Salami through the ages

Years tick over with crazy speed sometimes, and it can be hard to place a memory in its correct time slot.

Thank goodness for metadata, and a computer which tells me when a photo was taken.

("We always say thank you for metadata" - The Information Management student in me).

2011

Even while the years flash past, it's comforting to know that the rhythms of tradition give meaning to different seasons and stages.

The heart of winter is salami time.  Nonna sends out the phone call announcement, someone old and responsible (obviously not me) organises the meat pickup from the butchers, a date is set, and various family members trickle in.

Even before the birth of the Cooking With Nonna project, I was there with my camera to capture a family tradition which has literally been carried from generation to generation, Italy to Australia.

Dropping in: Pasta Carbonara

Dropping in on Nonna unexpectedly is always an adventure.  Especially if you've managed to arrive at lunch time (completely unplanned, I assure you).



 While most of us are used to grabbing a quick sandwich, or heating up last night's leftovers, lunch at Nonna's is The Meal Of The Day.

(The perks of being a retiree....)

Lunch times at Nonna's always include something made fresh and hot, straight from the pan or oven. 

And today is no exception.  Nonna happens to have some bacon and mushrooms on hand, combined with several things always handy in her fridge/pantry (cream, shallots and penne pasta).

I'd also like to point out the shiny new frying pan/skillet Nonna is using to fry all of this deliciousness.  This was a gift from my mother and aunty, because they've learned that a cooking utensil in Nonna's hands is the gift that keeps on giving.

Amen.

At this point, words cannot describe the aroma coming from this simmering sauce.

There's nothing that makes a grandchild feel more loved than being told to 'come anytime', including lunchtime, and knowing that Nonna has the frying pan ready, the pasta on hand, and an empty place at the table just for you.

Buon appetito.   

Amaretti di Palma

I love looking through Nonna's recipe scrap book (and it's definitely a scrap book).  Lots of little bits of paper with cryptic recipes, written in that distinctive handwriting, some English words mixed in with dialect and 'proper' Italian.

It brings back memories of Italian school, learning about those special action words you only find in recipes. "Sbattere!"

The best part is seeing all the different names of aunties, cousins, and mysterious strangers pop up on the recipes they've shared with Nonna.

We made Zia Palma's amaretti, and I sincerely believe that crushing the almonds through the sauce/salami maker is what makes them taste so wonderfully good.

One month since Christmas

Christmas in my world revolves around the birth of my Saviour, sparkly decorations, some crazy gift shopping, family time and home cooked food.

This year we all went back to our childhood Christmas Day place... Nonna's house.  My Christmas lunch

was haunted by memories of the boys claiming the turkey drumsticks, wrapping paper under the couches, posed photos under the gum trees with new presents and the smell of percolating coffee.

2013, and the boys still got the turkey drumsticks. 

We can't forget Easter...

Even though it was over a month ago, Easter time is important when you are Cooking With Nonna.

When Nonno and Nonna were living in the village in Italy, Easter was really the biggest holiday of the year on the Italian Catholic calendar.

My family has always come together for a big lunch on Easter Sunday.  We have Nonna to thank for this tradition, and although I can't speak for the whole family, I know that Nonna has infused into me a sense of the joy and thanksgiving spirit of Easter.  She always provides us with gifts, family time and of course a special meal... this year I was at Nonna's the day before making lasagna and other goodies.  But that's another post.

Down in the shed, the lasagna has just finished cooking.