Thank you Moira for having the Comfort Food Contest. I got to relive some great memories.


Everyone has that one food that reminds them of home or their childhood. Eating it makes you feel secure & happy. The food that holds that special place in my heart (& stomach) is homemade gravy - a.k.a. pasta sauce. While everyone in my family makes an amazing gravy that's all their own, my grandmother's reigns supreme.

I have strong memories of opening the door to her house and instantly being taken over by the wonderful aromas. The combination of basil, wine, cheese & sweetness of the tomatoes would carry me down to her kitchen. I would sit and watch her chop, saute & blend it all together. I would marvel as she took the meatballs out of the oven and added them to the pot one by one. Momma was in charge of making the gravy but, Poppa was usually the one who stirred it to perfection. A very important job, indeed. It required constant attention, every 5-10 minutes for up to three hours. Poppa would stir & taste along the way, which always got him into a bit of trouble with my grandmother. Their argument/conversation usually went something like this;
Momma- "Honey, what are you doing?!"
Poppa- looking like a kid caught with his hands in the cookie jar, "I'm tasting the gravy to make sure it's good"
Momma- "You just tasted it 10 minutes ago!!"
Poppa- with a mischievous smile "I know, now it's even better!"

I never had much interest in learning how to make the gravy myself. There wasn't any need. Every time I came home for a visit my grandmother would give me a large container of frozen gravy to take back with me. Then I met and fell in love with Tom, who was a very good cook with a real interest in authentic Italian food. He was always asking me when I was going to make him a "real" pasta sauce. "GRAVY, we call it gravy," I would tell him. Well, after a couple of years, I gave in & decided to surprise him with one. I called Momma and she walked me through the entire process. She kept me calm as I freaked out over the gravy bubbling too much or not being as thick as hers. She kept telling me to stir slowly & be patient. It would all be fine.

That night when I opened the door of my apartment, Tom was standing there with a smile on his face. He could smell it in the hallway. I had finally made him a gravy. I served it just like my grandmother always did. A big bowl of pasta(cavatelli) in a generous helping of gravy, a smaller bowl of sausage and meatballs, all accompanied by fresh grated Parmesan cheese & Italian bread. He tasted it and looked up at me with tears in his eyes. I'm not kidding at all, it's true. I'll never forget what he said. "So much love went into this. I can feel it, how much you love me."

My interest for cooking and family recipes started that very night. That interest has evolved over the years into my latest project, a cookbook containing my family's secret recipes. I'm putting my heart & soul into it, just as all the great cooks in my family put their hearts & souls into all the meals they've made over the years. The centerpiece of the book will of course be my favorite comfort food of all time - homemade Italian gravy.

Posted by Dawn Falcone @ 3:18 AM 9 comments

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