I learned to cook hanging out in the kitchen with my Italian grandmother. As most Italian granddaughters will say, my grandmother was the best cook ever, my mother not so good.
My Nana was quite the character. I loved listening to her tell stories and jokes in broken English. She and I shared a bond beyond food. I would follow her from sink to stove for hours every weekend. She was my hero while growing up. I was amazed how she could cook for so many people at once. It was impressive when family relatives would drive a hundred miles each way, every Sunday, to eat her Sunday dinner. Every item was fantastic. Except all dishes with eel and squid. I avoided them. She did get me to eat Tripe, alias the lining of a cow's stomach. I liked it.
I learned so much about cooking with Nana. If she was still alive today, she and I would be great in a Reality TV show. Cooking With Nana. The new and the old ways to make a dish.
We had so much fun creating and eating. What a chubby kid I was. At nine I could make my own spaghetti sauce. She taught me basil and certain Parmesan cheeses are key to tasty meatballs. I learned Italians put both sugar and salt in a sauce that begins with salt pork, onions and garlic. The same sauce is cooked for about eight hours before it will be served. When ready, perfected sauce is poured over homemade pasta. Heaven. Pass the cheese grater and that block of Parmesan.
I remember Nana babysat for us one week while my parents were away. We had school so she stayed at our house. It was so cool. I had no idea so many different things could be cooked for breakfast before school. Usually we had cereal. With Nana, there was french toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, and the juice was always fresh squeezed.
Every day for lunch I was the envy of the cafeteria. Nana's home made meatball subs replaced mom's peanut butter and jelly. Her Eggplant Parm blew away any bologna sandwhich mom ever prepared. It was first time where the chubby kid was the popular kid. My friend Nancy gave up two packs of gum for half an egg and pepper sub. That was big. When I pulled out a dish of raviolis smothered with cheese, even teachers hovered. Friends invited themselves for supper every night Nana was over.
I remember she and my grandfather would have Apple Pie competitions every apple season. Grandpa, was a good cook himself, however Nana was way better. Besides, he was always trying to get me to eat Spam and eggs, so my trophies always went to Nana. My family benefited from the cooking competitions. Once and a while, my Aunts or one of the new in-laws would take Nana on, she would only laugh. How can you beat homemade linguine with an Alfredo to die for.
Sadly my Nana passed away before I could cook a good meal for her. Life is painful that way. It would have nice to show her I had learned so much from hanging with her in the kitchen. My family and friends always compliment every dish, and it makes me feel good when my dad compares something I cooked to hers. Still, it would have been nice to get into one of those competitions that seemed to die off when my grandparents passed. My grandfather, I could beat. Nana, no way.