That's Italian!

Some of my fondest memories of my grandmother involve the incredible aromas wafting out of her kitchen whenever I was at her house.  Whether it was blueberry buckle or rhubarb pie, homemade meatballs and sauce or pastina on a cold autumn day that woman was one hell of a cook, and you never left her table hungry, disappointed, or without leftovers stored in a Polly-O ricotta container "for later."    Holidays were insane, and we'd pull out the extra leaf in the dining room table (and throw a card table in the living room) for all the aunts and uncles and cousins and cousins of cousins and aunts and uncles who weren't really aunts or uncles at all that gathered around to celebrate, my grandmother feeding us all as if we'd never eat again, then giving us a moment to catch our breathe before dessert.  She cooked with love, and when she passed the only thing I asked for was her box of recipes, which I've never come close to replicating no matter how many times I've tried because her 'pinch of this and a pinch of that' is different than mine I guess.


Someone keeping the Italian traditions alive through her own recipes, public television cooking shows, restaurants and Eataly, the 50,000-square-foot Manhattan emporium devoted to the food and culinary traditions of Italy is Teresa Giudice Lidia Bastianich, who I almost missed yesterday morning because I had to pee so bad that I gave up waiting for her, only to see her car pull up as I got to the corner to leave.  That look on my face is part smile and part full bladder grimace.