Saranak
Senior Member
Ciao a tutti!
My first memories are when I was maybe five or six, we had a fish seller that came around on a Wednesday with his barrow. It was always exciting when he rang his bell to let the women know he was there; I used to rush out of the house with my nonna and mama to see. I was always fascinated with the different fish and crustaceans, I always found the Polpi and Calamari most bizarre. The way the Polpi moved was quite alien.
I remember the smells from the kitchen, always rich and inviting. We always sat as the whole family to eat, papa would always be at the head of the table mama at the other end with the seven of us children on either side with nonna in the middle.
As soon as I was able to hold a knife safely nonna taught me (Her words still ring in my ears, "If you want a good husband Sarana you have to cook") I was the only girl of the seven. We made pasta, Gnocchi, pizza dough and the most wonderful bread.
We wasted nothing (There is a saying, if a Napulitano woman could use the moo of a cow she would), we had a small garden terrace where mama grew all the herbs that we used. Everyday we would go to the Mercato at La Pignasecca every morning before school. The smells were incredible.
Christmas and Easter were my favourites, we cooked from early morning awake at six am. The whole house smelled wonderful.
I remember Salumi hanging and the cheeses. We were not rich, Papa and his brothers worked at the docks, long hours and the pay was poor (This is 1965) sometimes a sack of this or that broke and the spilled contents was given as a kind of bonus. One of my uncles had chickens so there was always fresh eggs.
We had a huge Cantina of red wine in the kitchen, it was cheap wine but nice, papa would go with his brothers once a week to have it filled. All the time the women were in the kitchen the men would relax, drinking and playing cards; this was the way of things. I remember making Tortellini with mama for hours to make enough for the whole family, We made the food from our hearts and with love.
I carried this way of life with me all through my married life, over forty years now! My philosophy is this, if my man works hard to put the food on the table then it my duty to give him and my children the best food I can.
I have brought up my daughter in the same way and Maria is teaching her daughter the same.
In so many ways my kitchen is a typical Napulitano kitchen, I have salumi, cheeses, garlic and fresh bunches of herbs hanging form a rack that comes from the ceiling. I make everything from the raw, pasta, bread and passata. I have a marble slab that I use to make lasagne sheets, ravioli and Tortellini, that belonged to my nonna I do not use a machine for pasta I use an oak rolling pin that is over a metre long.
In short my early memories have made me the woman I am. My home always smells of food, there is always something cooking, and there is always my wooden rack hanging with fresh Pappardelle, linguine or spaghetti to dry a little.
One day I will not be able to do what I do, and that will be the saddest day of my life; from that moment I will see myself a failure as a wife and mother. However, until that day I will continue to honour the traditions of my family and home.
Grazie
Sarana x
My first memories are when I was maybe five or six, we had a fish seller that came around on a Wednesday with his barrow. It was always exciting when he rang his bell to let the women know he was there; I used to rush out of the house with my nonna and mama to see. I was always fascinated with the different fish and crustaceans, I always found the Polpi and Calamari most bizarre. The way the Polpi moved was quite alien.
I remember the smells from the kitchen, always rich and inviting. We always sat as the whole family to eat, papa would always be at the head of the table mama at the other end with the seven of us children on either side with nonna in the middle.
As soon as I was able to hold a knife safely nonna taught me (Her words still ring in my ears, "If you want a good husband Sarana you have to cook") I was the only girl of the seven. We made pasta, Gnocchi, pizza dough and the most wonderful bread.
We wasted nothing (There is a saying, if a Napulitano woman could use the moo of a cow she would), we had a small garden terrace where mama grew all the herbs that we used. Everyday we would go to the Mercato at La Pignasecca every morning before school. The smells were incredible.
Christmas and Easter were my favourites, we cooked from early morning awake at six am. The whole house smelled wonderful.
I remember Salumi hanging and the cheeses. We were not rich, Papa and his brothers worked at the docks, long hours and the pay was poor (This is 1965) sometimes a sack of this or that broke and the spilled contents was given as a kind of bonus. One of my uncles had chickens so there was always fresh eggs.
We had a huge Cantina of red wine in the kitchen, it was cheap wine but nice, papa would go with his brothers once a week to have it filled. All the time the women were in the kitchen the men would relax, drinking and playing cards; this was the way of things. I remember making Tortellini with mama for hours to make enough for the whole family, We made the food from our hearts and with love.
I carried this way of life with me all through my married life, over forty years now! My philosophy is this, if my man works hard to put the food on the table then it my duty to give him and my children the best food I can.
I have brought up my daughter in the same way and Maria is teaching her daughter the same.
In so many ways my kitchen is a typical Napulitano kitchen, I have salumi, cheeses, garlic and fresh bunches of herbs hanging form a rack that comes from the ceiling. I make everything from the raw, pasta, bread and passata. I have a marble slab that I use to make lasagne sheets, ravioli and Tortellini, that belonged to my nonna I do not use a machine for pasta I use an oak rolling pin that is over a metre long.
In short my early memories have made me the woman I am. My home always smells of food, there is always something cooking, and there is always my wooden rack hanging with fresh Pappardelle, linguine or spaghetti to dry a little.
One day I will not be able to do what I do, and that will be the saddest day of my life; from that moment I will see myself a failure as a wife and mother. However, until that day I will continue to honour the traditions of my family and home.
Grazie
Sarana x