South Philadelia... Gravy vs. Sauce

love it over at Facebook, and my cousin Joe Carlini sent me an invitation to join a group called Gravy Wars, South Philly Food Feuds and Attytudes.

Growing up, we always called the red sauce you put on pasta (macaroni for us South Philadelphians) gravy. It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized that for the majority of people in the area, gravy was brown and you put it on roast beef. Well, we call that brown gravy! If you are having a seafood sauce, my mom always called it seafood gravy. Just putting crabs in it... crab gravy. Very simple.

Of course, this was only one of the many things that I realized was different about me than my non Italian friends. When I go out to lunch, I love to get soup and a 1/2 of a sandwich. Now, when the menu says, your choice of bread. to me that implies I can have my choice of bread. Okay, I'll have chicken salad on a roll. Bad enough they are going to call it a kaiser roll, wherever that name came from, but now they tell me I can't have my sandwich on a roll. I say why not... the menu says my choice of bread. Oh, it has to be sliced bread. They can't cut the roll in half... who else will eat it? Seriously? There isn't one other Italian girl in this restaurant that wants a 1/2 of a sandwich?

Italians make meals into great social gatherings. I love to sit around the kitchen table with friends and family and eat, talk and laugh. Meals are meant to be celebrated and enjoyed. Not something to get over with. I have my doubts about a person who doesn't love food. How passionless. I love to watch people eat that love it! I love to cook for people who love to eat.

My husband makes me mad every time we have dinner. I go to great lengths to delicately spice my meals and the man puts hot pepper relish on everything. Why do I bother? He wouldn't know the difference! And he doesn't like seafood gravy? And he likes to watch TV while he eats. And he wants to eat his salad first. What is up with that? We always had salad at the end of the meal. How else would your stomach know it was time for dessert? His family always rushed through the meal so that they could all line up in front of the TV. One family meal that included his side of the family forced me to unplug the TV and pretend I didn't know what was wrong with it. Sadly, they figured it right out!

I loved growing up in South Philadelphia. I loved having close neighbors and sitting on the front step on a warm summer night, talking and laughing. I loved walking down a South Philly street on a warm summer Sunday and smelling everyone's gravy simmering on their stoves! I loved that I could walk every where I needed to go and I loved feeling like I belonged somewhere. I looked like everyone else, I talked like everyone else. I was Italian, and pretty much, so was everyone else!

So, the next time a pretty Italian woman invites you over for gravy, at least now you'll know what she's talking about!