I Miss Angie

A distinct flavor of my grandmother’s pasta fagioli ran over my taste buds today. Nobody made it like Gram. In fact, no one – no, not even my wife or mom – could cook like Angie, just ask Susan. Gram lived to the ripe old age of 95. I’m convinced it was her liberal -LIBERAL – use of olive oil. Her eggplant parmigiana was other worldly. I’m convinced she could give her meatball recipe to anyone but nobody could duplicate the way hers tasted. Oh yeah, and garlic. It could go into anything.

Susan and I lived with Angie for a few months when we came back up from Philly. I will never forget how she cursed the hours Susan worked. She’d sit by the front picture window and look for the bus to pull up to the bus stop. “Ah, va a Napoli” or some similar Italian expression she’d say as she shuffled off to get dinner on the table. Old fashioned, but her own woman.

She was literally one in a million. I miss you Gram.