One summer while visiting Canandaigua I asked Grandma to show me how to make pasta. I had eaten and loved the great meals my family made but DNA notwithstanding I soon realized there was more to it than the cookbook provided. So taking time for something I missed as a teen was important.
In typical Grandma fashion she agreed to help me on this quest. She said, “I teach is good – you do, is better.” So armed with instructions and a list (potatoes, flour, eggs, cheese, butter, oil) I shopped and returned to Grandma’s kitchen prepared to make gnocchi.
She made the best – working all day in a kitchen – and we ate them so quickly. Now, I would begin to learn what I had missed. The way she studied the potatoes (“ones that cry a little are best for pasta”) she whispered.
She gathered the ingredients and pronounced them, “Not bad (humph!)” and gave me an apron.
We measured flour in mounds with our hands.
We pinched salt.
We made a little hole for the egg.
We boiled and riced hot potatoes.
We went to the garden and picked ripe tomatoes.
We laughed and told stories.
We ate “a little something.”
We had “una bicchiere di vino” (juste, juste).
We made a mess in the kitchen.
While I finished skimming the last few batches of gnocchi from the pot and melted butter, oil and cheese, Grandma started cleaning dishes. “Leave those Grandma, I’ll do them after,” I said. “You’ve done enough dishes in your life you must be sick of that chore.”
She turned off the water and came to the table. She wistfully looked out the window at her beautiful garden then back to me as she sat. Now I can’t remember Grandma sitting in her kitchen very often, she was motion machine. So I prepared to listen.
“One year when I was young, like you Diana, I was busy – and my back ache. I was cooking dinner and my back ache. I just had the 2 bambinos Renato and Rita and they needed me. Rita was crying and my back ache. I put the dishes in the sink and I said a prayer to God – Please God, I got so much to do – husband, babies, dishes – if you take away this back ache, I’ll never complain about washing dishes again as long as I live.”
“I tell you the truth -- I finish the dishes, my back no hurt. I feed the baby, my back no hurt. The next morning I get up, my back no hurt! I say ‘Thank you God!’ and I never complain about the dishes.” She smiled, we laughed. She took off her glasses, wiped a tear and put her glasses back on.
We enjoyed a wonderful meal.
I cleared the table and as I put the dishes in the sink I said, “I’ll take your promise as a prayer and a promise to God and Grandma. If I never have a backache I’ll never complain about doing dishes.”
Weeks later I was in a hospital bed, broken neck in traction, but “miracoloso” no back ache resulted. Thank-you God and thank you Grandma and I never complain of having to do the dishes.
