My father dressed in his chef's apron, preparing sausage, onion ,garlic, tomato, mushroom, generous portions of cheese, and a secret ingredient to complete the sauce that he would pour over pasta. The odors filling our home promised pleasure.
I Remember...
The torment of having to say "no thank you" (a family rule) when Nonna Rosa offered her homemade oven fresh parkerhouse rolls.
I watched her grind beef, bacon, spinach, basil to add to her pasta sauce.The delicate reddish-orange color and subtle flavor was tempting but tasting it was not an option.
I was fascinated when she poured polenta into a large cloth covered bowl. She lifted out the cloth and turned it out onto a platter. We did get to taste little polenta balls filled with cheese that she made for us. Yum.
I remember....
Nonna Torlai serving a bowl of soup from a pot consisting of one carrot swimming around in flavorless broth. The soup was accompanied by a bottle of frozen pop (soda). Nonna would set the pop on the top ledge of the coal and wood stove to thaw.
Dad apparently received his cooking talent from his Dad and his story telling talent from his mom.
I remember...
The first time I baked bread, the sticky dough made smooth by kneading, the relief when it began to rise, the aroma filling the kitchen as the bread baked, waiting until it was cool enough to slice, and the satisfaction I felt cutting through the golden brown, even textured loaf. The final reward was the feast of warm bread covered with melted butter enjoyed by the family.
It makes my mouth water. Yum!
ReplyDeleteWhy weren't you allowed to taste Nona Rosa's Parker House rolls?
My Dad was very strict. He felt that since we lived close to Nonna & were a large family, it would be better to politely say "no" to any food.
ReplyDeleteI guess he was afraid that we would take advantage of her generous nature.