I was sitting here looking at and thinking about all kinds of pots & pans, what they can do, recipes and wines. While I was looking at an old cast iron pot and thinking about the wine my mind suddenly transported me back to when I was a little boy and watching my gramma cooking for everyone in huge pots and big frying pans.
I was being brought up in an old Sicilian neighborhood on the near north side of Chicago at that time. My grandparents had a big apartment building which also housed their super market. Their apartment was on the first floor behind the super market and we lived in one of the apartments up stairs. My grandfather used to make wine in one of the really big basements where he had his winery. I would watch as he and his friends would all be turning a huge wheel to mash the grapes and I could see the juice coming down a trough into a huge wine cask. I still remember along a long hall which was lined with a long line of wine casks stacked three high all filled with aging wine. The scent of fermenting wine was overpowering. What a site.
On Sundays, the whole family and some close friends would all be together by my grandparents and my grandma would be making tons of pasta and sauce in huge pots & pans. She would also have meatballs, Italian Sausage, sliced Braccioli and a huge platter of fresh Italian Salad. Sometimes Gramma would fry, in an old huge cast iron frying pan, a really large amount of unbattered calamari in oil and lemon and oregano. It was to die for. The adults would be in the big dining room and the kids would be in the adjoining (old) kitchen at our own table. On all the tables there would be big cakes of Romano Cheese and cheese graters all over. When we would all be sitting down my grandpa would come and pour all of us a glass of wine. He said it was healthy, good for the blood and the heart. Of course at that age we would have rather had cola instead. But he said no cola until we drank our wine. And after dinner we would have homemade Canoli or Grenita (lemon ice).
What a wonderful era that was. We were all so happy, dressed up in our Sunday best with all the people I loved and who loved each other so much with everyone laughing happily and me being able to giggle and play with all my cousins. The boys sometimes had to sit on apple crates because there weren't enough chairs for everyone who came uninvited which in those days was an honor. The apples crates were gotten form the supermarket stock room but once again, for us it was normal. That's how everything was in the old neighborhoods. Too bad I had to snap back to the present.
Us kids would go out on the side of the building and play. I will always remember My cousins and I would slide down the fender of my granpa's new Buick limo. My father wanted to kill me but my grampa would stop him and tell him, " That'sa what the car was for." he would sit and watch us play with that expensive car and just smile because it made him so happy. That is probably why I don't remember who cleaned all those tons of pots & pans, dishes, silverware, all the platters and everything else my grandma used to create this feast. Of course, we never thought of it as a feast. This was just a normal Sunday at Gramma and Grampa's.
Come and see us at http://www.houseofpans.com.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Pots and Pans Can Inspire Dreams #2
After I wrote about a day dream I had while looking at a cast iron pot, I started to think that I have been around so much cooking all my life and all the history that goes along with it. That cast iron pot, which belonged to my wife Patti's Gramma is in our kitchen on top of a group of cabinets in our kitchen. It is among memorabilia from her Mom and Dad, my Mom and Dad, her grandparents, my grandparents, our restaurant and including her and I. It is just beautiful and quite a crowd-pleaser. I look at that pot because it was so special to my wife Patti who passed away suddenly from cancer in 2009. So that pot has special meaning to me now and it makes me think back and day dream.
This particular time I was remembering being in my Gramma's old kitchen which was right behind the butcher department in our super market with butchers and family members constantly going in and out of the swinging door because the big walk in cooler was in the kitchen also and a pot belly stove believe it or not. This particular day I remember sitting on an apple crate at the kitchen table watching Ggramma getting two huge stainless or cast iron frying pans and putting them on the stove filled half way with water. She would get two big rings of fresh made Italian sausage and place one ring it in each pan. While that was cooking she would take bruised or partially bad green peppers and clean them cut of all the bad parts and slice up the rest ( the perfect green peppers were for the customers to buy ). She did mounds of these while I watched. When the water would disappear in the frying pans she would turn the rings of sausage until browned. She would take the sausage out and put them on a platter. The crispy frying pans were filled, again, with water about a third of the way and she would stir the crispy bottom of the pans and then add all the green peppers salt and pepper. They would fry gently in the savory water until soft and full of flavor from the Italian sausage and seasoning. What an aroma!
While this was all going on Gramma would pour a cup of strong coffee and put lots of cream and sugar in it for me and then give me cut up fresh Italian bread with butter to dunk in my coffee. She would always smile at me and kiss me every chance she got. Then it was back to the green peppers because they were done and so delicious. She would cut the sausage up in approximately five inch links and put them on a very large baking sheet. She would then cover them with the green peppers stewed tomatoes, oregano, basil, black pepper, a little salt and then top it Imported Romano Cheese and bake them. The Italian bread was also in the oven getting reheated.
This would fill the whole table and the whole store would take turns having lunch all sitting on apple crates except my Grampa, he got a chair. This also was nothing special as it happened everyday. Gramma would cook what ever wasn't moving to quickly from the store. Then Gramma would let everyone working in the store that lunch was ready I got to sit with everyone because I was so little and didn't have to work. I especially liked it when my Aunts came in because they were always hugging and kissing me. But, once again I can't ever remember anyone cleaning up all the different frying pans, pots and trays she used but it must be in the back of my mind which is probably why, as an adult, my wife and I choose non stick cookware. Once again I came back to the present feeling warm inside because I was a lucky little boy for all these experiences, the delicious food and all the love.
Come and See Us At: http://www.houseofpans.com
This particular time I was remembering being in my Gramma's old kitchen which was right behind the butcher department in our super market with butchers and family members constantly going in and out of the swinging door because the big walk in cooler was in the kitchen also and a pot belly stove believe it or not. This particular day I remember sitting on an apple crate at the kitchen table watching Ggramma getting two huge stainless or cast iron frying pans and putting them on the stove filled half way with water. She would get two big rings of fresh made Italian sausage and place one ring it in each pan. While that was cooking she would take bruised or partially bad green peppers and clean them cut of all the bad parts and slice up the rest ( the perfect green peppers were for the customers to buy ). She did mounds of these while I watched. When the water would disappear in the frying pans she would turn the rings of sausage until browned. She would take the sausage out and put them on a platter. The crispy frying pans were filled, again, with water about a third of the way and she would stir the crispy bottom of the pans and then add all the green peppers salt and pepper. They would fry gently in the savory water until soft and full of flavor from the Italian sausage and seasoning. What an aroma!
While this was all going on Gramma would pour a cup of strong coffee and put lots of cream and sugar in it for me and then give me cut up fresh Italian bread with butter to dunk in my coffee. She would always smile at me and kiss me every chance she got. Then it was back to the green peppers because they were done and so delicious. She would cut the sausage up in approximately five inch links and put them on a very large baking sheet. She would then cover them with the green peppers stewed tomatoes, oregano, basil, black pepper, a little salt and then top it Imported Romano Cheese and bake them. The Italian bread was also in the oven getting reheated.
This would fill the whole table and the whole store would take turns having lunch all sitting on apple crates except my Grampa, he got a chair. This also was nothing special as it happened everyday. Gramma would cook what ever wasn't moving to quickly from the store. Then Gramma would let everyone working in the store that lunch was ready I got to sit with everyone because I was so little and didn't have to work. I especially liked it when my Aunts came in because they were always hugging and kissing me. But, once again I can't ever remember anyone cleaning up all the different frying pans, pots and trays she used but it must be in the back of my mind which is probably why, as an adult, my wife and I choose non stick cookware. Once again I came back to the present feeling warm inside because I was a lucky little boy for all these experiences, the delicious food and all the love.
Come and See Us At: http://www.houseofpans.com
Friday, February 5, 2010
Pots and Pans Can Inspire Dreams #3
There are so many different memories I can think of when I look at that old cast iron pot. It seems that they were such an important tool in all kinds of cooking that I, as a little Italian American boy, would be exposed to. All of those memories are very warm and loving. Also I just now remembered that every time I look at that cast iron pot I can always smell sweet Basil and tomatoes. With a cast iron frying pan I can smell olive oil, oregano and lemon.
In the summer time my Mom and Dad would take us all to a little town in Ohio where my Father's Parents and his brothers and their families lived. His two sisters lived in neighboring states but not too far. To me I thought we were in another country. The ride was long and on small one lane highways (There were no expressways back then). It seemed like we were going for hours without seeing a live person but it sure was pretty. Once in a while we would see a farm and an occasional cow or horse grazing. For excitement my dad would read the 'Burma Shave' signs that had a different parts of a funny limerick on them. Usually each limerick was about five signs long. Such simple fun but it was magical all the way to my Gramma and Grampa's house.
I would be ecstatic once we got there to see, kiss and hug my Grandparents. I loved everything about them and their old house except they didn't have inside plumbing. They had an outhouse which always scared me. Inside the house there were spittoons (My Grampa chewed tobacco and smoked a pipe) amoung all the old fashioned furniture.
My Gramma Rosalie would have at least five loaves of bread freshly baked and she was always canning stewed tomatoes, tomato sauce, gabanadina (eggplant based side dish), jams, preserves and whatever. She did this all through summer from the vegetables from her garden which was a beautiful miniature farm. The yard was long with a brick path down the middle and you walked between rows and rows of tomatoes, lots of basil, eggplants, oregano, lettuce, carrots Celery plus different kinds of fruit trees. She had enough to grow, cook and can to last the entire winter. She did all this while she made bread all day, cooked dinners and clean house not to mention laundry and ironing. What an unbelievable women. But, you know, she always had a smile and was always thrilled to see her family. At night time they would all play cards, Gramma included and she was terrific at it also.
Her old fashioned stove would have all different sized cast iron pots and pans on it. I would watch her start by picking tomatoes and some basil in the yard. Then we would go into the house, rinse off the tomatoes, skin them and put them into a big sieve and mash them into the holes of the sieve until all the juice and mash meat of the tomatoes was in a large pot underneath the sieve all except the seeds. I don't remember the cooking procedure. All I remember was her filling up the jars that had been boiling in big cast iron pot to sterilize them. After filling them she would put the rubber lined lids on them and boil them again until they were sealed air tight. One thing I did forget, Gramma always put one whole fresh basil leaf in each bottle of anything with tomatoes before closing them.
My memories are so strong that they have my nose filled with all those aromas.
Come And See Us At: http://www.houseofpans.com
In the summer time my Mom and Dad would take us all to a little town in Ohio where my Father's Parents and his brothers and their families lived. His two sisters lived in neighboring states but not too far. To me I thought we were in another country. The ride was long and on small one lane highways (There were no expressways back then). It seemed like we were going for hours without seeing a live person but it sure was pretty. Once in a while we would see a farm and an occasional cow or horse grazing. For excitement my dad would read the 'Burma Shave' signs that had a different parts of a funny limerick on them. Usually each limerick was about five signs long. Such simple fun but it was magical all the way to my Gramma and Grampa's house.
I would be ecstatic once we got there to see, kiss and hug my Grandparents. I loved everything about them and their old house except they didn't have inside plumbing. They had an outhouse which always scared me. Inside the house there were spittoons (My Grampa chewed tobacco and smoked a pipe) amoung all the old fashioned furniture.
My Gramma Rosalie would have at least five loaves of bread freshly baked and she was always canning stewed tomatoes, tomato sauce, gabanadina (eggplant based side dish), jams, preserves and whatever. She did this all through summer from the vegetables from her garden which was a beautiful miniature farm. The yard was long with a brick path down the middle and you walked between rows and rows of tomatoes, lots of basil, eggplants, oregano, lettuce, carrots Celery plus different kinds of fruit trees. She had enough to grow, cook and can to last the entire winter. She did all this while she made bread all day, cooked dinners and clean house not to mention laundry and ironing. What an unbelievable women. But, you know, she always had a smile and was always thrilled to see her family. At night time they would all play cards, Gramma included and she was terrific at it also.
Her old fashioned stove would have all different sized cast iron pots and pans on it. I would watch her start by picking tomatoes and some basil in the yard. Then we would go into the house, rinse off the tomatoes, skin them and put them into a big sieve and mash them into the holes of the sieve until all the juice and mash meat of the tomatoes was in a large pot underneath the sieve all except the seeds. I don't remember the cooking procedure. All I remember was her filling up the jars that had been boiling in big cast iron pot to sterilize them. After filling them she would put the rubber lined lids on them and boil them again until they were sealed air tight. One thing I did forget, Gramma always put one whole fresh basil leaf in each bottle of anything with tomatoes before closing them.
My memories are so strong that they have my nose filled with all those aromas.
Come And See Us At: http://www.houseofpans.com
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