Gravy Every Sunday Chapter 1

Back when I was growing up on Sandy Street, one thing I could always count on was gravy every Sunday. Early in the morning the house would begin to fill with the delicious aroma of meat balls, sausage and beef cubes browning in oil on the stove. Grandmom ( Carmella) or my Mom, Mary, would start the gravy, (we never called it sauce) with tomato paste and water. Next she would add fresh basil from the garden, the sweet smell of which would cling to your hands after picking it. It was a treat to snag a meatball from the skillet before the meats all went in the pot, but you would get in trouble with Grandmom if you tried to dip a piece of Italian bread in the gravy. Nothing tasted better than gravy bread though, if you could get away with it.
     Once the initial work was done, the pot had to slowly simmer for hours so all the flavors would blend together and the meats cook to just the right texture. So whether you were lucky enough to sleep in, getting ready for Church or having breakfast after Mass, the background of the morning was that wonderful fragrance. The gravy and meats were served with spaghetti on most Sundays, either homemade or from the macaroni factory.
     Back when I was young, we had a houseful living there.  Grandmom's four bedroom row house was home to herself, my Mom, brother Bob, sister Mary and me (Jackie), as well as Aunt Marie, Uncle Mid, cousins Nina, Gina, Dino and Tommy. Uncle Joey was in the Army and when he was stationed at Fort Dix, across the river in New Jersey, he would often come home on the weekend and sometimes bring along a friend. There was always room for one more. In addition to those of us living at the house, we were joined every Sunday by Uncle Tony, Aunt Peggy and their, then, eight children who lived three blocks away, though Aunt Peggy often took the opportunity to stay home and clean.  When it was time to sit down and eat, if someone was missing they would get a phone call telling them they had better get there now. I was about to say or else, but there was no or else. Get there now was the message as everyone in the family remembers it.
     Sometimes, especially on holidays like Christmas or Easter, all of Grandmom's family - her nine children and their spouses and children would gather for dinner and this required an extra special meal. Homemade ravioli in place of the usual spaghetti. My brother Bob would be sent to the local cheese maker with two containers to get fresh ricotta. Grandmom or my Mom would start the dough by throwing half a bag of flour on the table and add in the eggs and water, then mix it by hand to the right texture and consistency.
     While the dough was made right on the table, the filling was mixed in a bowl using simple ingredients of ricotta, eggs, grated cheese, salt, pepper and parsley. The cheeses and the dough had their own aroma, distinct from the scent of the gravy and every bit as sweet to remember.

Carmella with a few of her grandkids

     When the entire family of about forty or so gathered for holiday dinners in our row house, logistics called for eating in shifts. I know the littler children ate at the kitchen table. My memory is vague on the sequence, but I kind of remember men, older children, and young married couples taking turns and finally the women got to sit and eat. Somehow there was always enough food to go around and always room at the table whenever someone brought a guest. My sister had been dating Bill, for a couple of weeks when she brought him to Christmas Eve dinner. He survived that first gathering and stayed. They married a while later and for their wedding Grandmom made a tray of her homemade cookies which are still a part of most any family gathering, but that is a story for another time.
 

Georgia Getaway - Racing, Road Trip and Relatives

   Saturday morning, 2 AM. Time to wake up, though I  didn't get near enough sleep. I tried going to bed earlier, but wasn't able to fall asleep until 11. My friend Mike aka Electric Horseman would  be picking me up around three  to head to the airport for a 6 AM flight to Atlanta for American Flat Track racing event # 2 of the season- Atlanta Short Track. He goes to the races all season and has for years, but I was going to experience my second live race after being introduced to flat track last season and going to Williams Grove in PA last September. My plan was to go to the race and then take a road trip to visit  my nephew Bob in Cleveland,GA and then ride over to West Columbia to see my brother Mike and make it my first real vacation in four years. After going back to work in November having been retired for five years, I was ready for a break. Since we were both headed to Atlanta, we decided to fly down together and split a car rental for the day before he headed back that night and I traveled on.

   The flight went smoothly even though  I was seated next to a rather large gentleman.  Being thigh to thigh with a complete stranger for two hours made it difficult for me to fall asleep for the duration of the trip.  My first time at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport was amazing just for the size of it all. I think I have flown about ten times in my life this far, so I'm getting used to navigating airports, but was glad I did not have to find my way around alone that morning.

     Just as we picked up the rental car I got a cramp in my foot, so Mike was kind enough to drive and once we got out on the highway I was very grateful I was not at the wheel. Six lanes of traffic for the first 18 miles or so was a little daunting, especially on 3 hours of sleep.

     We stopped for breakfast and coffee at Waffle House. Something I had been looking forward to for some time, having read about it as part of the race day routine in some of Mike's stories. (Check out ehorseman.blogspot.com - he's a great writer BTW)
 We finally arrived at Dixie Speedway around 11 AM - hours before any racing, but with plenty of time for me  to walk around the pit area getting into raceway vibe while the Electric Horseman started doing his media work.

First glimpse at Dixie Speedway 

     The afternoon started out chilly but warmed up pretty soon for the series of practices and  qualifying  races. In between races and during  track prep, I walked around enjoying people watching, speedway food, t-shirts shopping, and listening to a young guy  playing a guitar and singing.

     There were a few  riders that were injured during the afternoon races and again I see that the Rookie Class of '79 and the AFT family are supporting these young men and their families financially as well as in prayer. Injuries are unfortunately a part of this sport as in most sports. See Rookies of '79 on Facebook for a glimpse of the work these guys do for injured riders.

     Before the evening progressed to the semi and main races, there was the Open Paddock where the fans get to meet the riders and get autographs. While the only autograph I got was on the back of my new Jeffrey Carver Jr /the Wizard T-shirt, I did shake hands with and talk with a few of the other riders I have become familiar with through Michael's stories and following the races on Fanschoice.tv.  Good luck this season to all.

      The evening races were exciting and began with an invitational race that included a couple of the members of the class of '79. By the time the main Singles and Twins races ran, the weather had gotten cold and where I stood between turns three and four, I was having trouble following the action, but the energy of the crowd kept me trying to see what I could. Last year's Singles Champ -PA rider Dan Bromley got a podium and the Main Twins race was won by another PA rider -Brandon Robinson. I admit I'm partial to the local talent, but enjoy the family spirit of American Flat Track.

     Grateful again that Mike drove the car back to the airport/hotel area where we couldn't find an open diner so we shared another Waffle House meal. I think I'm good on the race-day Waffle House thing for a while. Mike had a very busy and productive day and it was interesting to almost be able to see the wheels turn in his mind as we ate and talked.  He had a very early flight home so we said goodnight and he went to the airport and I conked out shortly after 1 AM . Wow! Can't remember the last time I was awake the better part of 24 hours!  I have to say, for being within three miles of the airport, Country Inn and Suites by Radisson was surprisingly quiet and I was able to rest up for my trip out to see the family the next day.

     Sunday morning hotel breakfast was pretty good. I ate my fill for the ride out to see my nephew Bob and his family. My brother Mike rode his cycle up from South Carolina to Bob's area the night before  which saved me a few days travel and a few nights of hotel stays. I opted to stay off the Interstates since I was not in a particular hurry and I wanted see a little bit of the city of Atlanta and the northern Georgia countryside. It was a ninety mile drive that took me about two and a half hours.

     It was a pleasure to take my time driving and not have to be concerned with getting to locations in a timely manner to deliver auto parts, though I am grateful for the job to have the extra cash. There's just something I enjoy about the feel of the road passing under my wheels and letting my mind wander as I ramble down the highway.  I just don't get that feeling on a crowded Interstate or short trips on local streets.

The closer I got to Bob's, the more it reminded me of going to the area up north to visit them in the mountains a few years ago before they decided to head South. They had lived way out in the country and for some reason, I had never gotten up there until shortly before they moved even farther away.

They have been in Georgia over three years and my brother Mike has been in South Carolina even longer. I had thought about heading South to visit before, but the retirement income has been a bit tight. 

It was just about noon when I got there. Bob and Mike were sitting outside talking when I arrived and Bob's wife Tracy came out to greet me. I had brought a little Pennsylvania with me - a bag of Wawa coffee, Corpolese pepperoni and cheese stromboli and a box of Gertrude Hawk chocolates. We brought those inside and talked a bit with my great niece Shannon before we all headed back outside to sit on the porch and catch up.

     We talked for a couple of hours about family and books and racing and motorcycles, working vs. retirement , Southern living vs Northern way of life.  I found out that Georgia does not have state safety inspection so there are cars held together with duct tape and plastic, but they are a lot more courteous toward motorcycles. Bob told how the first time he rode his bike into an intersection with stop signs and the three cars there all waited for him to go, he got crazy waiting for them to move until they all waved him on. On the other hand the speeding laws can be very heavy handed and you can go to jail and permanently lose your license for something called super-speeding. They filled me in on all manner of local wild-life of the animal and insect variety as well. I found out that the Atlanta airport area was not the only place where it was hard to find a diner. Apparently diners are not a common place to eat down there. 

     It was a great afternoon sitting with family I haven't seen much of for years, but still feel connected to.  Bob had made a pot of sausage and peppers as well as braciole which was delicious, Not only was it good to have a home cooked meal after the speedway food and Waffle House, but to share a family tradition on a Sunday afternoon made the trip complete. 

I started back to Atlanta not long after dinner and whether it was the after effects of the pleasant afternoon and good meal or erratic sleep schedule, the fresh air or the road, I was finding myself getting sleepy and stopped at Panera's for coffee and grabbed a sandwich for later back at the hotel.

My plan was to relax at the hotel indoor pool or hot tub when I got back, but a few families with children already had the same idea, so I printed out my boarding pass and turned in early.

Monday morning I again had the hotel breakfast buffet- I ate just enough to get me to the airport, turn in the car and get to the right gate in plenty of time. I checked the departure gate on my phone before I left so I would have an idea where to go in this busiest airport in the world, (according to their website).

Traffic at 9 AM wasn't bad for the three mile trip and it didn't take long at the Hertz center to complete the return. I found my way to Terminal A and got to the assigned gate way early and the next scheduled departure from there was to San Francisco which was delayed due to bad weather out there. I checked the departure board and I was now leaving from terminal B. No problem, still plenty of time and actually the connecting walkway was decorated in greens and blues and played bird song music as I walked through. I felt almost like I was out for my morning walk instead of at the airport.

I again felt like I was getting my morning walk when the third time I checked, my plane was now scheduled to leave from the opposite end of the terminal. 

Eventually we boarded and I had to check my carry-on because there was no more room in the overhead bins. That was fine with me after dragging the darn thing all around the airport all morning, at least I wouldn't have to tote it around PHL.  The flight was uneventful, but I was curious that the Delta people suggested keeping your seat belt on in case of "rough air". I think the last time I flew they still called it turbulence. Funny the things your mind ponders after vacation. I also mused as we prepared to land how easily a plane can go from thousands of feet in the air at hundreds of miles an hour to drop down, touch ground and stop in a matter of minutes. Every hour of every day. Just saying, I found that very cool.

My driver, Dave from Exec Limo was waiting for me at the escalator. We got my bag and I climbed in the back seat. Nice to be riding up 476 instead of driving it in that little yellow and green car. I was home before rush hour and happy to have had such a pleasant trip and happy to be home.

Maybe tomorrow I'll start planning the next getaway, but for now it's time to relax.