My Nana's famous sauce

Empty Cento cans lined my countertop while the smell of onion and fresh basil floated through the air. My mom was patiently explaining her mom's recipe to me while our girl's helped measure ingredients. I loved that we had three generations working together to try  replicating my Nana's famous sauce. I could almost taste the perfection as we watched the little bubbles of red popping in the huge silver pot. 

I love that my mom was teaching me the recipe, but I wish that I would've taken the time to have my own Nana show me her secrets. I'm embarrassed to say I was too busy thinking that food should be fuel and that this particular combo of carbs and fat didn't quite fit with my "health" standards. 

I now know, that it's ridiculous to think of food as fuel alone. 
Food is SO. MUCH. MORE. 
Food is love. 
Food is connection to our family and our memories. 
Food is life. 
Food is medicine. 
Food is culture. 

Today's "health food" completely leaves out culture. To be "healthy" today your plate might have steamed chicken, a salad without dressing and some quinoa. Where's the culture on that plate? What about fried chicken and collard greens, what about fried rice, what about bangers and mash (Hi, Emily!), what about that casserole from your childhood (sorry, mom, maybe NOT your hamburger casserole)? 

This so-called "healthy" plate is rooted in everyone looking the same with a preferred smaller size. No THANK YOU. Pass me the plate from my childhood with pasta cooked to perfection and that rich red sauce. 

This pasta is so perfect that my cousin cried when my mom recently brought her two pans for her birthday. It's because we all connect this sauce to my beloved Nana. We feel a connection not only to her, but to those weekly Sunday dinners my mom's extended family spent together during our youth. We spent hours and hours talking, laughing, crying, cooking (and cleaning) and just being together. 

Through this ritual of cooking and sharing, I grew up feeling strongly connected to my family and to my roots. 

Thankfully, I still have that strong connection to family. Whenever my mom comes to visit, she brings a batch of sauce (even in a car over 1,000 miles away). Our kids literally countdown the days when they get to have Nana's pasta dinner.

If we're lucky, we'll be able to freeze the left overs. On busy days when I forget to plan dinner, I pull out a bag of sauce and feel instant love and care from my mom and Nana. I always feel a twinge of sadness when the last bag is gone. 

Oh, and! The biggest secret to making good sauce is to buy the best canned tomatoes. Cento topped her list. I can still see those yellow cans lining her pantry with the leftovers in the garage. 

What's your favorite food from your childhood? Can you allow yourself to make and enjoy this food for yourself this week? Let the smell and sight take you back to your roots, your family and the love behind the chef.

I can't wait for my kids to tell their kids about their Nana's famous sauce. Hopefully I'll be around to show them how to add just the right amount of salt and basil. Already baked in will be the love and memories from four generations. 

xoxo, 

P.S. Hit reply if you want to do a free consult call to talk about food and body. It's time to be able to enjoy and not obsess about your food. 

PPS. Dad, don't tell everyone that you still get to enjoy the sauce most Sunday nights. The relatives might start showing up....and never leave.