Oct 6, 2023·edited Oct 6, 2023Liked by Christina Loff
Oh my goodness, yes! You resurrect a thousand memories! My wife is Sicilian, her grandfather a chef in the war. When we were a young couple he would arrive with an armful of groceries for us, and invite us for supper the next night. (they were down stairs) NO lie, at maybe six the next morning, wonderful smells would waft up the back hallway. By supper there would be a lovely cooked chicken, stuffed artickoke, maybe some grilled, seasoned eggplant, fresh Portuguese bread from the bakery across the street. The plates would be licked clean. A Michelin restaurant couldn't compete. Love, food, family--is there more? Christina, thanks for a wonderful post!
I'm back at Vazzy's in Bridgeport, Connecticut. It's East Coast humid August. Stuffing my face with twin stuffed lobsters and getting drunk on chianti with my mom and dad, loving the feeling of being in real summer and feeling rooted. I love your writing and how it always transports me to a place, a feeling. Thank you!
Oh my goodness, yes! You resurrect a thousand memories! My wife is Sicilian, her grandfather a chef in the war. When we were a young couple he would arrive with an armful of groceries for us, and invite us for supper the next night. (they were down stairs) NO lie, at maybe six the next morning, wonderful smells would waft up the back hallway. By supper there would be a lovely cooked chicken, stuffed artickoke, maybe some grilled, seasoned eggplant, fresh Portuguese bread from the bakery across the street. The plates would be licked clean. A Michelin restaurant couldn't compete. Love, food, family--is there more? Christina, thanks for a wonderful post!
I'm back at Vazzy's in Bridgeport, Connecticut. It's East Coast humid August. Stuffing my face with twin stuffed lobsters and getting drunk on chianti with my mom and dad, loving the feeling of being in real summer and feeling rooted. I love your writing and how it always transports me to a place, a feeling. Thank you!