Pan Italiano

Whenever I pass a bakery, I think of my father. Being of Italian descent, his father was a merchant marine from, we've been told, Milan (or Sicily); our breakfast staple was 'Pan Italiano'-Italian bread.

Early in the morning my father and I would go to the Italian bakery across the street and buy a loaf from the 'fresh batch'. My mother wouldn't sip a cup of cafe without a slice of 'fresh bread'. My dad and I would hurry home, laughing, just thinking of her tapping her foot till we got there. My sisters would be sleeping, missing out on all the fun.

Always, beginning with breakfast, food was a special time with my dad. On Saturdays, I'd help him prepare a delicious veggie-filled tortilla-'omelet'. The Italian bread would be sliced, buttered with garlic and filled with thin slices of cheddar cheese and 'Genoa salami', my favorite choice, a reward for helping him.

To this day, I love 'Pan Italiano' whenever there is a feast, it brings wonderful memories of Saturday mornings with my Italian father. As, in the background, Caruso sang: 'Oh mi papa, so sweet and so dependable'...

And the story continued...the Italian baker's son was in love with my oldest sister, Carmen; every morning he'd sing 'Volare' to her. My mom said, 'Imagine, if you'd marry him, you would never be hungry'.

Remember: Enjoy your food with good memories...and listen to your mother and make your father proud...(Mangia!)

From: Our 'Italian' Front Porch...Ana & Andy.

Credit: God, sustainer of life and giver of good food.