When I was a kid, the Fourth of July always found me at the Italian family's gathering to celebrate the birth of the nation's independence and the birth of Uncle Tom, favorite bachelor uncle. He lived on a small farm property outside Rochester, NY, and the back yard was set up with long folding tables beside the bocci and croquet areas. As great aunts and uncles arrived, the tables' offerings grew to include Aunt Carmela's baked lasagne, (if, truly, taste lives in memory, this one lives in mine) grilled steaks, chicken, Italian hots, bread, bread, bread, salads, fruit and cookies.
At this point, I'd take a break to poke around his dishevelled house. He had lots of dough, but not much 'stuff'. His gigantic Maranz speakers, however, were a wonder to me, as was his trumpet (which he played fairly badly in the community band), and that stack of taboo Playboy magazines.
After my annual inspection, I'd return outside to the now cranked strawberry ice cream. Incredible sensory memory that will always bring him back to me, and his delight in serving it. The recipe's in the photograph. Enjoy!
No comments:
Post a Comment