Show and Tell -- A Taste of Italy

WELCOME ICLW-ERS! THERE IS MUCH GOING ON HERE AT BHB IN THE LAST WEEK AFTER, WHAT NOW SEEMS A STRANGE CONCERN I HAD ABOUT LACK OF WRITING TIME. IF YOU ARE NEW ON THE GRIEVING JOURNEY YOU MIGHT FIND AN ODD KIND OF COMFORT IN MY "BACK-TO-THE-BEGINNING SERIES". PART ONE IS RECENT, MY FIRST TIME BACK TO THE JOURNAL I WROTE DIRECTLY AFTER EMMA DIED. WHAT FOLLOWS HERE IS PRESENT DAY MUSINGS...

And Now...For Show and Tell!

I am Italian, really Italian, like - 100% Italian. All it takes is one good look at me to know it.

I married a man who, although comprised of a great many heritages, is as far from Italian as one can get. So, although my last name has long been changed to a Vermonter's monniker my love of all things Italy, expecially the food, remains.

Guilty Truth? I could eat pasta at every meal! With a good basil, cream sauce - fresh panchetta and peas and a tall glass of pinot noir to match!

Of course we don't, having a gluten free girl in the house, and its a good thing or I'd be the size of this big old farmhouse, but - even so -some of my fondest childhood memories are walking the North End of Boston with my parents.

The traditional Italian resturants...Nonnies!

The traditional Italian pastry...Mikes!

And, of course, the traditional Italian little old men sitting on random street benches speaking animatedly with both their voices and their hands!

Recently I was as a yard sale and saw a crumpled box. At first glance it looked old, but then I realized it house a brand new pitzelle maker, and the box had only sustained considerable water damage. $5 the price tag said.

And, if you read here on even a semi-consistant basis you will recall my love for all yard-sale procured, $5 and under small kitchen appliances! Ah- but this was no run-of-the-mill gadget. No, this was a traditional Italian pitzelle maker.

Just standing there looking at the box brought a delicious sensation to my mouth. I could nearly taste the vaguely licorace taste of the thin pastaries. And, although $5 was all I had in my pocket on that particular day, I bought it.

I have not been dissapointed. Nor, have I been visited by the buyer's remorse that often visits me.

Instead -- I have created these!

My father says they are (his words), "Hands down, some of the best he's ever tasted". I can't really take any credit for that, as (1) he's bound to be a bit bias as I am his daughter and (2) it is so shamefully easy to do that a blindfolded monkey could probably be trained.

Even so, I've experimented with different kinds and - so far - the neighbors (my taste testers) have had nothing but rave things to say! I've even let my mind spin so far as to think about mass production, packaging and selling in the few random stores in our little town.

For now, this delicious - if only a little bit bad for me - reminder of my heritage is enough. So, what is the rest of the class showing?