Another adventure in good eating. Beginning with my mother-in-law Marie, before she was, and sunday dinner. You can count on a ton of pasta, meatballs and sausage. On occasion, half moon large ravioli that melts in your mouth. Among her culinary accomplishments was eggplant like I never tasted. She passed on these skills to my sister-in-law Ann, who eventually did most of the cooking, while my wife did the ironing. This is all when we were single.
Sunday dinner usually found about seven of us at the table with pasta and a gallon of my father-in-law John's homemade red wine. In South Philly we called it Diego Red. John would sing a couple of old Italian songs to top off dinner. What great fun that was. I of course, after dinner, dozed off on the couch for about an hour, then my girlfriend Connie and I went to a movie.
My mother-in-law Marie, what a woman, had no easy life. She was born and raised on a farm in Italy; an arranged marriage to a South Philly Italian, native of Italy. Marie was 40 years old and unbeknownst to her, he was 70. She learned English and always worked. Her 2 daughters were her ultimate concern.
My sister-in-law Ann was a marvelous cook and a specialty of her's was stuffed olives and mushrooms. No matter how many she made, they were devoured almost instantly. May sound like small items but they took much time and work. Her husband Bob made excellent cranberries on Thanksgiving. He also made an incredible Fruit Cake. Not something you can stick in the oven and serve when it cools. It takes, from what I understand, a couple of months, requiring constant observation and cultivation. Someone once said there was only one fruit cake ever made and it keeps getting passed around; not so with Bob's, you just gotta eat it.
I hope you all understand the most critical ingredient here is LOVE. Without it, little will be accomplished.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
ITEM 4 - FUN, GAMES, SCHOOL
Hi Tech today is a challenge for every young person and amazes me how they manage to keep up with the almost daily advances. Hi Tech for us was when you got a pair of pants that had a fly with a zipper rather than buttons. You gotta believe that was progress.
Mostly, we made our own toys (no K-Mart) and mostly of wood. A toy car fueled with vinegar and baking soda that moved like a jet. Rubber band guns to play cops and robbers; homemade scooters from apple crates, a 2x4 and an old skate. Communications devices with flashlight batteries, wood, some tin and wire; of course we had to learn Morse Code. But there was always 2 Dixie cups and some string.
I scaled the corner of the two story building, which had enough of an indentation in the bricks (about every foot) for me to get to the roof and retrieve our hose balls, pimple balls and half balls. I tossed them down to my friends and we were back in business. I did not come down the same way. I negotiated to our bedroom window, then to the canopy above our front door and from there it was a piece of cake.
I made my own shoe shine box and made a little money for treats and movies. if it sounds hard, it wasn't. It was fun, challenging and a bit profitable. At that particular time I attended Catholic school (about 2+ years) and I'm certain I was a challenge to the Nuns, who made me quite familiar with the yard stick and pointer. My wisdom was lacking in those days and I didn't know when to keep my mouth shut.
On to public grammar school and my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Trimble. Magnificent. Don't recall my grades. Junior high, Vare, in South Philly - Mr.Siedel. 9th grade, also magnificent. I learned more from him than he will ever know. He failed me in 2 major subjects and rightfully so. I simply did not carry out the assignments. Actually he did not fail me, I failed him, my apologies, Sir.
Junior High - all I can say is, my sympathy and apologies to all the wonderful teachers that tolerated us.
Mostly, we made our own toys (no K-Mart) and mostly of wood. A toy car fueled with vinegar and baking soda that moved like a jet. Rubber band guns to play cops and robbers; homemade scooters from apple crates, a 2x4 and an old skate. Communications devices with flashlight batteries, wood, some tin and wire; of course we had to learn Morse Code. But there was always 2 Dixie cups and some string.
I scaled the corner of the two story building, which had enough of an indentation in the bricks (about every foot) for me to get to the roof and retrieve our hose balls, pimple balls and half balls. I tossed them down to my friends and we were back in business. I did not come down the same way. I negotiated to our bedroom window, then to the canopy above our front door and from there it was a piece of cake.
I made my own shoe shine box and made a little money for treats and movies. if it sounds hard, it wasn't. It was fun, challenging and a bit profitable. At that particular time I attended Catholic school (about 2+ years) and I'm certain I was a challenge to the Nuns, who made me quite familiar with the yard stick and pointer. My wisdom was lacking in those days and I didn't know when to keep my mouth shut.
On to public grammar school and my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Trimble. Magnificent. Don't recall my grades. Junior high, Vare, in South Philly - Mr.Siedel. 9th grade, also magnificent. I learned more from him than he will ever know. He failed me in 2 major subjects and rightfully so. I simply did not carry out the assignments. Actually he did not fail me, I failed him, my apologies, Sir.
Junior High - all I can say is, my sympathy and apologies to all the wonderful teachers that tolerated us.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
ITEM 3 - FOOD & WAR
Food, a different meaning and a little short then; in the 30s - lack of money; in the 40s - war. Ration stamps for food. Everything was rationed. Top of the list was Butter, Coffee, Meat, of course gasoline and tires. The introduction of Margarine with that obvious orange dot to squeeze and manipulate 'til it looked like butter. Each family was alloted stamps according to their number. I was always the family shopper and I did go to a super market (rare find) but can't remember the name.
There were air raids with the sky filled with searchlights, but thanks to our military and leaders, our country was never touched. Exclusive of Hawaii and Alaska which were not yet states. My father was an air raid warden, he could not serve in the military. When he was twelve he was hit by a truck which left him with a silver plate in his head and a silver bone in his thigh. So, he became a welder at the Sun Ship Yard in Chester, PA. The unstoppable Joe the Barber. At the end of the war was laid off from Sun, got on a bus and got a job at the Gulf Oil Refinery that same day.
The war years - little red wagons and trash picking once or twice a week, by my friends and me. Collecting every recyclable item we could find - tin, copper, lead, rubber, rags and newspaper for the war. Of course we made enough money at the junk yard for a saturday matinee and maybe a box of Good & Plenty.
Saturday matinee, wow. Always a great feature film plus, "Joe McDoaks" , "Heckle & Jeckle" , "Laurel & Hardy", "Spy Smasher", "Captain Marvel", "The Bowery Boys", "The Lone Ranger", just loaded with Chapters and Short subjects. "The News Of The Day", uncensured clips of the war and in 1945 the horrible films of Nazi concentration camps.
At the end of the war we had many, many block parties to celebrate. First VE Day then VJ Day. Lots of food, music and dancing under the Christmas lights strung across the street from house to house. The women made all kinds of food which were laid out on many tables. There was soda for the kids and beer for the adults. That was our block, but every street in South Philly did the same thing.
Before that, FDR was my hero and I had to see him in-person. I played hookie from school when I was eleven to see him on South Broad St. in front of South Philly High. I wanted to touch his hand but chickened out when I got within 15 feet of his open limo. In his famous black cape and long cigarette holder he looked at me and smiled. He wasn't wearing his funny black hat on his way to the Philadelphia Naval Yard to give a speech. I was sad he did not live to see the war end.
There were air raids with the sky filled with searchlights, but thanks to our military and leaders, our country was never touched. Exclusive of Hawaii and Alaska which were not yet states. My father was an air raid warden, he could not serve in the military. When he was twelve he was hit by a truck which left him with a silver plate in his head and a silver bone in his thigh. So, he became a welder at the Sun Ship Yard in Chester, PA. The unstoppable Joe the Barber. At the end of the war was laid off from Sun, got on a bus and got a job at the Gulf Oil Refinery that same day.
The war years - little red wagons and trash picking once or twice a week, by my friends and me. Collecting every recyclable item we could find - tin, copper, lead, rubber, rags and newspaper for the war. Of course we made enough money at the junk yard for a saturday matinee and maybe a box of Good & Plenty.
Saturday matinee, wow. Always a great feature film plus, "Joe McDoaks" , "Heckle & Jeckle" , "Laurel & Hardy", "Spy Smasher", "Captain Marvel", "The Bowery Boys", "The Lone Ranger", just loaded with Chapters and Short subjects. "The News Of The Day", uncensured clips of the war and in 1945 the horrible films of Nazi concentration camps.
At the end of the war we had many, many block parties to celebrate. First VE Day then VJ Day. Lots of food, music and dancing under the Christmas lights strung across the street from house to house. The women made all kinds of food which were laid out on many tables. There was soda for the kids and beer for the adults. That was our block, but every street in South Philly did the same thing.
Before that, FDR was my hero and I had to see him in-person. I played hookie from school when I was eleven to see him on South Broad St. in front of South Philly High. I wanted to touch his hand but chickened out when I got within 15 feet of his open limo. In his famous black cape and long cigarette holder he looked at me and smiled. He wasn't wearing his funny black hat on his way to the Philadelphia Naval Yard to give a speech. I was sad he did not live to see the war end.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
More Pasta Sauces
Begin your journey through the world of Pasta Sauces. Fear not. It is your kitchen, your taste buds. If you need more details of any specific recipe, contact me. ENJOY!
CHECK IT OUT IN PASTA SAUCES.
CHECK IT OUT IN PASTA SAUCES.
A little tike in South Philly.
From when I was 3-1/2 years old I did the marketing. The cop on the corner crossed me back and forth across a heavily traveled street, Snyder Avenue. Well, not that heavy, there weren't many cars, but by the time I was seven I managed to get hit by one. Well, I actually hit him. (Poor guy was scared as hell. I let out a few moans just for sympathy. A few visits to the clinic fixed up my arm fine and I got a double decker ice cream cone from the driver).
I was told if an item went up a penny I argued with the grocer and occasionally won. Shopping was daily then, you know, no refrigerators or freezers, just an ice box.
True, I mostly hung out with the girls, played hop scotch, jacks and with Dixie Dugan paper dolls. Most birthday parties I attended I was the only boy. So "post office" and "spin the bottle" made me designated kisser. Somebody had to do it.
I moved on to "kick the can", "half ball", "buck buck" and many other games. If this is beginning to sound like the land of OZ, it was. Simply remember OZ was not without its challenges and my book has no place for the negatives.
We moved from the Government Subsidized housing in the Tasker Homes project to a rented home on Bancroft St., it was marvelous. My father renovated to a degree that made the landlord ecstatic, at my father's expense and labour. My father was a master barber but many other things. Jack of many trades, plumbing, electricity, masonry, carpentry, he was unstoppable.
I did have chores, marketing, emptying the water pan under the ice box, stoking the fire to heat the house with our coal furnace, taking the ashes out, cleaning the kitchen and bathroom every saturday, to earn movie money.
Haven't talked much about mom. She was a shy, quiet woman but you wouldn't want to tick her off. She was the anchor and glue that held our family together. When we needed something she always found a way and eventually we bought a house across the street from where we rented. She was sort of a magician that could make something out of nothing.
I was told if an item went up a penny I argued with the grocer and occasionally won. Shopping was daily then, you know, no refrigerators or freezers, just an ice box.
True, I mostly hung out with the girls, played hop scotch, jacks and with Dixie Dugan paper dolls. Most birthday parties I attended I was the only boy. So "post office" and "spin the bottle" made me designated kisser. Somebody had to do it.
I moved on to "kick the can", "half ball", "buck buck" and many other games. If this is beginning to sound like the land of OZ, it was. Simply remember OZ was not without its challenges and my book has no place for the negatives.
We moved from the Government Subsidized housing in the Tasker Homes project to a rented home on Bancroft St., it was marvelous. My father renovated to a degree that made the landlord ecstatic, at my father's expense and labour. My father was a master barber but many other things. Jack of many trades, plumbing, electricity, masonry, carpentry, he was unstoppable.
I did have chores, marketing, emptying the water pan under the ice box, stoking the fire to heat the house with our coal furnace, taking the ashes out, cleaning the kitchen and bathroom every saturday, to earn movie money.
Haven't talked much about mom. She was a shy, quiet woman but you wouldn't want to tick her off. She was the anchor and glue that held our family together. When we needed something she always found a way and eventually we bought a house across the street from where we rented. She was sort of a magician that could make something out of nothing.
Monday, August 23, 2010
ITEM 1: Cook book or history?
I call this a cook book but it is more. Not really about me, but about my time. Life in the 30s and 40s was quite different but occasionally I will go beyond that . The ultimate goal of most was a house and plenty of food and never go to bed hungry, and I didn't; so I relate food to all I have experienced. Every visitor was greeted and offered something to eat and drink. If there was nothing available my Mom sent me to the bakery 2 blocks away for donuts and put on a pot of coffee, French pastry or Danish. There were 9 siblings on my father's side and 5 on my mother's and 90% all lived within walking distance of each other in South Philly. Call it OZ if you like, but remember, OZ was not without challenges. My book is not the place to present the negatives.
Aunts, Uncles and Cousins, some would visit almost every Sunday. They bought me a 5¢ icecream cone, penny fudge or candy dots on a strip of paper, wax lips and so many other treats. I am grateful to them all, mostly for their presence. My Aunt Linda for cakes and pies; Aunt Jean for Polish Bow cakes and taking me in when I ran away from home for 6 hours. My Uncle Charlie and Uncle Mike for their great humor and teaching me humor to be "the true spice of life".
The Trevelinos had many skills and talents and the DeLiberatos were blessed to be designers of clothing, artists and musicians. My Great-Uncle Arthur designed coats and suits for the Duke of Windsor when he visited the USA. My mom designed and created wedding gowns for half the women in our family and her friends. We were close. My grandfather sang off-broadway in Gilbert & Sullivan English operas. Uncle Reds(Levino), a national Checker Champion. Uncle Angelo head of the board of psychology for the Philadelphia schools system. I can go on and on.
I would like you to join me on a journey to the past while you anticipate your frugal budget, remember - plan, shop, cook and package. I will offer tidbits of experiences that I hope you will find entertaining and amusing. My high school English teacher once told me I had the potential to be an excellent writer if it weren't for my grammar, spelling and limited vocabulary. But I won't let that stop me.
Aunts, Uncles and Cousins, some would visit almost every Sunday. They bought me a 5¢ icecream cone, penny fudge or candy dots on a strip of paper, wax lips and so many other treats. I am grateful to them all, mostly for their presence. My Aunt Linda for cakes and pies; Aunt Jean for Polish Bow cakes and taking me in when I ran away from home for 6 hours. My Uncle Charlie and Uncle Mike for their great humor and teaching me humor to be "the true spice of life".
The Trevelinos had many skills and talents and the DeLiberatos were blessed to be designers of clothing, artists and musicians. My Great-Uncle Arthur designed coats and suits for the Duke of Windsor when he visited the USA. My mom designed and created wedding gowns for half the women in our family and her friends. We were close. My grandfather sang off-broadway in Gilbert & Sullivan English operas. Uncle Reds(Levino), a national Checker Champion. Uncle Angelo head of the board of psychology for the Philadelphia schools system. I can go on and on.
I would like you to join me on a journey to the past while you anticipate your frugal budget, remember - plan, shop, cook and package. I will offer tidbits of experiences that I hope you will find entertaining and amusing. My high school English teacher once told me I had the potential to be an excellent writer if it weren't for my grammar, spelling and limited vocabulary. But I won't let that stop me.
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