My most memorable meal
When I was younger, I used to love eating my grandma’s homemade pizza. It wasn’t round, it was square. Before I developed food allergies to wheat, I remember loving her pizza, the way the house smelled when we would walk in the door, seeing her form the pizza, roll it out and everything. Even though she had a very small kitchen, it didn’t matter, she made pizza like it was her job. I would always help to put the pepperonis on. And she wouldn’t make just one; she made at least 4 because our family and extended family is so big when she would have all of us over for dinner. There was always so much great food to go around. Now she’s 84, and can’t make it anymore. I really miss that pizza.
No comments:
Post a Comment