Sammi at Weekend Writing Prompt
is challenging us with the word “note”;
in exactly 72 words, this is my response.
My mother was a terrific cook; her specialty was, of course, homemade Italian food – manicotti, arancini, etc.
She left me her ‘recipe book, which was really nothing more than scribbled notes. Her ‘detailed‘ cooking instructions read: “some cheese” and a “glass” of water.
I can remember the glass she used to add water to whatever she was cooking; it was an old Flintstones jelly jar.
How I wish I had that jar!
NAR©2024
72 Words
This is “Come On-A My House” by Louis Prima
This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.
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Bet she was an amazing cook Nance! Italians always are! X
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Glad to know, you have her recipe book. Make use of it by using your coffee jar.😊
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Yes! Indeed I shall! 😊
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A bit of this, a bit of that – who needs measurements?
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Esattamente! 👩🏼🍳
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A sweet memory.
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Exactly so! Thank you, Mary.
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So much to love here, Nancy! There is nothing (in taste or aroma) like homemade Italian – I discovered later in life.
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I’m inclined to agree with you, Michele!
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🍝 😍
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My mum, bless her heart, made lovely stews and her pasties were top knotch too.
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Can’t beat a great stew, especially now that winter’s here!
Wonderful memories, Glyn.
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I remember those jars.
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I think most of us do!
Mom used it for one thing only and no one was allowed to touch it.
If it wasn’t where she last put it, there would be hell to pay! 😂
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So nostalgic, Nancy. Beautiful 💕
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Thanks so much, Grace.
It’s lovely writing about these wonderful times!
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My pleasure. Absolutely 💕
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I know that glass!
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I know you know that glass!
I’ve been waiting for you to comment;
finishing up that second cuppa, I’m sure! ☕️
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You know me sister!
I’m awake now. We had quite a few of those strewn around the kitchen, including Tweety Bird, and other little juice glasses that originally held Kraft cheeses.
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I don’t remember the jarred cheeses
but that jelly jar was mom’s secret weapon!
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Oh yeah!
The one I remembered was Kraft cream cheese and olive. This was back in the day when juice was served in little 4-oz. glasses and not 16-oz tumblers.
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I don’t think we ever had that.
My mom wasn’t exactly the cream cheese and olive type! 😂
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How funny you share two tunes with a spinning record as the video! (Both great tunes, of course. I love Louis Prima!)
So, as we have discussed prior to this one, I understand only too well this type of recipe 😉
Love your note!
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I do recall our “convo” but I totally forgot I previously chose a vid with a spinning record! Sometimes I don’t like the sound of a live performance and the album was visually appealing.
Louis Prima was a hoot! We grew up listening to this stuff …. while cooking, of course!
Thanks, Dale. You’re always welcome in my kitchen! 👩🏼🍳
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🙂
My beau refuses to use live versions of longs on his blog, too.
Yes, speaking of Louis Prima and cooking, did you ever see “Big Night” with Stanley Tucci and Tony Shaloub?
How lovely! Appreciate the invite!
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Yes! I love that movie and the two of them together are incredible to watch!
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One of my favourites!
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My Mum was a marvelous cook Nancy and made the most delicious sponge cakes … 🍰
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These are the memories we cling to, Ivor.
Thanks for sharing one with me today.
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My pleasure Nancy … a photo of mum cooking Christmas pudding
https://share.icloud.com/photos/035GNgR2HoKQ9ZFt3kNeQC6TQ
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Beautiful share, Ivor!
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What a great photo!
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Just found this in spam, D!
GRRRR!!
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I know! I’m always rescuing friends from SPAM!
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Aww, sweet memories
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Thank you, Sadje.
Those sweet memories are grand!
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Yes I understand 😍
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I cook a lot like that, when passing on my cheesecake recipe to my sister in law I was like about this much
👉🏽
👈🏽 powdered sugar. Yes, I randomly gestured in the air how much of a packet to add 😅 I should scribble that down somewhere to pass on to my ancestors, I’m sure they’ll get a kick out of it.
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Yes, I eyeball a lot of my cooking; I don’t think I’ve ever made the same meatloaf twice! 😂
My mother’s recipes are mostly memories of her in the kitchen; they are, for the most part, illegible.
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A parent who could cook, eh? Lucky girl. My mother knew the phone number of every pizza delivery place within 20 miles by heart…
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My mother was cooking before she could walk!
In a way, I envy you; I didn’t have pizzeria pizza until I was a teenager. Or a hamburger that wasn’t just a flattened meatball.
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“La cucina piccola fa la casa grande.” (A small kitchen makes a big house.)
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Certo! I would float into the kitchen as though carried by angels, my nose twitching, and I would ask dreamily “What’s for dinner?”
I think I might have a story there. 😂
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