Raviolis for Grandma...

In college, I took a Children's Literature course. It was awesome. The teacher was a lovable old curmudgeon with more opinions than Dear Abby but she knew her stuff. Anyway, for our final project, we had to write and illustrate a children's book of our own. I decided to write mine for my late grandmother who loved pigs and loved to cook. It was called: Irene, A Pig's Tail. It was, in my opinion, the best book ever. I'm not going to reiterate the story here but it was a fine homage to my late grandmother who was probably the closest relative I have that will achieve sainthood.

Anyway, all the women of the family are meeting this afternoon to take part in the ravioli-making tradition. We eat raviolis for Christmas dinner so we make all the raviolis by hand which is a fun yet grueling process that involves more than one brusied ego and ruined raviolis. Then we watch the men take turns admiring their new guns and gambling and talking about their next hit. After all, we are an Italian family.