There were many other dishes created in grandma's kitchen. She made her own pasta, I could not pronounce or spell its Italian name; I always called them "little pillows" because that's what they looked like. When tomatoes were in season, bushels of them would be delivered to the house. There was another machine to crush the tomatoes; the basement pantry shelves were lined with rows and rows of tomato paste and puree.
Dinner would not be complete without a sweet dessert. There were rich and creamy cheese fillings for the cannoli, tube-shaped pastry shells that Aunt Anna and mom would spend hours rolling, shaping, and frying on top of the stove in a large cast-iron frying pan until golden brown.
There where also many mouthwatering cookies, each better than the one before, my favorite being a little white cookie rolled in seeds. "Noke," pronounced gnawkey, was the star attraction at Christmas time; these were pastries shaped like ribbons, dipped in warm honey, and then sprinkled with powdered sugar.
My favorite dessert was a cake made only at Easter. The batter was flavored with almond oil and fresh lemons, then baked in angel food cake pans. Grandma gave many of these cakes away, so she made them in volume.
On Easter Sunday everyone flocked to the house after mass for steaming hot cups of coffee and cake instead of toast, so we started calling this cake "Easter Bread." Unfortunately, my aunt and mother never wrote this recipe down; the cake is now with Grandma up in heaven.
In 1969, my grandmother became very ill, and after major surgery, she was brought back home, but it was never the same in our house. My mom and Aunt Anna took care of her until God came to take her back; they did not want her to die in the hospital with strangers.
She was very afraid and in so much pain. I can still hear her in my mind. She is lying on the couch saying over and over, "oy vay mama, oy vay!" I would sit on the floor next to her crying, and while holding her hand I would tell her she she was going to be all right. I felt so helpless; we all did.
Then one morning I woke up to a still and quiet house. I swear it looked like a fog was rolling around the bed and dressers; I could hardly see. My mom went downstairs to check on Grandma. A few minutes latter she came back upstairs crying. She woke my dad saying, "Oh, Nick, shes gone, oh my God, she's gone."
Article comments
1 - Jordan Richardson
Tremendous piece, Jeannie. Very nicely written. Almost had me crying...almost.
Thank you for sharing.
2 - Jeannie Danna
Thank you! I am now rendered speechless seeing the beautiful way BC displayed Grandma and me. Don't worry about not crying Jordan, I'm doing that for both of us...
3 - Christopher Rose
Nice story, Jeannie, thanks for that and welcome to Blogcritics. I'm looking forward to your next one.
4 - Jeannie Danna
Thanks Mr. Rose! I'm afraid I'll run out of things to say but my husband says, "never!"...smile
5 - Clavos
Wonderful, evocative story, Jeannie; I look forward to more.
I too, was very close to my (maternal) grandmother, but because I was born and grew up in a different country, saw her only sporadically, when we would visit her in New York.
She's been gone for nearly forty years, but the memories are as vivid as ever.
Thanks!
6 - Jeannie Danna
Thanks! I am trying to keep a positive tone in my writing. BC is a wonderful site and this is the most exposure I think I have ever had. It can be a little overwhelming!
7 - roger nowosielski
I thought it was you, Jeannie when I visited your weblog on the other matter. So I'm glad then that you're about to become "a regular" here.
Write some political articles, too. I hate to be the lone ranger being attacked by all the sharks (I'm kidding).
And BTW, I do recommend Clavos for the editing job. In spite of his rather short retort to you on the Notre Dame site, he's very professional in his editorial duties and a great stylist. You're already good writing skills are only bound to get better.
So once again, let me extend my welcome.
Roger
8 - Jeannie Danna
read this I wanted to practice this morning