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.
Tag: Immigrants
The Bus Ride
Written for OLWG #410.
The three prompts are shown below.
This is my story.
Bones Of Steel
Introduction: More Italians have emigrated to the United States than any other people in Europe. When they first arrived, speaking no English, they learned very quickly the only jobs available to them were in sanitation and construction. They took pride in their work. The resulting cathedrals and skyscrapers dotting Manhattan are testaments to their craftsmanship and determination.
I will not lie; this is not a new piece. It’s been
whittled down from its original 746 words to
250 words for The Unicorn Challenge where
we are urged to get creative using the photo
below as our inspiration. This is my story.
La Cucina Di Mia Madre
Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge is challenging us once again
to create an amazing Six Sentence Story,
this time using the word “access”;
this is my response.
Due, no doubt, to the cold weather, I have been doing a lot more cooking indoors, eschewing the barbecue grill for simmering pots of tomato sauce, bubbling trays of lasagna and stews roiling in slow cookers – a skill which comes naturally to me since, as I have mentioned many times recently, I hail from a long line of talented cooks, with my mother topping the list; she instilled in me at an early age a love of hearty and delicious home-cooked meals and the know-how to prepare them.
Mom was a Sicilian immigrant who attended school only until the age of 9; with her own ailing mother unable to maintain their home, my mother assumed the role of nurse, cook and maid …. devastatingly unfair, but that’s the way it was in 1925 – kids forced to abandon their childhood, growing up in a hurry.
My mother and her cousins did not have access to YouTube or TikTok or cooking channels on TV; there were no cookbooks in her small apartment …. just recipes galvanized in her brain from watching her grandmother and her aunts holding court in the kitchen.
Many of the ingredients my mother used were home grown, such as vegetables, herbs and fruit, and the items that didn’t come from the ground were all bought from the local grocer and butcher, the price haggled and haggled once again until my mother was satisfied; her purchases were of the finest quality and she always returned home with change in her purse.
When I, as a kid, would come home from school or a day outside with my friends, I would always be greeted with the sublime aromas of something magical cooking; I would float into the kitchen as though carried by angels, my nose twitching, and I would dreamily ask “What’s for dinner?”
So many mornings I was awakened by the steady thump thump thump of the base of my mother’s palm kneading and pounding the dough for her exquisite double crust pizza filled with nothing but sweet, caramelized onions sautéed to golden-brown perfection; to this day after too many years and countless attempts, I still have not figured out her secret to that culinary slice of heaven.
NAR©2024
“Mambo Italiano” featuring Rosemary Clooney singing and Sophia Loren dancing.
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