and neurosurgeons," said Martin.

Martin could probably make a film about making a film. "I had never made a film, and I didn't know which end of the camera to look though."

She needed help. Fortunately, she hooked up with Adrienne Wehr, a local producer. "I recognized in her an amazing work ethic -- she is an empathetic, giving, control freak, maniac, and she had produced the Emmy Award-winning 'Mister Rogers' Neighborhood' for many years. She thankfully agreed to join in as producer."

Wehr said she had fun along the way. "The simple and loving elements about family and food, was so rich. Melissa and I have formed a partnership for the future -- we're stronger together than we are individually -- and we have lots more distance to travel with 'The Bread.' "

Both say the film would not have been possible without Bill Hulley, venture capitalist and executive producer, who raised the funds needed to carry out the project.

Larry Lagatutta carries a wine barrel into the basement of his biscotti shop in preparation for the annual wine press. (Gabor Degre, Post-Gazette)

Baio, a Hollywood-based actor, came to Pittsburgh two days early to bake with Larry, so that he would look like a real baker when the filming began. It was touch and go at first. When Larry watched him cutting biscotti, he told him, "You cut biscotti like a girl, Hollywood boy."

By day two, after a nighttime pub-crawl, they were good buddies. Baio really learned to bake while he was here, and when he left, he said, "This movie changed my life. I am going to keep baking bread. I'm going to be a good man."

He has been calling Larry since he returned to Hollywood to compare recipes.

As Martin was looking at reel after reel of possible actresses for the lead role, she was stopped dead in her viewing by one woman, Rosemary Prinz. "I never expected to find someone who would be Bella, not just act Bella. I called Larry, and told him he had to come home."

Larry came home and sat quietly on the bed as he watched the reel. "I thought he didn't like her, and when I looked at him, he was crying. 'God, I miss her so much,' " he said.

Bella died four years ago but Martin and Lagatutta had found her again.

Bette McDevitt is a North Side free-lance writer.

Related Recipe:

Larry Lagatutta's Biscotti

Back to top Back to top E-mail this story E-mail this story
Search | Contact Us |  Site Map | Terms of Use |  Privacy Policy |  Advertise | Help |  Corrections