This is one of my favorite Easter stories….
On Holy Saturday he wore a mopine…a dishcloth tucked in his belt while he scurried about the kitchen on an Easter pilgrimage; cooking pastiera, the traditional Easter rice pie.
Dad found his recipe years before and wrote it on a 3×5 card, as if he had invented it. It became his Easter contribution, his signature dish. His hands and shirt were covered in flour. Pans cluttered the kitchen. Egg shells were stacked in the sink. The smell of baking bounced from the kitchen walls and ceiling. “Try my pastiera.” He beamed as he passed his precious offering. To my surprise, it was good, very good.