I grew up in Philadelphia during the 50`s and 60`s. That was a great time in my life. My parents were from Italy and maintained their very Italian ways, which to this day I thank them. Anyway, I met my future wife, also Italian, when I was 13. By the time we were 17, it was time to invite her to my home for dinner. Since my parents were poor farmers in Italy, they were never into exotic Italian food or preparation. So my grandmother decided to honor her visit by preparing "polenta with meat". However in our family, we had a ritual when eating polenta. First of all my grandmother would serve the polenta on a big wooden board, the type that was used to roll out the dough when making spaghetti. Then she would cover the polenta with the sauce (we called it gravy) and put the meatballs and sausage in the middle. Each member of the family would then have to eat their way through the polenta to get to the meat. It was great.

When my future wife arrived for dinner, the expression on her face when she saw what and how we were going to eat was priceless. She looked at me as if to say "you got to be kidding". But being the person she is, she sat, observed our ritual, and began to work her way to the meat. My grandmother loved it. It made her extremely happy.

To this day, this "ritual" continues in my family and I only hope that my son and daughter continues it with theirs.
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