This Is Not Your Mother's Cookbook

Growing up in an Italian household, I frequently heard the word Giambott. It is an Italian vegetable stew made with potatoes and zucchini. The actual pronunciation is Ciamotta. The Irish also make claims on this dish (They use cabbage of course) but no one takes the Irish seriously when it comes to food. It sometimes referred to as a summer stew, also known as Poverty Stew. We weren’t poor but we ate it year round. It became much more than just a stew. It grew into a fine meal when family time at meals were special and meant something. This mixture was often referred to as a hodgepodge or a mishmash. The correct word today is medley. This sounds more pleasant and almost musical. It was a really just a collection of whatever was in the refrigerator at the end of the week. Everyone knew it was a sin to throw food away because there were children starving in some far off land. We never saw them but we knew they were there. The threat was significant enough to clean our plates. Our leftovers became our delicious banquet.
This book is like that collection of random leftovers (Some may have gone bad). There are some short stories based upon life’s observations or experiences, short pieces of fiction and marriage advise. Please do not follow any advise from me. I haven’t figured out anything yet. The book also contains at least one actual song. You can try singing the other parts but it won’t make any sense. I have intermingled my favorite recipes throughout the stories to be savored and enjoyed, preferably with a glass of wine or a case of beer, whatever it takes to make it more palatable or help you choke it down. Please do not eat while reading this book because it may lead to actual choking. My Heimlich skills do not work over the phone and 911 operators can’t understand muffled grunts. You have been warned.