This is for all the Italians out there, and those who are lucky
enough to be married to an Italian, and even to all the friends of
An elderly Italian man lay dying in his bed. While suffering the
agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his
favorite Italian anisette sprinkle cookies wafting up the stairs.
Gathering his remaining strength, he lifted himself from the bed.
Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands he crawled downstairs.
With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen where, if not for death's agony, he would have
thought himself already in heaven.
For there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table, were literally hundreds of his favorite anisette sprinkled cookies.
Was it heaven?
Or was it one final act of heroic love from his
devoted Italian wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this
world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table,
landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted,
the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.
His aged and withered hand trembled on its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife. "Get outta here!" she shouted,
"They're for the funeral!"
My sisters ex-inlaws where from Sicily, oh can I relate. She sure did know how to feed a "Skinny boy". I was alot younger, and skinnier then.
:rofl: I think I met her when I was a kid!
Originally Posted by Arkie
That's the best one I've herd in a long time.......thanks
When I saw Italian Cookies I thought you were talking about
That's the only thing I miss about my first wife, her mothers cooking. Italians all the way.
My first wife was Spanish, her mother would always chase me out of the Kitchen when she was cooking pastries. I got a bad habit when growing up of wanting to sample the product before it cooled.
Sounds like a good habit to me, of course I have the same one. So then that's a totally biased opinion.
Originally Posted by raevan
We also used to fight over the beaters and the bowl too.
I volentered to learn how to bake cookies and cakes so mom had me do the bakeing, that way I got the bowl and beaters plus I stopped raiding the cookies because I would bake a few extra for myself. But that didn't help in Spain because my Motherinlaw was raised the the man's place was NOT in the kitchen.
That's my best friend's Mom to a TEE.
I miss that woman so bad.
You just made me hungry. I need to drag my Pizzel iron out of the closet.:smile: