What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner? Part II. Our Dinner.—Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
Monday, December 12, 2022
We opened the outside door, and oh, those smells. The doors to the three tenements were open, and the aromas crept into every corner. The kitchen windows were steamed from the vapors of the simmering gravy and mists from awakening radiators. Grandma was banging her wooden spoon on the rim of the pot. The meatballs sizzled in olive oil and garlic.
Grandma started her gravy, a rich tomato-based sauce with cuts of meat and spices, in the early morning because it took hours of slow cooking on the rear burners of her Barstow Stove.
GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLASTBolting two stairs at a time, I entered Grandma’s open door, hustled to the pantry, ripped the corner from the Italian bread, dunked it in her gravy, cradled it with two hands, blew on it and bit in.
I strolled into the dining room to glance at the mahogany table covered with a plain white cloth now bathed in theatrical light. Sun-splashed dishes were bracketed by knives, forks and spoons at each place. In the adjacent parlor, an arm’s length away was a smaller table set the same way and still central to the action for us children.
My grandmother prepared simple southern Italian meals. Today I realize her heroic efforts, but I never thought of how she did it in those days. She managed to prepare dinner every Sunday in a small tenement with a narrow pantry.
She was a quiet, purposeful, and efficient kitchen technician buzzing from the pantry to the stove to the dining room with a gravy-splashed apron skirting her waist. She was pleased and proud to have her family there. “Com’inna, sit, sit, itsa time to eat. Mangia. Mangia.”
The first course was an antipasto of meats, cheeses, and roasted peppers. Dumpling or chicken soup with tiny meatballs, some floating like land mines ready to explode their flavors on the way down, followed. Then came the pasta . . . homemade ravioli, gnocchi, lasagna, or manicotti. She served the meatballs, sausage, and braciole as a side dish. Stuffed artichokes, salad, and string beans accompanied the roasted chicken and crisped potatoes. Fresh bread came from the local Italian bakery. Desserts of roasted chestnuts, figs, fruits and Italian pastries complemented the meal.
Grandpa’s wine or Nehi sodas helped to wash things down. Talk, accompanied by Neapolitan songs in the distance, was unbridled.
After dinner, we went out to play while the adults sat around to continue their chatter. Though they spoke to each other daily, somehow, on Sunday, they had more to say. Though my memory of those conversations is hazy, I recall the same subjects discussed over and over, work, children, relatives, births, deaths, neighbors, etc. They laughed a lot and enjoyed each other in the simplicity of the day.
I loved those Sundays, but not until recent years did I realize how much. In some ways, life seemed better then. We enjoyed the luxury of doing nothing but eating and talking. Those Sunday dinners drew us to Grandma and family every week.
Dr. Ed Iannuccilli is the author of three popular memoirs, “Growing up Italian; Grandfather’s Fig Tree and Other Stories”, “What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner” and “My Story Continues: From Neighborhood to Junior High.” NOW, he has written his fourth book "A Whole Bunch of 500 Word Stories."
LEARN MORE HERERelated Articles
- It Was a Hot Day and Elvis Popped Up - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Taking a Lesson from the Ants - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- The Tomatoes Are Coming, The Tomatoes Are Coming - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Downsizing: It’s a Bear - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Downsizing: To the Dump, I Go - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Who Needs a Dose of Spirituality? Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- What’s to Become of Our Parades? Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- The Daily Coffee Ritual - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Honesty and Integrity; So Necessary Today. What Happened? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- A 4th of July Ritual - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- What Should I Have Done? What Would You Do? Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Downsizing: Now the Books - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Downsizing. A Wave of Nostalgia - Dr. Ed Iannucilli
- The Joy of the Grape Arbor - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Sicily Amazes - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Where Did You Get the Pies? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- My Italo Turkey Day - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner? Part I - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Your Hair Should Be Like Regis Philbin’s—Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Advice for Downsizers - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Downsizing: We Close. Stuff Appears. - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Downsizing: Less is More. Really? - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- Downsizing: We Open the PODS - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- My Connection to Royalty - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
- The Old Neighborhood Surfaces With a Thud - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli
