Mamma Mia!

Just a warning to all three of you readers out there: if you ever tell me that your mother, your aunt, someone in your family, a friend, anyone, basically, is a good cook, trust me- I will tell you to put your money where your mouth is and have me over for a meal. This is what I did to Peter this weekend. For months he has been boasting his mother's Calabrian cooking expertise and telling me I should experience it for myself. So on Saturday morning, I met Peter bright and early to catch the Metro North to South Norwalk for an Italian extravaganza. Mrs. Greco needed some time in the kitchen before we attacked, so I asked to pore over old pictures of Peter as a young man. There was no resemblance whatsoever between the studly man he is now and the awkward chap he was during his formative years. We ran some errands, chatted, and sat down to a lovely lunch comprised of arancini, eggplant parmagiana, roast chicken and mashed potatoes with cheese and bread crust. Carb-hevay, but did I care?! The arancini were out of this world. Oily, yes, but fried heaven. They were rolled in cheese and ground meat and melted in your mouth. Peter stole one off the tray before lunch was ready and split it in half for me and piping hot, they were perfect. I could have died right then and there. The eggplant parm was awesome- apparently it's her specialty and I should consider myself very lucky for having sampled it. The chicken was one of the best roast chickens I have ever had the pleasure to have. It was moist and succulent and just superb. And though I am not really a potato fan, I scarfed those down without a moment's hesitation. We drank the Dolcetto d'Alba that I had brought for them along with it and then I ran for the train, head slightly reeling and with a goody bag in hand. Thank you, Mamma Mia!