Shortly after my Dad met my Mom 30+ years ago, he brought her over to his parents for dinner. My grandparents (Noni and Nona) were a very traditional Italian family. Both of their parents came over from Sicily when they were babies. Every meal was an occasion, although my Mom did not know that. Having been a tall, scrawny Irish woman, a big meal to my Mom was a full sandwich, instead of just half. In any case, my Dad brought her home to my Nona for her first Italian dinner.
My Nona (and great-Nona) prepared and served dinner as they always did: antipasti first, pasta and gravy served second, and then the main course: breaded meat, vegetables, fritata, bread, salad, and potatoes. My Dad and family sat down to eat the antipasti. Then came the pasta. My Mom assumed that the pasta was the main course and loaded up. When she finished and her plate was cleared, out came the main course. She almost died. She couldn`t be rude and not eat anymore, but she was about to burst. My Dad politely helped her clear her plate without my grandparents noticing. From then on she knew what to expect when eating at my grandparents. Any day she knows she is going over for dinner, she does not eat the whole day to save room for all of the food.
To this day, this story is told at family dinners at Nona`s. When I brought my husband over for dinner at Nona`s for the first time, I did not warn him of what was coming. He had the same reaction as my Mom, but he had no trouble cleaning his plate during the main course!
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