Being 100% Italian, I grew up with the kind of food many people typically associate with us: authentic, fresh and simply delicious. My grandmother was one of the many women who helped bring our great reputation for food to life. She made such wonderful meals that I've since found myself on an often times frustrating and disappointing quest for those same flavors and qualities I'd come to expect. When my grandmother started getting on in years, I decided that I had to get her to teach me some of her recipes. To let such treasures slip into oblivion would be a culinary crime, as far as I was concerned. So, having re-located to sunny Los Angeles from the North End of Boston years ago, I sent for my "Mommanonna" as we called her. Her pizza was already very famous in the North End—since finding a good slice anywhere west of the Mississippi is such an arduous feat I knew that her pizza would become a most valued treasure here.So, to commemorate the event I invited my friends and family to taste her masterpiece. It was served—and with great enthusiasm we took our first bite. But, alas, something was wrong. It didn't taste the same. "It's the crust!," we unanimously declared as we watched it sag shamefully before us. Mommanonna thought about it for a while and then exclaimed, "It's the water!" She insisted that we bring water from her own home in Boston! Despite thinking she was a bit senile, we decided to appease her and brought the water. Again, we all sat around while she cooked away using virgin olive oil, the freshest tomatoes, the best cheese, her secret dashes of this and that and yes, her special water. And the result...Her masterpiece recreated!Although presently my grandmother may be feasting on a perfect pizza in a more perfect place, for many years now my family and loyal customers have been gratefully enjoying the little piece of Heaven she handed down to us before setting out on her journey home.
Gabrilina Ragina Lanci
1900 - 1986
