Excerpt from the book:
Do you remember the phrase “Sunday best”; the day when you were at your best … clothes, shoes, behavior … in preparation for church, a ride, a visit, but most of all, for Sunday dinner?
Do you remember when stores were closed for rest and relaxation? Do you remember the day of food and conversation with a meal prepared by Grandma? Then you will remember those Sundays.
The day started with church followed by a visit to my aunts, a stop at the corner where Dad met old friends, and in the summer, a trip to Roger Williams Park to the Temple to Music.
We opened the outside door and oh those smells. The doors to the three tenements were also open, and the aromas crept into every corner. The kitchen windows were steamed with mists arising from the simmering gravy and roasting chicken. Grandma was banging her wooden spoon on the rim of the pot. The meatballs sizzled in olive oil and garlic.
Grandma had started her gravy (gravy makers are possessive), 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. The Italian radio show with Antonio Pace lingered in the background…”