She noticed 11 missed calls. She’d silenced her phone before the meeting, but 11 calls?

Deena was 45 minutes into her interview with Ninetta Puglisi, her Italian neighbor Ciro’s mom, when she it dawned on her that she wasn’t recording a word.

Rookie mistake.

She’d been in touch with Ninetta several times since their first impromptu FaceTime meeting. But the retired Italian chef led a pretty busy life, and as eager as she was to help Deena, she was rarely available to talk.

When Ciro had mentioned to her that his mom was coming for the weekend, Deena had grabbed the opportunity. Her girls were spending Shabbos with the Lizmans; Sunday would be a perfect time to meet with Ninetta.

They sat on patio chairs in Ciro’s backyard, Deena listening closely as the Italian woman shared industry secrets to the accompaniment of elaborate hand gestures.

“So that’s why I prefer pappardelle over tagliatelle for this recipe,” Ninetta was saying. “For a few months straight, my Sausage and Marsala Pappardelle Pasta was the most frequently ordered dish in my restaurant.”

Deena tried committing the words to memory, while at the same time debating whether to substitute the meat or the dairy in this recipe. She would have to figure out how to kosherize the dish without completely killing it.

Her brain felt heavy. It was hard to listen and concentrate, knowing she’d need to rely on her memory.

“And of course when you cook the pasta you use a lot of water, a lot of salt, and you coat the noodles in olive oil after cooking.”

I could start recording now, to at least get the remainder of the interview down. Would that be unprofessional?

She pulled her phone out of her bag. “If you don’t mind… Can I record this, so I get all the details right?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Deena entered her passcode and swiped to the left of her home screen, searching for her recorder app. At the same time, she noticed 11 missed calls. She’d silenced her phone before the meeting, but 11 calls?