It’s noon on a Sunday, Frank Sinatra is playing, a bottle of red wine has already been opened, and Joey is standing over a big pot of gravy bubbling on the stove. “It’s too acidic, should I have bought the better tomatoes?” He looks at me with a flash of panic in his eyes. “Add more wine,” I say confidently like I’m an Italian grandma. A splash in the sauce, a bit more in our glasses, and stir, stir, stir slowly cooking the sausage and filling the house with an amazing smell.
Six hours later, (and a couple bottles of champagne, and a dozen bottles of red wine brought by friends and neighbors) we sit down to an amazing Italian home cooked meal. Roasted red peppers with bread crumbs and anchovies, eggplant rollatini, home-made gravy with sausage and salad, and a cake from K-town for good measure. One of the best Sunday Fundays Ive had in a while, great food and hilarious company.
Of course after dinner, the party keeps going. We are obviously professionals at getting weird.