It’s Gravy not sauce in my house

It’s Gravy not sauce! At least that is what my Nana always said. If anyone ever dared call it sauce she would quickly correct them. πŸ™‚

It's gravy not sauce

I know, I know. Italians have been arguing about this since at least the time that they began coming to America. If you see it our way, pick up the t-shirt and wear it loud and proud!

Curious about where the debate began between sauce and gravy. According to to one source, Food writer, Concetta DeLuco, “believes the confusion probably started when newly arrived Italian Americans anxious to assimilate started calling their ragu the same thing other Americans called meat sauces β€” β€œgravy.””

Either way, I remember Sunday mornings with Nana and Papa in the kitchen yelling at each other about the meat going into the gravy, who is making the meatballs, and so many other topics.

They would always be in there, fighting like cats and dogs, listening to Italian music, and making us all smile. It was there way of showing love, yes, we were all a bit crazy. πŸ™‚

However, when everyone set down to the table and the wine was poured, silence would come over the room as everyone took their first bite. From there the conversation would grow louder, hands waving everywhere. Laughter and smiles always filled that room.

So, while I will always insist that it’s gravy not sauce, I’d also argue it doesn’t matter nearly as much as those memories that I will always carry with me in my heart.

 

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