Ode to the Italian Grocery!

So, my Mom and I go to this place in Fairfield. A real (yes, authentic, not a red checked tablecloth to be seen!) Italian grocery store. The fresh mozzarella, ah marrone! Huge, shiny, hand-pulled globes of the stuff, staring at you from a milky brine. Sheets of handmade pasta, gorgeous green broccoli rabe studded with red pepper flakes and glistening with olive oil and discs of fennel laced sausages. Hand cut prosciutto, slices so thin you can see through it. These slices wrapped individually in wax paper with a transparent sheet of plastic IN BETWEEN each slice (yeah yeah yeah, I can hear all my Italian girls saying right now!). The fresh ricotta is piled high in white enamel tubs, oozing with smooth, creamy goodness. The cheesecake it would make would not resemble those congealed slabs made famous in the late 80's that tasted like St. Joseph's baby aspirin. It would taste light and airy. A hint of sweetness and vanilla (yes, I can feel a recipe in the air!). Cans of whole, peeled San Marzano tomatoes from Italy. It makes me want to speak Italian, and use my hands liberally while I do it.

And Mom brought me a bounty from that grocery today. I made out like a bandit! So my kids will eat like kings tonight - hand-rolled cannelloni, stuffed with clove-infused fresh ricotta, topped with a simple San Marzano tomato sauce, flecked with basil and sliced garlic, and bubbling, melted mozzarella.

Working late husband will get some too. And he'll love it, since he does love anything the is hot, piping and smothered with cheese.

But I will dream about the mussels... and Paris....oooo, and maybe some Italian cheesecake....