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Mangia! Mangia!
One was my real mother. One wasn't really my mother; she was my Uncle Gene's wife. Aunt Evelyn and I started bonding Oct. 31, 1942, the night my brother was born. I stayed with my aunt while Daddy brought Mom to the hospital so Johnny could come into this world. Auntie Evelyn and I were in the living room of their second floor apartment looking out their large bay window. From windowsills all around us, Jack- O-Lanterns with glowing orange eyes and features flickered through the darkness. Harsh ringing sounds of a telephone interrupted our quiet view of the Halloween pumpkins. Uncle Gene answered and announced to my aunt and me that I had a baby brother. It was the happiest day of my young 3- and-a-half-year-old life. I stayed with Aunt Evelyn for several days while Mom was in the hospital. As the mother of two sons, Auntie was glad to have a little girl to pamper. She read stories to me, colored and played paper dolls with me, and enjoyed dressing me up in feminine little pink dresses.
My mother too, had a special bond with Aunt Evelyn. As teenagers, even before Uncle Gene met her, they worked together in the office at Wilson Jones Manufacturing and became friends. As sisters-in-law, they grew even closer. When I was five, we left our small apartment for a house on the South Side. I liked my new home but missed my all my aunts, uncles and cousins on the North Side. In 1947, Grandma Providenza came to live with us. Almost every weekend my mother's brothers and their families visited Grandma. Now Sunday afternoon dinners around our dining room table included Uncle Gene, Aunt Evelyn, cousins Genie and Richard; and Uncle Frank, Aunt Dorothy and cousin Prudy. They were some of the happiest times of my formative years. Mom and Aunt Dorothy were stay-athome mothers.
Prematurely gray since age 20, she was a striking figure and had a knack for dressing professionally. Soon she was promoted to the Better Dress Department. A woman ahead of her time, Auntie successfully balanced home and career. She managed to be a fine mother, tidy housekeeper and a good cook. No one made a better rump roast or cheesecake than my Aunt Evelyn. Her Calabrese style sausage and potatoes became a family classic. A shrewd shopper, Auntie took advantage of sales at Carson's and wisely used her employee discount. On what Mom called a "shoestring," Auntie managed to buy nice clothes for her family and tastefully furnish their home. For my junior and senior years, I transferred to Jones Commercial High School in Chicago's Downtown. Just six blocks away from Carson's, I frequently stopped by to visit Auntie after school. Always sophisticated and smartly dressed, she was the personification of the basic-black-dress-with-pearls axiom we studied in my grooming class. I was so proud to go on break with her and have her introduce me to all the other stylish ladies who worked there. At graduation time, my mother was still recovering from several surgeries and not able to go downtown. It was "my other mother," Aunt Evelyn who shopped Michigan Avenue with me for my prom dress and graduation outfit. Whether clothes or household items, Auntie preached "Antoinette, don't buy something cheap that won't last." "Wait until something better goes on sale or don't buy it at all," was her time-tested advice. One afternoon, as a know-it-all 18- year-old DePaul University freshman, I met Aunt Evelyn for lunch. When we finished eating, I said to her, "Auntie, I have something to tell you." "What," she asked. "I smoke," I answered. "Do you have any cigarettes?" she questioned. "Yes," I replied sheepishly. "Well, give me one!" Auntie was a closet smoker, something not even her family knew about her. When Mom, Dad, Johnny and I moved to California, saying goodbye to Aunt Evelyn was no easy task. She was strong and stoic and, following her example, I was not to cry. When we all embraced for the last time, Mom cried, but I was brave and fought back my tears. Over 20 years later, I realized what my mother had known all along: that big girls cry too. These two fine women had a great influence on me while I was growing up. Mom was an old fashioned, down-to-earth homemaker. My Aunt Evelyn was a worldly, sophisticated businesswoman. How blessed I was to have them both in my life as role models. Sausage and Potatoes ala Calabrese Calabria, where Aunt Evelyn's mother was born, was a barren region of Southern Italy. Fresh vegetables were scarce and the local diet consisted mostly of dried legumes.
This favorite recipe combines potatoes with highly seasoned sausage to create a robust main dish. Diagonally cut the sausage into 2 inch pieces. Heat the oil in a large skillet. Add the meat, onion, potatoes and seasonings. Cover and cook over low heat for 30 minutes. Uncover, increase the heat, and sauté the potatoes until brown. Serves four. |
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