Back in October, I wrote about the sale of the house across the street from my mother, and the accompanying tag sale, and the later dumpster diving. Well, among the items that came back from the dumpster were two index card boxes - her recipe files. Clearly, she didn't need to take them with her to a nursing home where she'll never see a stove again, but it's sad that neither of her kids was interested.
Anyway, I flipped through the cards and stopped short to scratch my head when I saw the name of one recipe. What exotic thing could La Sagna be? Well, it turns out that it's just lasagne. Or lasagna. Or La Sagna.
But so Mrs. Wright's recipe lives on in the hands of folks who might like it, here it is:
I have no idea who Mrs. Joanne Decher is, or was.
Incidentally, according to the all knowing Wikipedia, "lasagne" is derived from the Greek word for chamber pot. Yum!
12 comments:
I have a few of my grandmother's handwritten recipe cards. In a sense, I'm glad I do, but in another sense, they are almost unbearably poignant.
I agree, Niobe. One of my most cherished possessions is a handwritten recipe for banana bread from my grandma. She wrote it for me as she showed me, step by step, how to make it.
Chamber pot? I am not sure I will be able to look at lasagna the same way now.
ACK! Chamber pot? ACK!
They tossed her recipes? Dude. What is wrong with those people? In my husband's family people fought over it.
La Sagna.
You have to wonder how they pronounced the G.
I just think this is cool. :)
Julie
Using My Words
My mother and Aunt moved into an Assisted living apartment and I have their recipes. It's really a hoot going through them all. Most of them are really quite old and I can tell the favorites by how stained they are. (My mother's favorites are mostly sweets - she loved to bake)
La Sagna is t he be st with a n ice sal ad.
"Let simmer!" You've got to wonder about that exclamation point.
I LOVE this. La Love.
Me too, love it.
I am going to work hard on forgetting that chamber pot reference. You know, the next time I eat a hearty serving of la sagna.
My grandmother's recipes that I have are all in my handwriting-- dictated over the phone.
The saddest part of this story, for me, is that her children didn't want the recipes. I see it as a kind of deep rejection. Especially after that post on family cookbooks My Reality wrote so recently.
OK, I started this post thinking, there can't be anything sadder in life than those recipes getting thrown away... and then came the chamber pot thing. It's all about perspective, isn't it?
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