Whenever someone orders the Grandpa’s Favorite it brings a smile to my face. If it were truly his it would have raw garlic heaped upon it. He was the first health nut I encountered in life. Each morning began with rigorous calisthenics followed by a breakfast of wheat germ, honey, yogurt, raw garlic and espresso.
After breakfast work would commence in the tailor shop which was attached to the back of the house. He would sit and cut and sew and listen to Italian opera on his shortwave radio. Lunch was lovingly prepared by my grandmother and then a nap was taken at midday, during which absolute silence would be observed. Back to the tailor shop for awhile and then the garden would need tending. He devoured bitter greens as though his life depended on it. Plates of it were dressed with olive oil and vinegar he made himself from the red wine which was made the previous fall in the basement. Dinner was followed by a long walk around town frequently ending at a friend’s home nearby where a pinochle game was conducted totally in Italian. What a life, huh?