I sometimes wonder, if the Pilgrims were Italian, would we have lasagna on Thanksgiving? Although delicious, I don't think lasagna would be a fitting Thanksgiving dinner. I've got to have the traditional turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, etc., and, of course, homemade apple pie and coffee.

But I remember visiting my grandmother when I was a child. From the moment I walked through the kitchen doorway, I could smell chicken frying in a large cast iron pan on the gas stovetop.

As soon as I sat at the enameled metal kitchen tabletop, she set a plate of crispy fried chicken before me. Grandma burned the chicken just enough, a little singe around the edges. "Tutto bruciato," as she called it. Just the way I liked it! Her timing was uncanny. How did she know exactly when I would arrive? I guess my dad must have forewarned her.

Sometimes, she would serve a side dish of sliced garden-fresh tomatoes smothered in olive oil, vinegar, parsley, and oregano.

Dessert, if I had room, was usually a tall glass of milk and Oreo cookies. Sometimes, there were Vienna finger cookies.

And she always had Bazooka bubble gum and Tootsie Rolls on hand for a special treat.

In exchange for dinner, I mowed the lawn. Grandma had an old 4-blade push mower. I clickity-clacked my way around the small backyard and made a few passes along the smaller front yard behind the forsythias. A few years later, my dad bought a gas-powered mower for me to use.

Grandma lived on the second floor of a two-family house. When I finished cutting the grass, I went upstairs and admired my handiwork from the screened-in porch. The contoured pattern in the grass was aesthetically intriguing to me.

Years later, when I learned of Frank Stella's early paintings, I remembered those patterns in the lawn. Stella's physical approach to painting was similar to my method of mowing the lawn by making a concentric path from the perimeter (of the yard or the canvas).

By now, you're probably wondering - What does fried chicken have to do with mowing lawns? And what does mowing lawns have to do with Frank Stella? And what does Frank Stella have to do with pasta? The answer is nothing.

But, getting back to my grandmother's culinary art -

When I was about five years old, she taught me how to make pasta, cavatelli to be precise.

I still remember the recipe and how to make it - mix flour, water, and an egg to a firm, doughy consistency. Take a small amount of the dough and roll it with your fingertips. Drop the newly formed noodles into a pot of boiling water.

That's the general premise of the recipe. I don't know the exact proportion of eggs to flour to water or if you need to add salt or maybe a dab of olive oil. My grandmother probably didn't know either. She just mixed the pasta until it felt right. And it was delicious!

Frank Stella, Tomlinson Court Park, 1959, enamel on canvas

© VG Bild-Kunst, Bonn 2023

Story Copyright © 2024 by Michael DeFrancesco

Cover Photo - non-copyright