Every time we finished dinner at a nouveau Italian restaurant back in the 1980s, my dad, God rest him, would wave his hand dismissively and say with an air of contempt, “It was good, but these yuppies think they invented peasant food. My mother made those dishes every night for dinner, and they were better than any meal you could get at a restaurant.”
He was referring to Depression-era meals prepared with inexpensive ingredients that stretched far and fed large families, like pasta fagioli, spaghetti aglio e olio, and polenta with sausage “gravy.” “Boy, if they weren’t delicious!” my dad would say. Two generations later, I’m still making these dishes, and they’re still fan faves around my kitchen table.
