Written for RDP, where sgeoil asks us
to get creative with the word “generous”.
Thanks, Heather! Here’s my take.
Tag: Food
RDP Wednesday: dwindle
Written for RDP, where sgeoil asks us
to get creative with the word ‘dwindle’.
Thanks Heather! Here’s my take.
RDP Thursday: broke
Written for RDP, where leapingtoes asks
us to get creative with the word ‘broke’.
Here’s where the prompt took me.
Two Tables
Today at RDP, bushboy asks us to get
creative with the word ‘feast’. Thanks, Brian!
Here’s where the prompt word took me.
Being Sicilian: A Haibun
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt
#440 where we’re asked to be creative in exactly
97 words using the word ‘heritage’. Here’s my take.
RDP Monday: gluttony
Today at RDP, sgeoil asks us
to get creative with the word.
‘gluttony’. Here’s my take.
Takeout Stakeout
Written for Esther’s “Can You Tell A Story In…..?”
#280 – exactly 30 words including the four
required prompts: ‘devious’, ‘brick’, ‘chicken’ and
‘tunnel’. The amazing graphic was created by
Kevin @ No Theme Thursday. This is my story.
Pull Up A Chair
Written for Ovi Poetry Challenge #78.
This week’s inspiration word is
“temptation”. This is my ovi.
Sticky Fingers
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle
asks us to use the photo below as inspiration
to write creatively in 100 words or less while
making every word count. This is my flash.
Buon Appetito: An Ovi Feast
Ronovan offers the inspiration “food”
for Ovi Poetry Challenge #50.
Here’s my serving; pull up a chair.
Escarole and bean
Lentils red and green
Split pea and sardine
Traditional Sicilian soup
Feather light manicotti
Cushiony ravioli
Plump cavatelli
Pasta so delicious
Flaky sfogliatella
Creamy panna cotta
Sweet ricotta cassata
Decadent Italian desserts
Bubbly iced Moscato
Heady regal Borolo
Grapey Montepulciano
Intoxicating me
NAR©2024
This is the fabulous Billy Joel with “Scenes From An Italian Restaurant”
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be use without permission. NAR©2017-present.
Tasty Balls
Written for Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge – “one day“
and Weekly Prompts Wednesday Challenge – “menu”
“Mohammedan-owned Chinese/Tai/Himalayan/Middle Eastern/Indian Restaurant” – well, you certainly don’t see too many of those in Lancaster, Pennsylvania but there it is right in the heart of the downtown dining district. This meeting of culinary minds is definitely intriguing and what an original and humorous name – ‘Tasty Balls’.
That caught my eye and gave me a good laugh as I read about the new exotic fusion restaurant in the newspaper. I wondered if my wife Judith intentionally left the paper on the kitchen table conveniently opened to the dining section for me to see. Judith has many fine attributes; subtlety is not one of them.
We met soon after I graduated college. I took a year off to backpack my way through Asia and the Middle East. Money was tight so I had to be frugal while traveling; that’s how I learned to find really good food at cheap prices.
One day while trekking through Shanghai, I stopped at a noodle and dumpling place. I was drawn to the sound of feminine laughter coming from the next table. There were two pretty blondes who looked to be around my age; I asked if I could join them and they agreed. Judith and Eunice were cousins from England on holiday. I hit it off quite well with Judith and we agreed to meet the next night for dinner. After that night we knew we wanted to be together and the rest, as they say, is history.
As I continued reading the article, I learned this new restaurant was operated by the same people who managed a nearby tea house called ‘The Barefoot Magpie’ – another place I’d never heard of. How can this be? I’ve lived in Lancaster all my life and thought I knew every place there was to eat. Obviously I haven’t been getting out enough lately.
What’s this? ‘Tasty Balls’ serves only one item: dumplings. What made it so special was the staggering number of varieties of dumplings on the menu. Now I knew without a doubt that Judith left this article here for me to stumble upon; she knows I am the world’s biggest sucker for dumplings!
Well now, let’s see what else the article says: “Extravagantly yet handsomely decorated … moderately priced … perfectly prepared dumplings … culinary delight.” My stomach rumbled and my mouth watered as I read a description of just a tiny sampling of dumplings offered at ‘Tasty Balls’:
- Jiaozi – A Chinese dumpling consisting of delicately sautéed ground meat and chopped vegetables wrapped into a thinly rolled dough-ball which is then fried to a golden brown or gently steamed.
- Xiaolongbao – A Taiwanese delicacy, this steamed dumpling has meat and broth inside. The small, succulent orb is meant to be eaten whole; one bite and the fortunate diner’s mouth is filled with liquid ambrosia.
- Momos – A staple from Tibet and Nepal, these delectable pouches are filled with yak, beef or chicken and have become an obsession with the patrons at ‘Tasty Balls’.
- Shish Barak – Middle Eastern ravioli-like envelopes filled with seasoned lamb, onion and pine nuts, these piquant squares are boiled, baked or fried and served in a warm yogurt sauce with melted mint butter and a garnish of chopped cashew nuts.
- Muthia – This Indian delight consists of chickpea flour, turmeric, chili powder, curry powder and salt bonded together with oil. Once shaped, these fritters can either be fried or steamed, depending on personal preference.
- Luqaimat – Originally from Saudi Arabia, this luscious dessert translates into “small bites”. Found in many Middle Eastern countries, this is a treat of fried dough sweetened with date syrup and garnished with sesame seeds. With a scoop of pistachio ice cream, this is a delightful end to an unforgettable meal.
I suddenly realized the newspaper was wet; either I was salivating over the scrumptious description of dumplings or I was crying tears of joy that this heaven-sent restaurant was now located in little old Lancaster. Oh, what joy, what rapture!
Judith came into the kitchen, took one look at my face and asked “What in the world has come over you?”
Holding up the soggy newspaper I exclaimed “This – as if you didn’t know, you little minx! Tempting me with an article about delectable dumplings. Well, it worked. It’s ‘Tasty Balls’ tonight!”
“Oh, I don’t think so, luv” Judith laughed. “That’s Eunice’s. She must have left it behind when she returned to the UK after her visit. That paper is from Lancaster, England!
If I had a sword I would have fallen on it.
NAR©2024
This is Ronnie Spector with “Tandoori Chicken” written by Phil Spector and George Harrison.
All text, graphics and videos are 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.
GRAVY MEAT
It’s time once again for
Friday Fictioneers.
This is how the photo
prompted me.
It was a tradition in my house when I was a kid; Mom made macaroni with gravy meat every Sunday and Thursday.
Nobody called it pasta; it was Ronzoni macaroni. And we didn’t say “sauce” either; it was “gravy”. Meatballs, pieces of pork, beef and lamb, sausages and bracciole – that’s Sicilian “gravy meat”.
Mom’s cooking was absolutely incredible. With the steamy kitchen window open just a crack, the aromas wafted out into the night, beckoning aunts, uncles, cousins and a few neighbors to dinner. Our apartment was always full.
The bright light wasn’t really necessary; everyone just followed their nose.
NAR © 2023
100 Words
This is Louis Prima and “Come On A My House”
THE CLERK
“This can’t be the right place, Alex.”
“Well, it’s the address the hotel clerk gave me and our GPS brought us right here.”
Alex and Gwen sat in their car wondering how the little yellow shack by the water could possibly be “the best fish and chips place in all of Liverpool”.
Exiting the car, they were struck by the tantalizing aroma of frying food. Grabbing each other’s hands, they ran to the front of the shack. The smell of fish and chips was mouthwatering and there were at least fifty people in line.
Damn if that clerk wasn’t right!
NAR © 2023
100 Words
This is Jubing Kristianto performing “Fish and Chips”
THE REGISTER
“Gallagher’s B&B, a beautiful old Georgian country house in Tipperary, set in lovely wooded grounds and gardens. A warm welcome combined with superb food make this gracious house a tranquil refuge for those on honeymoon, couples celebrating a golden anniversary or anyone looking for that special opportunity to get away from it all! You’ll rest peacefully at Gallagher’s!” recited my bride Fiona breathlessly.
“How do you do that??” I asked for the fiftieth time since we met.
“I can’t help having a photographic memory! It’s a blessing and a curse!” she laughed.
It had been raining lightly and getting accustomed to driving on the other side of the road was challenging. As we turned the bend, the B&B appeared before us looking exactly like something out of a Thomas Moore poem. Just then the sun broke through the clouds, a rainbow in its wake.
“Look, Dylan! A rainbow! declared Fiona excitedly. “I’m going to make a wish!”
I chuckled at her childlike enthusiasm. We entered the old but immaculate building and a kindly lady was there to greet us at the front desk. “I’m guessing you’re the Colcannons. I’m Kathleen. Welcome! Would you be kind enough to sign the register?”
Fiona giddily signed the guest book. “Ah, newlyweds! There’s no mistaking that glow about ya, lass” Kathleen said, smiling broadly. “Our last guests departed yesterday so you’ll have the whole place to yourselves.” Handing us the key to our room, we were informed that dinner would be served at 7pm.
Our room was charming with a view of the rear gardens. Just before dinner we checked out the library. It was small but offered a variety of books from ‘Time Travelers’ to the writings of Diogenes. Dinner was phenomenal – leek and potato soup for starters, then Kathleen’s own creation called Guinness beef and onion pot pie. Dessert was an amazing apple crisp with vanilla bean ice cream and a perfectly brewed cup of coffee. Exhausted and full, we retired early, looking forward to sightseeing in the morning.
The next day we were served a traditional Irish breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash, toast, marmalade and Lyons Tea. “I’m stuffed! You up for a walk?” I asked Fiona, and off we went exploring. Typical of Ireland, the day was overcast and as we walked along the path we came upon a cemetery. Slowly we weaved our way among the headstones, reading aloud the names as we went along.
“This is one for the record book of coincidences” said Fiona. “Yesterday when I signed the register I remember seeing the name ‘Guinness’ and dinner was Guinness pot pie. Another name in the register was ‘Lyons’ and this morning at breakfast we had Lyons Tea. And now here are two headstones with those very same names! That’s truly incredible!”
“It’s just your photographic memory working overtime, Fiona. Both those names are pretty common here. I don’t think it’s terribly incredible, luv.”
Fiona gave me a playful shove and we continued our walk. Strolling by the gardens, we discovered Kathleen busily gathering vegetables. “Why, if it isn’t Mr. & Mrs. Colcannon out for a morning stroll”. She proudly showed us the potatoes she’d just dug up. “For tonight’s dinner”, she explained. “A combination of mash with bacon and cabbage cooked together in butter and blended with a lovely ladle-full of cream.”
“Oh, my goodness! That sounds delicious!” declared Fiona “What’s it called?”
Kathleen looked up at us from her crouched position. “Why, I reckon it’s a name you’re quite familiar with.” Then, moving very swiftly for a large woman, she jumped up and began hacking wildly with her machete! Grinning like a madwoman, she shrieked “It’s called Colcannon!”
The last thing I remember seeing was my darling Fiona’s head roll to the ground. I was felled by an excruciating pain in my neck while Kathleen cackled hideously. Then the whole world went black.
NAR © 2023
Are you ready for
round two of
In The Groove?
Come check it out.
It’s gonna be a hot one!
https://rhythmsection.blog/
HONEYSUCKLE AND PROVOLONE
The minute she walked into my deli on Arthur Avenue, I was blown away. She knocked my socks off. Even through the crack in the storage room door I was dazzled by this profusion of red hair the color of a bright autumn day, creamy skin with a splash of freckles and captivating emerald eyes. I’ve got a weakness for gingers and I fell head over heels.
I’m Bruno Deluca – or Mr. Monotone compared to the stunning Monarch butterfly that just gaily flew into my market. I have the quintessential Italian look – walnut brown hair, coffee brown eyes and a perpetual deep tan. But I have a sparkling smile and dimples “to die for”, as my Aunt Carmella always says.
This amber goddess stood in front of the meat and cheese display, a bewildered look on her face. Here’s my big chance. I dashed from the back room and positioned myself directly in her line of vision. “Welcome to Deluca’s Salumeria. May I help you with something, miss?” [Smooth, right? Not to mention original!]
She looked up and I flashed her my trademark smile. And she smiled back, blushing winsomely. My knees grew weak when she spoke, her lilting Irish brogue a sweet surprise.
“Everything looks so exotic and delicious! I wouldn’t know what to order, even if could pronounce the names!” And when she laughed I swear I saw musical notes wafting through the air.
“No problem” I replied as I swiftly came around to her side, naming and describing all the meats and cheeses.
She smelled like honeysuckle. I smelled like provolone.
She still couldn’t make up her mind so I tried something radical. “How about I give you a few samples – on the house – if you promise to come back and buy something, even if it’s one slice of salami?”
She hesitated for a second, then laughingly said “You have a deal, Mr…..”
“Deluca. Bruno Deluca. And you are…..?”
She extended a delicate porcelain hand. “Rowan McCourt. Pleased to meet you, Bruno.”
“Rowan, eh? That’s a lovely name. What does it mean?”
Tentatively toying with her hair she said “Little Red-haired One. And what does Bruno mean?”
I shrugged and matter-of-factly stated “Brown” and we both burst out laughing!
I packed up a nice selection of sliced meat and cheese and some of my best Italian bread. “Here ya go, Rowan, and don’t forget…..”
“Oh, no Bruno! This is too much! I couldn’t possibly…..!”
“Go! Enjoy! It’s always good to have leftovers. See you soon!”
The next day I kept glancing at the door; I couldn’t get Rowan out of my head and I was disappointed when she didn’t return. True to her word, though, she was back the following morning.
“Bruno, everything was delicious!” she declared excitedly. “Now what shall I buy?”
She browsed for a minute. “That looks incredible! What is it?”
“That’s lasagna – sheets of wide pasta layered with ricotta, mozzarella, grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, sauteèd chopped beef and sausage in my homemade tomato sauce. It’s already cooked; just heat and enjoy. Would you like to try it?”
“I would indeed! You make it all sound so delicious, Bruno. My mouth is watering!”
“You won’t regret your decision, Rowan. Lasagna is one of our specialties. How much would you like?”
“Enough for a few portions, please” Rowan replied. Her smile was radiant.
“Ah, leftovers. You remembered!” I said, smiling back.
“Actually, Bruno, I was hoping you would join me for dinner tonight.”
It took me a second to remember to breath. “I’d love to” I whispered while inside I was shouting “YES! I’d love to!”
“Wonderful! Here’s my address. See you at 7:00. And Bruno, can you bring a bottle of wine and some of your fabulous bread?” Rowan asked.
I stared into her eyes and nodded mutely.
“Bruno, I’m very happy you’ll be joining me tonight.” Taking her bag, Rowan floated out the door. The slightest trace of honeysuckle tickled my nose.
NAR ©2023
Happy Birthday to my guy, my special Mr. Bill 🧡
Please join me today
In The Groove
as we conclude
Motown Memories.
What could be next?
https://rhythmsection.blog/
SIGN OF THE GYPSY QUEEN
Today Jim at Song Lyric Sunday is asking us to think about a musical group with a type of food in its name and write about one of their songs. I have chosen the Canadian hard rock group April Wine and their song Sign of the Gypsy Queen.
♛
“Sign of the Gypsy Queen” was written and originally recorded by Lorence Hud. The song became a hit in Canada when released as a single in 1973. Hud’s version appeared on his eponymous debut album. The song reached the top 5 on the West Coast, #3 on CJRW-FM in Summerside, Prince Edward Island, and peaked at #16 nationally on the RPM 100 chart.
April Wine had more success with its 1981 hard rock version of the song. It was the second single from their album, The Nature of the Beast. The song reached #40 on the Canadian Hot 100, and #57 in the United States on the Billboard Hot 100, and #19 on the Mainstream Rock Tracks.
This version has become popular on album-oriented rock radio stations, getting frequent airplay in the United States and Canada; a music video aired on MTV’s first day of broadcast. It remains one of the group’s signature songs and a live concert staple.
“Sign of the Gypsy Queen” gained a brief resurgence in popularity when it was featured in an episode of the American television series Breaking Bad in 2013. The episode, “Granite State”, received critical acclaim, and is one of the most popular episodes in the series history.
Sign of the Gypsy Queen – by April Wine
Lyrics
Lightning smokes on the hillrise
Brought the man with the warning light
Shouting loud you had better fly
While the darkness can help you hide
Trouble’s comin’ without control
No one’s stayin’ that’s got a hope
Hurricane at the very least
In the words of the gypsy queen
Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go
Get my saddle and tie it on
Western wind who is fast and strong
Jump on back, he’s good and long
We’ll resist till we reach the dawn
Running seems like the best offense
Staying just don’t make any sense
No one could ever stop it now
Show the cards of the gypsy town
Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go
Shadows movin’ without a sound
From the hold of the sleepless town
Evil seems to be everywhere
Heed the spirit that brought despair
Trouble’s comin’ without control
No one’s stayin’ that’s got a hope
Hurricane at the very least
In the words of the gypsy queen
Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go
Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go
Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Lorence Hud
Sign of the Gypsy Queen lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
| “Sign of the Gypsy Queen” | |
| Single by April Wine | |
| from the album The Nature of the Beast | |
| B-side | “Crash and Burn” |
| Released | 1981 |
| Studio | Le Manoir |
| Genre | Hard rock progressive rock |
| Length | 4:18 |
| Label | Aquarius Capitol |
| Songwriter(s) | Lorence Hud |
| Producer(s) | Myles Goodwyn Mike “Clay” Stone |
| April Wine singles chronology | |
| “Just Between You and Me“ (1980) “Sign of the Gypsy Queen“ (1981) “Enough Is Enough” (1981) | |
| Audio | |
| “Sign of the Gypsy Queen” on YouTube | |
NAR © 2023
FOOD FIGHT
Fandango asks us:
DO YOU EVER USE A MEAL DELIVERY SERVICE SUCH AS DOORDASH (OR WHATEVER LOCAL EQUIVALENTS ARE AVAILABLE IN YOUR PART OF THE WORLD)? IF SO, HOW OFTEN WOULD YOU SAY YOU HAVE MEALS DELIVERED TO YOUR DOORSTEP?
“Mom! I’m starvin’! What’s for dinner!”
“Me too, Mom! I’m so hungry! I didn’t eat all day!”
“Well, I’m hugrier than both of you! I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!”
“So what! I could eat a hippo!”
“Big deal! I could eat an elephant!”
“Kids! Please! I’ve been busy cleaning the house and doing laundry all day. I forgot to take something out of the freezer for dinner. We’ll have to get something delivered.”
“Yeah! I want Smashburger. Let’s call DoorDash or GrubHub or Uber Eats!”
“No, Jimmy! We had Smashburger last night. I wanna get Panera Bread!”
“Well, too bad, Betty. Nobody wants Panera Bread except you, right Bobby?”
“Well, I don’t want Smashburger OR Panera Bread. I want Domino’s!”
“SMASHBURGER!”
“PANERA BREAD!”
“DOMINO’S!”
“SMASHBURGER! PANERA BREAD! DOMINO’S”
“SMASHBURGER! PANERA BREAD! DOMINO’S”
“Kids! Stop shouting! I’ve got an awful headache and I’m going upstairs to rest.”
“SMASHBURGER! PANERA BREAD! DOMINO’S!”
“SMASHBURGER! PANERA BREAD! DOMINO’S!”
“DADDY’S HOME! DADDY’S HOME!”
“Hey, guys! What’s all the shouting about? I can hear you all the way out in my car. What’s going on?”
“Mommy forgot to take something out of the freezer for dinner…”
“So we’re getting DoorDash or GrubHub or Uber Eats…”
“I want Smashburger, Betty wants Panera Bread and Bobby wants Domino’s.”
“All right! Calm down! Where’s your mom, anyway?”
“She’s got a headache.”
“Again!”
“And she’s upstairs resting.”
“OK, listen guys. I’m going upstairs to check on mom. Watch a movie and be quiet!“
“I wanna watch Spiderman!”
“You’re stupid! I wanna watch Mulan!”
“I hate you! I wanna watch Super Mario Bros!”
“MOM! DAD! MOM! DAD! MOM! DAD!”
“STOP SHOUTING THIS MINUTE!! MOM AND I HAVE DECIDED. WE’RE ORDERING FROM THE DINER SO EVERYONE CAN GET WHATEVER THEY WANT FROM ONE PLACE. SIT THERE WHILE I GET THE MENU.”
“Yay!! The diner!! The diner!! The diner!!”
“I want…….”
NAR © 2023
Author’s note: Bill and I have never used DoorDash or any of the other apps for meal delivery. I tried InstaCart once or twice but wasn’t happy with the produce and/or meat that was selected for me by someone else. We will occasionally order pizza or Chinese food when I don’t feel like cooking but I’d rather make my own pizza; it’s inexpensive, delicious and easy to do. Meal delivery is a wonderful service for people who have no other option. For us it’s an additional expense we don’t need.
THE EYES HAVE IT
Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head! Such a lovely couple although the mister’s bow tie is a bit starchy.
I remember them as a kid. Do you? Back then they were the real deal – or perhaps I should say “the raw deal”.
Our moms always scolded us about playing with our food and then Hasbro messed with our heads by telling us to do just that. No wonder so many Baby Boomers are now in therapy!
Oh, the irony!
These days The Pot Heads are made entirely of plastic. I admit they’re much less messy but where’s the charm, the appeal, the joie de vie?
Such sweet memories but troubling ones, as well. Whenever we played with the real Potato Heads, there was always a side of mash with dinner that night. When I finally made the awful connection that I was eating my playmates, it was too late.
Oh, the humanity!
RIP, Mr. & Mrs. Potato Head. You gave your all for a tasty cause! 🥔
NAR © 2023
GAG ME WITH A SPOON
One of the best things about being empty nesters is not having to cook full meals every night.
Bill’s easy, always has been; he’s not the meat and potatoes kind of guy. We’re happy with soup, BLTs, burgers on the grill, my sensational ham and cheddar omelets … you get the picture.
There are some days when I feel the urge to cook and will prepare a lovely risotto or perhaps seared sea scallops over a lentil ragù. Rare but it does happen. I’m very content taking it easy these days.
But I have to draw the line at one thing: Chef Boyardee ravioli in a can. Six words that never should be put together. It’s a travesty; it’s also one of Bill’s favorites.
I was raised on pure, natural homemade Italian food. “Pasta” in a can is not food. Correction – it’s food: bad food, eye-averting food, gag-inducing food. It’s a treat for Bill to eat this staple from his childhood. He gets practically giddy buttering his bread and dipping it in the (dare I say) sauce in anticipation of that first mouthful. That, my friends, is a scene that once seen cannot be unseen.
Me? I won’t even open the can.
Gag me with a spoon!
NAR © 2023
LA FAMIGLIA
“Course One: Escarole Soup. Course Two: Manicotti and Salad. Gina, what is this – Sunday dinner or a reception for the Pope?”
My girlfriend Gina showed me a copy of the menu her mother had planned for dinner. It was a seven course feast! “Do you eat like this every Sunday?”
“No, silly – only when we have company. This week it’s my dad’s side of the family. There’s a lot a people and mom always says it’s better to have too much food than not enough.”
“Wait a second. There’s going to be other people besides your parents? Like how many?”
Gina started counting on her fingers. “About 18, maybe 20.”
“The first time I meet your parents I’m also going to meet 20 strangers and you didn’t think to warn me??”
“Oh, don’t worry. They’re gonna love you.”
“No. They’ll be employing Sicilian interrogations tactics. They’ll chew me up and spit me out. I’m Irish with blonde hair and pale skin. I don’t stand a chance!”
Gina laughed. “Oh stop exaggerating. We’re not The Mob, ya know. Just a mob!”
And she was right. I couldn’t believe the number of people that descended on her house. They were loud, funny, loving and very welcoming.
Gina’s mom set the table extravagantly, using her best dishes, utensils and glasses. And the food was incredible. Besides the soup, pasta and salad there was fresh baked bread, an antipasto, a huge platter of meatballs and sausages, two roasts, a bunch of vegetables, fennel, fruit, nuts, a slew of desserts I couldn’t pronounce and coffee. Gina’s uncles and male cousins ate like there was no tomorrow and no one stopped talking the entire time – except for Gina’s grandmother who didn’t utter a sound and stared at me with beady eyes the whole day. Honestly, that tiny woman dressed in black from head to toe scared me to death.
As the woman cleared away all traces of dinner, Gina’s dad got up, went to the cupboard and returned with a beautiful box made of highly polished wood with the finest Italian marble inlay. Placing the box on the table, he opened it to reveal an assortment of expensive imported cigars. The men lit up and a bottle of anisette appeared out of nowhere.
Gina’s Uncle Vito produced a deck of cards from his vest pocket. “Ya know how to play Red Dog, Phil?” he asked me.
“Um … it’s Bill, sir. And no, I’m not familiar with the game.”
“Hey, no problem, Irish. We’re gonna teach ya. And don’t look so nervous. We may rob ya but we ain’t gonna kill ya. For some reason our Gina likes ya and if she likes ya, we all likes ya.”
While we played cards, Gina’s cousins Louie and Frankie played their accordions and the women danced; it was the most surreal and unforgettable experience of my life.
I watched as Gina’s grandmother rose from her chair. Slowly she walked over to me and looked me square in the eyes. She grinned and pinched my cheek till it was beet red. And la famiglia howled.
I swear – 53 years later her stamp of approval is still on my face.
NAR © 2023
Originally posted in 2019
Join me today At The Movies
for another interesting post
and a great music video.
https://rhythmsection.blog/
REBEL WITH A CAUSE
“Come in here please, Connor!” I called out to my son.
Connor came bounding into the kitchen. “What’s up, Mom?”
“Have you seen the bag of frozen French fries and the burgers we just bought?”
“Not since we left the store. Aren’t they in that bag on the floor by the fridge with all the other frozen stuff?”
“No” I replied. “I just looked through the bag. Funny, I could have sworn they were right on top. You know, this happened the other day; Dad couldn’t find the box of donuts or the hot dogs.”
“Did you check the receipts, Mom?”
“Yes. Everything was listed, even the missing food. Dad said he was going to call Costco but I’m not sure he did. They obviously forgot to pack those items.”
“Yeah, that store was super busy; I can see how they might have overlooked something. Well, good luck, Mom. If I can help let me know.”
“Actually Connor, there is something you can do for me when you have a minute. There’s a box of old photos you can bring down from the third-floor storage room.”
“Sure, Mom, but I was heading over to Joey’s to play video games for a while. OK if I bring the box down when I get home?”
I gave him a “thumbs up”.
I texted my husband to see if he had called Costco; he replied with an eye-roll emoji and wrote that he totally forgot about calling. “OK, no worries. I’ll handle it” I texted back. Now to call the store about my dilemma.
After speaking to a couple of people and being put on hold several times, I was assured nothing was left behind at the store. The manager said I could bring in my receipts and they’d issue a refund. That was fine with me but it still didn’t explain what happened to our lost items.
When Connor came home, he went straight into the den to watch TV. “Excuse me, bud. Aren’t you forgetting something?” He looked at me with a blank face. “My photos?”
Smacking his forehead and groaning, Connor headed upstairs. “And don’t forget to walk the dog!” I called after him.
Not even a minute went by before I heard Connor yelling for me.
“Mom! Come up here – quick!”
I raced up the stairs.
“What’s wrong? Are you OK?” I asked nervously.
“I’m fine, Mom. I heard noises in here; check this out.”
We entered a guest bathroom which we never used.
“Look what I found” he said. Balanced on the edge of the bathtub was our missing bag of French fries – half-eaten.
“What’s going on here?”
“Take a look.” Connor drew back the shower curtain. Peering over the edge of the tub was our golden retriever, Rebel, moaning. Surrounding him were the empty packages of all our missing food. He look at us with those big sad doggy eyes.
“Oh, Rebel! What have you done?” I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. “You little thief! Poor baby. Sounds like you gave yourself a nasty bellyache. C’mon boy, let’s get you to the vet. It’s gonna be OK.”
NAR © 2021
The Elephant's Trunk 