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Gravy or Sauce
In my old neighborhood, there was a man who lived up the
street from me, Mr. A. He had a great big St. Bernard dog
named "King." I believe he had this dog for the
sole reason of protecting his tomato
plants. Mr. A. knew how to grow tomatoes, when and how to
pick them.
My aunt and uncle showed me how to ripen a tomato that
had been removed prematurely from the vine.
My spaghetti
sauce was my first en
masse foodstuff product. I purchased a case of tomatoes
and pounds of accompanying produce on Saturday, and spent
an entire Sunday prepping, sautéing, combining, stirring,
tasting, and eating. Afterwards, I packaged the sauce in
containers, freezing the nutrition for future eating as
well as distribution to my family and friends.
I've even begun teaching myself how to make pasta from
scratch. To be continued....
Another challenge I've taken on is alfredo. A not-so-distant
relative of mine, Q., she is the connoisseur of this gravy-sauce.
From the time she was a baby, she would slurp the smothered
pasta as if she were teating the goodness from her
mother's heart.
I know her look. I cook for that look.
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