My dear friend Sandy shared a family tradition with us this year that was a staple in her childhood. Her grandmother (Nonni as she was called) would make the most wonderful, fun, competitive dinner for the entire family on the night of winters first snow storm.
You never called.
Your were never invited.
You just knew to show up at Nonni's house at 6 pm on the first snow.
Period.
End of conversation.
The meal consisted of polenta spread on a large wooden board
And covered in super scrumptous italian grandmother homemade sauce (or gravy depending on how you were raised calling it), meatballs and sausage.
Enough said.
What makes this dinner so much fun, is that no one has a plate. Only a spoon and fork. You must eat the polenta carving a path to the meat.* Only then, when you have shoveled to the center, could you partake in the meaty goodness.
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| Girls waiting for their junior version. |
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| Sandy explaining the rules. |
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| Ready. Set. Eat! |
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| Thank heavens for "uncle Jim's" babysitting services with allowed for |
*Sandy complained that the board she had was too small. Since it was a rectangle those of us on the side got to the meat faster. Thus, "winning". She kept telling us how perfect Nonni's board was, but thats' a WHOLE 'nother story.