What happens when you put seven girls between ages 1-12 under one roof in suburban Connecticut in the ’60s and ’70s? Chaos, fights over the phone, burned out circuit breakers due to blow dryer overload and general mayhem. Fortunately, there was always an underlying feeling of love. My mother Gerry, who is 88 percent Irish (thanks for clearing that up Ancestry.com) became a great Italian cook for my Sicilian dad Nick. She cooked for nine every night _ essentially a dinner party _ and never complained, though occasionally she was admonished by my father that a dish was not worth repeating. Ah, the good old days.
Today, we range in age from 60-49 and all live within 30 minutes of my mother, who is 83. Some have grown children (the oldest two are 31), while others (including me) are still in the thick of parenting teens. Now that’s tough business. I always say I wanted kids, but I didn’t sign up for this. I’ve heard they return after the rebellious stage, but seriously _ will I want them? After staying home for nearly 20 years, I’m in that weird phase of “now what?” The business world wants nothing to do with women my age _ I’m starting to get the aging actress thing. So I thought why not blog about what I love _ or don’t? I wrote for newspapers and magazines for nearly 30 years, and I still like to sit down with a good book or magazine, cook a new dish, meet a friend for chai tea or try new things (helicopter ride anyone?)
I just took a food blogging course at Gateway Community College in New Haven, CT., (thank you Priscilla Martel) in search of my writing chops. Food, inspiring people, recipes, family traditions, good reads, my causes are all fair game. Oh, the name. It’s what we called the hero (submarine, grinder, hoagie, etc.) that my mom made before every road trip. It’s somehow seemed fitting _ a solid foundation that’s a little mushy with olive oil, stacked with layers of ham, salami and cheese and freckled with oregano. You really have to open wide to take a good bite, but it’s so worth it.
I hope to get some of my sisters and friends to contribute too. As I learned growing up in a large family, the more the merrier.