There are a few things that, if present, will snap me right back into childhood. My mother’s call from the other room is one of them. The smell of fresh-made tomato sauce bubbling on the stove is another. This weekend, I was lucky enough to have both.
My mother took the long trip from New Jersey to Paducah this weekend, as she has for the past two Easters, to visit and to celebrate the holiday. This year, due to the serious lack of good Italian cooking ingredients in Paducah, we decided to make a manicotti and meatball dinner from scratch.