“Red Sauce, Italian Style!”
I’ve been spoiled. Growing up in an Italian home was all about family. You know, that principal of life where you stick together through thick and thin, blood is thicker than water; you have a problem with one of us and you have a problem with all of us.
If that wasn’t good enough my Grandma and Grandpa came strait from the “Old Country.”
Pride would not allow them to stay in my house unless they worked for their keep, so Grandma did all the cooking.
I’m talking homemade goodness!
When I got up in the morning a giant pot of red sauce would already be bubbling by 6:00 am. She would prepare each daily meal with the red sauce in mind.
For an example: Monday was pork roast, and a portion of it made its way into the sauce. Tuesday may have been peppers and sausage, Wednesday night could have been veal, Thursday was rump roast, Friday, who knows, but each night a portion was saved and made it’s way into that thick red sauce.
Hand pressed garlic filled the air along with a flood of aromas that set your stomach growling, and saliva flowing.
Even the curtains absorbed the heavy scented fragrances until the following week, and then it started all over again. Man, I sure miss her cooking.
Many a time I would be riding my skateboard up our cement driveway, and strait into a “noodle jungle” we once lovingly called the patio. Hand cut pasta hung from the patio roof by the hundreds in all shapes and sizes.
I was the envy of my neighborhood.
Well, that does it. Time to break out the old red sauce recipe. I’m hungry!
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