When I was growing up on the East coast, we'd go to my Nonna's house for Sunday dinner. It was a ritual, and it was quite like the multiplication of the fishes and loaves. There was an open invitation, and with 40+ first cousins, you could always count on there being a crowd. The numbers fluctuated, but no matter how many there were, there was always enough food.
Her sauce simmering on the stove is a memory that has the smell attached to it in my brain (you knew it had been in the works for hours...made from scratch, with big ole bay leaves and other incredible spices). There would be pasta and meatballs, lasagna, breaded artichokes, bread, olives and salumi and the list goes on. If you didn't take a heaping plate of food, she would admonish you with a stern "An empty bag can't stand up". I remember thinking on more than one ocassion, 'sure, but an absolutely full bag can't be moved!'. But, I never protested too loudly.
We've started our own tradition of a monthly pasta dinner. On the third Sunday of every month, our friends are invited to stop by our place for food and friendship. It's really fun to have a standing invitation, and this is definitely an experience that my husband and I share in equally. I'm on meatball duty and use my Nonna's 'recipe' (in finger quotes, because it was never actually written down, but it has been shared from one aunt to her daughter and one cousin to the next.
Here are a few shots of recent lasagna prep:
and another, with veggie on the left and carnivore on the right! Buon appetito!