Kitchen Stories - A Blog In A Pot

C could not conjure up a visual of Nan's sauce-pot, the other day 
when I offered it to him. He does, however, clearly remember
 the best gravy ever! I retracted the offer and shall keep this puppy
here for a while. Then, it'll move back to Long Island,
traveling full circle to Ronnie's abode.
♥

Mom loved to tell the story of traveling
salesmen who sold the original
Club Aluminum, door-to-door.

Any half-Italian worth her druthers remembers childhood pots of gravy simmering away for the better part of each and every Sunday. In our home, either Gran or Mom put it up in the hammered Club-Aluminum-with-a-story Dutch oven. Man, if only that pot could speak with its seventy years' worth of kitchen chatter. Back in the day, the best exchanges took place over sizzling pots 'n' pans of this or that. Collaborative cooking was grand.

Today we call gravy "sauce". It doesn't cook for endless hours. We don't make it every Sunday. We've removed the salt and lots of the oil. The garlic remains, in excess. The meats are leaner. Its aromas tantalize. 
It's still the best soul food ever. 

Sometimes, though, it might be sauce of a different variety, as was the case this a.m. We were in the mood for waffles and (link) strawberry sauce. I used Mom's pot for the first time, here on Stacey. Well, not exactly. You see, this was also the artichoke pot and my favorite veggie often arrived, all stuffed and tender, in this very vehicle. 

From Jamaica to Massapequa to Kiamesha to Rock Hill to Monticello, the tradition goes on. The possibilities are endless. The memories are priceless. And in case you're wondering...

That's a somewhat healthy cornbread, pictured in the montage. I simply added light coconut milk, dried cranberries and walnuts to a Trader's mix... delicious.

Buon Appetito. Go for a little Oscar-night Sunday sauce... the all-time best recipe.