The House of Blessings

Hey, come over here, kid, learn something. You never know, you might have to cook for twenty guys someday. You see, you start out with a little bit of oil. Then you fry some garlic. Then you throw in some tomatoes, tomato paste, you fry it; ya make sure it doesn't stick. You get it to a boil; you shove in all your sausage and your meatballs; heh?... And a little bit o' wine. An' a little bit o' sugar, and that's my trick.
-Clemenza teaching Michael to cook. The Godfather, Part I.

My Italian blood runs very, very shallow. You see I am Italian in {{{Love}}}.

My BBF, Cheryl comes from a very East Coast-Chicago Italian family. Where the cousins are named Vinnie, and you don’t mess with anyone’s Ma!...Or Else! And my little girl~blessing is Italian too.

Popo (the Patriarch of this dear family) used to say that I was from the Northern side of Italy, where the blonde's are from {{{{ LOVE THAT}}}} . Anyway, a long tradition in this cultural is “Sunday Supper” where it doesn't matter if you have surgery planned for that day, you better reschedule, cause you just don’t miss Sunday Supper! I {{{{LOVE}}} this!

This is a time where generations of family together ( a very rare thing in today’s time) where Nonie makes here “sauce or gravy “ depending on the side of tracks you are from, and you hear the same stories over and over again that will someday be passed down to your children and your children’s~ children. A time where you got the “eye” for starting to eat before mom sat down at the table.

My little girl~blessing loves that she is Italian, she loves the say the few words that she knows (I think they are all about food) and I want to pass on this treasured tradition of Sunday Supper to her.
So Auntie Cheryl and I have decided that we will be making and canning “sauce” in a few weeks …the way their grandmothers have for generations. {{{OH MAMA MIA}}}!