When I was a child, the adult women in our extended family were all “famous for” some dish they
were each adept at making. My mother was “famous for her spaghetti sauce”. My aunt Helen her baked
goods. Another aunt for her chicken noodle soup. Of course this fame didn’t extend beyond the
immediate family. And maybe to a couple of neighbors. It wasn’t as if, when my mother made spaghetti
sauce, someone said “Joe, call the television station. Your mother is making spaghetti sauce today.”
But I can imagine that phone call.
Joe: Is this the evening news?
News desk: Yes, may I help you?
Joe: My mom is making spaghetti sauce today!
News desk: The spaghetti sauce she’s famous for?
Joe: Yes. She’s making it today!
News desk: Holy tomato! I’ll rush this right over to Dan Rather. (Hand covering the phone): Joe’s
mother is making her spaghetti sauce. Yep, the one she’s famous for. We’ll have to dump the story
about the satellite launch. (Back to me): Thanks for letting us know, kid!
Joe: You’re welcome. (Hangs up.) Dad, I called the TV.
Dad: Good work, son. Your brother is on his way to the newspaper on his bike. I’ll run over to the
Hendersons and let
them know. You’d better tell the McAfees.
Joe: I’m on it dad...
Dad: (hugging mom as he passes through the kitchen) You’re famous for your spaghetti sauce, honey!
Mom beams as she stirs the sauce.
- ▼ June (10)
- ► 2012 (124)
- ► 2011 (97)
- ► 2010 (82)
- ► 2009 (74)
- ► 2008 (83)
- ► 2007 (77)