Manuscripts/Mixed Material [Italian Feed]
Writers' Section Files
DATE: SEP 21 1940
The woman was sitting at the kitchen table feeding small pieces of meat, onion, garlic and spinach to a food grinder. She was well over fifty. As she spoke and worked, her long gold earrings bobbed and swung.
“I'm getting a dinner ready for a party of twelve people. All from Montpelier. Not Italians. Italians know how to make their own Italian dinners. These are Americans. In the winter I get about two orders a week for good-sized dinner parties. In the summer, not so many. They like to get out then in their cars and stop at different places to eat.”
She had finished grinding the food. It was a soft brown-green [mass?]. This she seasoned with salt, pepper and crushed mint leaves.
“This is the filling for the ravioli," she said. "Always they want ravioli for their dinners, and some want spaghetti at the same meal. Me, I think it is foolish to have both at the same dinner. They're almost the same except that the ravioli are stuffed. But if that's what they want— me, I don't care. I means more money for me—”
She cleared the table and tacked a heavy white oilcloth over it. She rolled to a very thin sheet a rather stiff pastry made of eggs, flour and mashed boiled potatoes.
“I been doing this kind of work for ten years or so. Since my husband died. Quite a few women in Barre earn money this way.
“It's a funny thing — In Italy I was always to busy to think much of food. I lived in the Lake Como district up north. Our house was on a hill outside the city. My two sisters and me would go to the city every