Every Sunday my petite, skilled, 100% Italian, Great Grandma Nina would make Mostacciolis. Sunday’s were a time to get together with the family, catch up on the week, and enjoy a good meal. My mom made a conscious decision to bring this tradition into our own household.
(Mostaccioli- pasta in the form of a short tube with oblique ends. Mirrian Webster online.)
I remember having to turn off the TV, music, and put away homework for that one hour where we would be together. I laugh now reflecting on the different conversations we had around the cherry stained table. When we were in elementary school it was about disliking certain dinner foods, what was for desert, and what Disney movie we would watch.
When my brother and I entered into our teens we tried to bring our dinner to our rooms. We were looking for a way to disobey, which, was mostly due to our raging teenage hormones. College was hit or miss. I would go home for Sunday dinner when I could, but, college, work, and my boyfriend were top priority.
I find it ironic how at one point in my life I tried to avoid these dinners and now every Sunday I want nothing more than to be apart of them.
I know that the reality of this is a 3 hour plane ride. I know that it is no longer a 20 minute ride down 94, but I do know that I will bring this tradition to my own household.
Do you have any family traditions that help define how you were raised? Are they telling of your heritage? Do you want to keep the family tradition? Or better yet, do you want to establish your own?